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idleoblivion · 17 days

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"A Dangerous Muse" Jade Leech x GN Reader

Synopsis: You found him so pretty, it was hard not to get inspired. Still, it felt a little creepy to sketch him without permission. But it’s fine as long as he doesn’t find out, right?

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: This was supposed to be like maybe 500 words idk what happened

Warnings: Lots of teasing (I mean, it's Jade), brief Floyd cameo

Your secret wasn’t a particularly bad one, it was mostly just embarrassing. When he sat with his brother and Azul at lunch, when you could catch him during his shift at the lounge, and if you just happened to spot him at random around campus, you would take almost any chance to draw Jade in your sketchbook. They were usually just sketches of him looking poised and gentlemanly as he did whatever task he had taken up at the time. Occasionally though, you caught him being slightly more expressive, smiling in a way that showed his pointed teeth and made his eyes wrinkle. You were more than a little embarrassed of how well you had learned the details of his face, and by the dozen or more pages you’d already filled up with drawings of him. Something about him just felt naturally alluring and intriguing to you, he made the perfect muse.

Right now, you’re sitting at a table in the lounge trying to look like you're studying and not waiting for the appearance of a certain eel. You picked a seat off to the side by yourself like usual to not draw any attention. You were pretty sure you had overheard him in the halls earlier say he was working this afternoon, so it was odd to you that he hadn’t shown up yet. You pull your sketchbook out while you wait and look through some of your previous works. You sigh looking at one of them where you were especially proud of how you captured the mischievous look that he had been wearing, with a predatory glint in his mismatched eyes that-

…Was incredibly similar to the way he was looking at you right now.

You hadn’t seen him enter from the front door or kitchen, he seemingly materialized out of thin air. But he was there now, walking past the other patrons at their tables and headed towards your own. You hurriedly shut your sketchbook and try your best to act casual.

“Oya, what a surprise seeing you here, prefect. Are you here to try our new menu?” His eyes still have a dangerous look to them, and he not so subtly steals a few glances at your sketchbook.

“No actually, I just got done studying. I was getting ready to leave.” You try to grab your sketchbook and leave before he has time to question you further, but his hand reaches out and sits on top of it first.

“Oh, you’re already done? Are you sure? I could take a look at what you’ve been working on and assist you if you need.” He has a knowing smirk on his face that immediately increases your anxiety. His hand is still resting on top of the sketchbook.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary. I can’t afford to be making deals right now and-”

“Why, who said anything about a deal? Can’t I want to help you simply out of the goodness of my heart?” He feigns an innocent expression that you don’t trust in the slightest.

Before you can retort, he grabs the sketchbook off the table and moves to open it. You nearly lunge out of your seat to try and grab it from him but he seems to anticipate it and holds it behind his back, out of your reach. He smiles again at your panicky face.

“Oya, what’s this? Is there something private in this book of yours? I thought you were supposed to be just studying?”

“I-I was, I just don’t want you doing anything to my notes, I worked hard on them.” His eyes narrow but his smile widens. “Yes, I’m sure you did. I promise I won’t compromise your work, I only intend to look.”

He pulls the sketchbook in front of him again, and you have to resist the urge to attempt to snatch it immediately. He steps forward until he’s too close, in your personal space. You try to back up only to find he has you caught between him and the table. He really leans in, his face only a few inches from you and you feel your cheeks heating up at the unexpected proximity.

“You’re sure all I’m going to find in here is notes, hm?”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find another excuse to get you out of this. Him being so close to you certainly isn’t helping you get your thoughts together. He takes advantage of your shocked state and finally opens it to the page you’d been on.

“W-wait, Jade you can’t-”

“My, what’s all this~?”

He holds the book out of your reach again while he flips through the pages. You don’t even move to stop him this time, accepting your humiliating fate. You look away from him in your shame, which makes you miss the way his eyes light up as he skims over your work.

“...You’re certainly a skilled artist, I’ll give you that.” You force yourself to look back at him and gauge how upset at you he is, but his demeanor offers you no clues to what his mood really is. “I’m no critic, but I can appreciate how detailed your drawings are. You must have studied me very intently, no?”

“I…um, I guess? I just draw you whenever I see you around. I’m sorry, I know that’s-” “Why me?” You’re caught off guard by that question, and he repeats, “Why me? There are a plethora of other students you could draw, but as far as I saw, I appear to be your only subject. Why is that?”

Well, there’s no point in lying to him, and you were already so mortified, what’s a little more humiliation?

“You’re really pretty.”

For the very first time, you see Jade look almost dumbstruck. Only for a brief moment though, as his face almost immediately changes to something much more intense. You almost think he’s upset until you realize he’s looking at you with the same face he made at his terrariums, or when he cultivated a new species of mushroom. He was intrigued, you had his full attention and interest and the weight of it was becoming overwhelming the longer he stared at you.

“You…” he trails off for a second then leans in close to you again. “It’s impressive how often you manage to surprise me.”

“I’m sorry, I still should’ve asked. I can stop, really, I will. I’m so sorry.” You spoke fast and quietly, still wishing for nothing more than a way out of this situation.

“Now, there’s no need for that. Artists need to practice regularly to improve their skills, yes? I would hate to take that away from you.” “Huh? So…you want me to keep sketching you?” “Unfortunately, Azul would have a fit if he found out I was offering you a service and not charging anything.” Of course, nothing comes for free in Octavinelle.

“Well, what would you charge then? Madol? Would I have to wait tables here?” He laughs lightly under his breath.“No, nothing like that. I believe our little deal should be well thought out and discussed, not impulsively decided right here and now. Why don’t you meet me back here this weekend, and we’ll work something out? Just you and I of course, I’m sure we don’t need Azul to mediate. Maybe I could even have you sample some dishes from our new menu during our discussion. There would be no charge for that of course, since you’d be doing me a favor by agreeing.”

As you look at his face to decipher his intentions, you're left even more confused. Why is he looking at you almost…fondly? And he wants to meet with you completely alone? And he’d offer you food for free? What did he mean by you meeting with him being a favor to him? Was this…a date? What exactly was he implying? He just continued watching you, with his polite and courteous persona that you can never truly read put back on. Still a bit flustered, you try and rationalize why you should or shouldn’t go, before he interrupts your thoughts one last time.

“Oh, and you’re very pretty as well.”

Your face is burning after that. You swallow the lump in your throat before you meekly respond.

“Oh, t-thanks. Um, yeah, this weekend sounds great.” He smiles with his teeth on display again. “I look forward to it, prefect.” He grabs your hand and places a chaste kiss to the back of it before offering you your sketchbook back. You take it without a word, brain completely short circuiting.

Then just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. He left you by yourself with your own racing thoughts and heart and headed towards Azul’s office. You quickly gather yourself and get ready to leave. On your way out the door, you suddenly spot Floyd watching you with an amused smirk. He makes some kissy faces and noises at you teasingly and points toward the office where Jade is. Your face gets hot all over again and you rush out of the lounge, hearing Floyd cackle at you as you hurry away.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade leech twst #twst fluff

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writeforfandoms · 9 months

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Born for Greatness bonus 4

Find the series masterlist

FINALLY putting out the last bonus chapter for this series! This can be canon or can be discarded as you like, as it doesn't effect the main storyline at all.

Warnings: Pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy, probably rose-colored tbh, established relationship, established pack, shifter behavior, swearing, Logan has to learn a whole new interrogation method.

Word count: 1.8k

Soap and Gaz both murmured sleepily when you tried to nudge them off, nestling closer in retaliation. You looked to John for help, but he just shrugged.

“Fucking burrs, I warned you,” he murmured, leaning over where you were trapped on the LoveSac to kiss your forehead. He nosed gently at your temple, breathing in the scent of you. “They’ll need to get up soon anyway.”

You sighed but gave in, a little reluctantly. “Five minutes, then I’m kicking them off.”

“Good luck.” John smirked at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before he left to go do his own preparations. Which is really what you should be pushing these two to do, but they clearly didn’t want to.

John hadn’t been sure how long they’d be gone this time. More than a week, he’d said with an apologetic little grimace, but he didn’t know more than that.

Which was fine. You’d fly out to Logan, take care of some stuff there, maybe pick up a few etiquette classes or do some community work. It wasn’t like you were some wilting wife staring mournfully out to sea waiting on her husband.

You snorted softly at the mental image. Yeah, no thanks. Not for you.

You left shortly after they did, humming to yourself as you went through security and then waited for the plane. The trip was long, but worth it.

And this time, you were giving Logan a taste of his own medicine and showing up unannounced. So you got a cab out to his property.

Which was, of course, cold. Because the weirdo liked Canada.

You fished out your house key and opened the door. “Logan?”

There was a thump and a swear from further in the house. You grinned and headed that way.

“You know, when I said your stuff wouldn’t be any trouble, I might have misjudged.” Logan glowered at you from where he stood in the middle of a storage room, which was currently stuffed with your stuff from your apartment.

“I did tell you I didn’t need the furniture,” you pointed out, leaning in the doorframe.

“The bookcases are nice, don’t wanna get rid of those.” Logan narrowed his eyes at you, head tipping as he approached. You paused, watching him, because this was not normal. He sniffed you, leaning in closer, until he made a face and took a step back. “Really, kid?”

“What?” You resisted the urge to sniff your own arm, because you knew it wouldn’t work.

He blinked. Twice. “Oh fuck.” He rubbed one hand down his face, gaze flitting around the room, before he deflated a little and sighed. “Okay. Kitchen. Go.”

Confused, you went, because this? You needed to know what this was about.

Logan made coffee (he didn’t do tea) and growled at you every time you so much as tried to get up from your chair. So you just sat, utterly perplexed, and watched.

Finally, he set a coffee in front of you, took a deep breath, and blurted out, “You’re pregnant, kid.”

You blinked, suddenly quite aware of why he’d had you sit down. You grabbed the table to make sure you weren’t swaying. “I’m… what?”

“I can tell.” He tapped his nose meaningfully. “I’ll drive into town and get some things for you.”

“I’ll go, might as well,” you said, more out of habit than actual desire.

And three tests later (you still had another pack to take in a few days), you were once again sitting at the kitchen table, more or less in shock.

“I take it this wasn’t planned.” Logan nudged your foot with his, frowning a little.

“Nope. Hadn’t even talked about it.” You breathed in slowly, trying not to freak out.

“It’ll be fine.” Logan reached over to take one of your hands. “And if it’s not you’ll come here.”

You huffed. “You have a way of making things seem much more simple than they actually are,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t help but smile.

“All depends how you look at it.” Logan shrugged. “You’ll be fine, one way or the other. You’ve got time and space here to think about what you wanna do. If you wanna keep the cub or not.”

You put your head down on the table and whimpered.

True to his word, though, Logan gave you all the time and space you wanted, letting you figure shit out. He offered opinions (sometimes wanted, sometimes not). And when you got too caught up in your own head, he bullied you onto the couch, turned on a movie, and shifted and laid across your lap.

It was oddly effective.

You had an entire month to sort yourself out.

And then John texted, saying they were on their way back to base.

Logan didn’t quite sit on you but he threatened to, glowering at you until you cooperated and then booking tickets for the two of you back to England.

(“You can’t travel alone.”

“I’m pregnant, not dying!”

“Don’t care, you’re not traveling alone.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”)

Logan stayed with you the entire time, calm as always. His calm seemed to directly increase in relation to your anxiety. Which was… something to think about later.

For now you were just grateful he wasn’t biting your head off.

John had volunteered to pick you up, so of course he was waiting for you, car idling, leaning back against the hood as he patiently scanned the crowds for you.

You didn’t actually track the steps you took to get to John. You were in front of Logan one minute, and in John’s arms the next. He rumbled a soft laugh as he squeezed you gently.

“Missed me, hm?” he teased, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m pregnant.” You didn’t think. Just blurted the words out.

“...come again?”

You pulled back, looking up at him. “I’m pregnant.”

John was very, very still for the longest half-dozen heartbeats of your life. He blinked. His mouth opened. Then closed. You swallowed hard, sudden nerves clenching around your heart.

And then he was hugging you even tighter, face hidden against the top of your head, murmuring too quietly for you to understand.

When he pulled back, his eyes were damp, and he was grinning wider than you’d ever seen. “That must be why…” He trailed off, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing deep again.

“Alright, you two,” Logan said loudly, blatantly interrupting you. “Figure it out later.”

You huffed and shot him a nasty look before giving John a quick kiss. “We should head back,” you agreed, a little reluctantly.

Of course then John took your luggage and fussed over your seatbelt and wouldn’t stop glancing at you the entire drive back. Logan, the absolute bastard, was laughing to himself in the back seat.

“You go say hi to the boys,” you told Logan sternly once John had parked. “You and I need to actually discuss this, I guess.” You looked at John.

“Alright.” He didn’t even sound freaked out, much more under control again.

But he didn’t take you back to his office. He took you to his room.

There was very little talking involved in the next couple hours.

You did insist on a shower before going to see the rest of the pack.

You did not tell the rest of the pack about the baby just yet. You wanted to do something a little more nice for them than just blurting it out. (You’d feel bad about telling John that way but he was too smug already.)

So you enlisted Logan’s help, getting him to go take your entire pack on a run. You took the time to decorate the pack room with some balloons you’d run off base for, a cake, and a little banner you hung off the table. You had enough time to question all your life choices before they came back.

Logan looked in first, grinned, and moved to a prime spot to get pictures. John was next, huffing softly but his gaze soft as he looked at you.

The other three started to come in, and stopped. Well, to be more accurate, Gaz stopped short, Ghost stopped just shy of hitting him, and Soap walked right into Ghost’s back and swore before peeking between the two.

Silence. Complete silence. It lasted just long enough for you to wonder if you’d made a mistake, if they weren’t okay with this, if this was a bad thing after all–

Gaz whooped and grabbed you, picking you up off your feet in a spinning hug. You squeaked, more surprised than anything.

He didn’t even set you down. Just handed you straight to Soap, who also spun you around while holding you tight. Then he deposited you in front of Ghost.

Ghost blinked down at you before slowly, carefully initiating a hug. You melted. He never initiated.

“So, I take it you guys are fine with this?” you asked, only a little choked up, still leaning into Ghost.

“To put it mildly,” Gaz agreed, grin clear in his voice. He plastered himself to your back, joining in the hug shamelessly and ignoring Ghost's little annoyed growl. And then Soap jumped in too and you were laughing as the pile of you tipped precariously.

"Alright, you muppets," John grumbled, fond amusement clear in his voice. "That's enough." It didn't take long before he was gently tugging you away from the boys.

It wasn’t all sunshine and daisies, and you were no saint. But the pack made it work.

Until the day you were finally cradling a little girl against you. So far Logan was keeping the rest of the pack at bay, so you and John had half a chance to meet your baby in peace. You’d never thought you’d see John cry, but he’d surprised you.

Now, though, you three had a little peace. Your little girl slept against your chest, John hovering over the both of you.

“She’s perfect, love,” John murmured, tipping his head to rest his cheek against your temple.

“She is.” You smiled, exhausted, leaning further back into the bed. “Think she’ll be a bear like you?”

“Probably.” John huffed softly. “Too soon to tell. We’ll find out soon enough.” He touched the back of one tiny hand with one finger, impossibly gentle.

“Ready for all the extra mischief?” You couldn’t help but smile, already thinking of all the trouble she’d get into with Gaz and Soap.

“Be good practice for them,” John rumbled, amused. “It’ll be fine, love.”

“I know.” You yawned, struggling to keep your eyes open now. “Trust you.”

“Go to sleep, love. I’ll keep watch.”

You managed to open one eye to shoot him an amused look. “The pack is literally outside ready to take on anything,” you pointed out. “You don’t need to keep watch.”

“Won’t stop me from doing it anyway.” John rumbled soothingly, pressing closer to you both.

“Ridiculous man.” But you smiled as you closed your eyes again, heart full to overflowing. The security of having the pack outside and your mate next to you made it easy to drift to sleep.

#born for greatness #shifter au #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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just-a-creep-babe · 1 year

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A Demon’s Ache — Part 9

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss!! Tysm!!!!! Your support has been so extraordinary, I’m so very thankful ❤❤❤

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

You don’t end up staying the night

And that’s alright, he’s ok with that

He knew not to expect a miracle overnight

And he’s just happy he got another taste of you

It still hurts, and he’s not entirely sure where the two of you stand, but he tries his best to be there for you when you need him

He’d do anything for you—what’s a bit of confusion and unrequited love in the grand scheme of things, really?

And he knows he must be doing something right when things aren’t even awkward the next day

He sees you at the kitchen table, sipping on your morning coffee, and you don’t avoid his gaze, don’t stiffen at the sight of him or anything

You just offer him a small smile and a nod, just like you usually do

Relief floods through him

He pours himself some dark brew, then slips into the spot next to you

Neither of you say anything, but the quiet is nice

It’s warm and familiar, and pleasantly comforting

He has the urge to reach out and touch you somehow, like maybe brush his thumb over your knuckles or rest his hand on your lap, but he holds himself back

He should leave it up to you

Whatever you want, he’ll give

Anything for you

He doesn’t know what to expect from this point forward

He, again, finds himself surprised when you show up at his door a few nights later

You don’t seem as desperate as you had the first time, but he can still smell your arousal, he can still sense your want

You look up at him, all nervous and bashful, and fuck, he can already feel his instincts just begging to take over

Begging to ruin you

“H-hey”

You sound hesitant, but he can tell by the breathiness of your voice that you’ve come for something very specific

“Hey”

He tries to keep his own voice even, tries not to let the low rumble of his words intimidate you

“I… I, uhm…” you trail off, like you’re not entirely certain what to say

You don’t have to say anything

He knows why you’re here, and here’s more than happy to oblige

He steps back, lets you in, then closes the door behind you—just like the first time

You’re biting your lip when he turns back to look at you, and he gets the sudden urge to grab your cheeks, force your lips apart, and jam his tongue down your throat

What he wouldn't give to mark you, claim you

He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm his instincts

Focus on you, that's all he needs to do

Above everything else, above his own needs, you're his top priority

"On the bed," he orders

Fuck, how he adores the way you follow his orders

He follows suit, admiring the sight of your body as you sit on the bed

And when your gazes meet, something about the look in your eyes just makes him want to ruin you

He gets onto the bed, then coaxes you to lie back so that he can pin you down beneath him

You look so fucking cute, so adorably flustered when you’re caged between his arms

"J-Jack..."

The way you whimper his name, the way your hands shyly reach up to touch his pelvis—do you even know how insane you drive him?

He wants to push his hips forward, wants to grind himself into your hands so you can feel how unbearably hard you make him

But he's terrified of losing control, so he doesn't allow himself the simple pleasure

Instead, he growls out a hum, tilts his mask up, and then he's kissing his way down your body

He fans his fingers out over your torso, pushing your shirt up over your sternum so that he can kiss your freshly exposed skin

You gasp as his lips press against your stomach, then down to the curve of your hips

He tries his best not to bite, not to litter you with marks, no matter how badly he wants to, but he can't resist giving you a few playful nips every now and then

Your hands reach out to tangle into his hair, and a spike of adrenaline rushes to his crotch at the way you tug at his roots

He groans, and it’s like the room suddenly gets very warm around him

Just like the first time, he wants to take his time, wants to make this last, but he's already salivating at the thought of devouring you again

His teeth graze the button of your pants, working to undo them, and when you whine and squirm, fingers pulling at his hair, he can't help but snarl against you

You whine out a curse in response, your hips buckling, and that's when he finally manages to pop the buttons open

He pulls the zipper down with his teeth, both of his hands pining your wriggling hips down as he does, and fuck, he almost loses it as your scent fills the room

Another groan escapes him

He pulls the material down your thighs, and then he's pressing his lips to the wet patch of your underwear, his tongue darting out to tease you over the soaked fabric

No amount of jerking off to the panties he stole could ever compare to this

He licks a long stoke up your folds, feels your thighs tensing around him as your back arches and your muscles clench eagerly

You're such a good girl for him

He rewards you by wriggling the tip of his wet muscle over your clit, and your reaction is utter bliss

"Jack, I-I need more~"

You sound so desperate for him

Another demonic growl erupts out of him, and he can only hope it doesn't scare you

He just can't help himself

Nor can he refuse such an appetizing request

He lifts both of your legs over his shoulders, securing them in place by gripping the flesh of your thighs, and then using just his tongue, he nudges the fabric of your panties to the side, and your perfect cunt is finally revealed to him

He nearly moans at the sight

You're drenched

The heady scent of your arousal fills the room until it's all he can focus on

He flattens his tongue over your glistening slit, and just like the first few times, he loses himself to you

It's almost obscene—the sound of him lapping your arousal, his spit and your cum mixing together at the tip of his tongue whenever he delves between your clenching walls

He hears you moaning his name, feels your back arching and your legs tensing, but it's almost like it feels distant

He's too absorbed in eating you out like a man starved

No matter how many times he gets to do this, he knows he'll never get tired of it

If anything, it's like it only keeps getting better

Like your body's shameless reactions keep getting so much fucking sexier

He works his tongue in all of the places he knows you need it most

And the sounds you keep making just encourage him to be all the rougher with you

"J-Jack—f-fuck!~"

Fingers tugging at his hair, you pull him in closer, losing control of your hips as you hump yourself into him, like you can't get enough

And he's most certainly not complaining

He lets you grind yourself against his mouth, enjoying every second of your arousal gushing onto his tongue

When he can sense you getting near, he focuses on your clit with his mouth, sucking hard enough to make you scream, and then he brings two fingers at your entrance and fucks them in and out of your pulsing walls

He's completely lost in you, lost in the way your sex fills his mouth, the way you keep squirming and clenching around his fingers

And then you scream his name again as he curls his digits, rubbing the calloused pads of his fingertips into your spongy walls, and a wave of arousal suddenly gushes out as you squirt all over him

He snarls, his hips pressing down instinctively to bring some very well-needed friction to his aching hard-on

And as he's trying to grind himself into the bed, trying to relieve his borderline painful erection, he laps up every ounce of arousal you offer up to him

He doesn't stop—he almost never can

It's only once your body goes limp in his hold does he realizes he might be hurting you if he keeps going

And the thought is just enough for him to pull himself away

He looks up at you, licking your cum from his mouth, and all he can think about is mating you, breeding you, marking you

He's insatiable for you

It becomes a semi-regular occurrence over the next few days

You show up at his door late at night, he gladly gives you the relief you need, and then you leave before he builds the courage to ask you to stay

Neither of you mention anything about it during the day

He wonders if any of the creeps catch on to the shift in your relationship

He'd think they would, considering how wonderfully loud you are for him, but he realizes that the sound-proofing in most rooms is exceptionally good

No one seems to give you knowing looks, and no one makes any noise complaints or anything

So Jack inevitably comes to the conclusion that no one knows

You become friends by day, secret lovers by night

He wonders if that's what you've wanted all along; a private fuck buddy without the bondage of commitment

He wonders if that's the same deal you have with Jeff

Either way, he tries not to think about things between you and Jeff

And he just tries to give you what you want when you want it

In an ideal world, he'd get more

In an ideal world, he'd make you his

But beggars can't be choosers, and he's nothing if not a beggar for you

He'll take whatever he can get

Your arrangement seems to change one night when there's a party at the mansion

It's late, the music is loud, and there are warm bodies dancing and grinding against one another

Parties aren't really Jack's thing, so he missed most of it in favor of going for a hunt

He runs into you on his way back, as he's weaving his way through the crowds of people to get to his room

"Jack! There you are!"

You seem excited to see him, judging by the way you reach out and grab his arm with a giggle

"I was looking for you, where were you?"

Someone bumps into you from behind, and you stumble forwards into Jack's arms, where he easily catches you

You laugh again as you steady yourself, and that's when he notices the unmistakable perfume of alcohol clinging to you

Ah, you're drunk

"I was out, I just got back," he explains over the loud thumping of the music

With a wide grin on your face, you shake your head

"You missed most of the party!"

"That was the plan," he claims, and for a split-second, he notices the way the flickering lights dance in your eyes, and it renders him speechless for a moment

Fuck, he swears you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen

"Come," you laugh, and then you're taking him by the hand and pulling him deeper into the house

He doesn't know where you're taking him, but he doesn't care

He wouldn't say no to you anyways

He lets you lead him down one of the halls, and he's assuming you're bringing him to a group of people or something

But instead of doing that, you end up pushing him into one of the closets lining the walls

He grunts as his back hits the wall inside, right next to the pole holding up old autumn coats

And then you're closing the closet door behind you, and as soon as you do, your lips are at his neck and your body's pressing up against his

He grunts again, this time in surprise as hands come up to your hips on instinct

You don't seem to hold back in your intoxicated daze, but even then, your teeth feel blunt and painless as you bite and lick at his skin

"(Y-y/n)..."

He groans your name, confused by your sudden advances—again, not that he's complaining—and in response, you press your body closer into his

You feel so warm, so soft and so deliciously small compared to him

It makes him realize how easy it would be to pick you up and fuck you on his cock

Like a perfect little fleshlite

But he quickly snaps himself out of it before his thoughts consume him

"What're you doing?"

It's your turn to groan, the pressure of your lips leaving his neck as you answer

"Isn't it obvious? I want you, Jack~"

Your hands fly down his torso, feeling him up over his clothes, impatiently bundling up the material before reaching for his pants

"Let me have you~"

Fuck

You're obviously drunk—surely, he can't do this—right?

He shouldn't take advantage of you, not like this

What if you regret it in the morning, and it ruins everything?

"(Y/n)" he repeats your name, and he knows he should be stopping you from undoing his pants, but god, they feel so fucking tight around him all of a sudden

"I don't—I don't know if we should," he admits, swallowing thickly, but even then, he finds himself sighing in relief when you pull down his zipper to allow his bulge to spring free

"I want to~" you hum, and how could he possibly say no when you’re practically begging for his dick?

"You always make me feel so, so good," you murmur, your hands still roaming his form as you get on your knees

Half-lidded eyes look up at him, teeth biting into your bottom lip

"And you never ask for anything in return"

Your fingers find the edges of his pants to tug down

He tilts his head as he watches you undress him, holding back a breathy groan because god, the view of you on your knees like that is fucking exquisite

"Let me make you feel good~"

It's the last thing you say before pulling his pants all the way down, bringing his boxers along with them

It's the first time you see his dick

He’s already hard and throbbing, precum beading from his tip with the vein along his shaft pulsing eagerly

And, judging by your reaction, you seem to like what you see

"Fuck," you breathe out a needy cuss, your brows furrowing as you wrap your hand around him

He takes in a sharp breath through his nose, his head falling back as he feels your touch on him

After all this time, after fantasizing about this for so long, you're finally touching him

When he looks back down, the sight has him growling

It's as obvious as ever how small you are compared to him, especially now that his cock is inches from your face

You squeeze the tip of his shaft, and his hips stutter as more precum dribbles from the tip

You hum, and then you're placing slow, soft kisses from the base of his shaft, all the way to his tip

Your lips are so fucking soft against him

He wants to fuck your throat so, so badly

He hisses out a breath, trying to control his urges, his fingers digging into the wall behind him as he swallows thickly

When you finally reach the tip, you give a few kitten licks to his slit, lapping at his precum, and his abdomen clenches, his cock twitching in your hold again

You almost hum again, making some pleased sound, and then you're parting your lips and taking him into your mouth, and he never knew a blowjob could feel this fucking good

You bob your head around him, trying to take him all the way down your throat while your hands work the rest of his length

You look up at him, maintaining eye contact as he hits the back of your throat, and he almost can’t believe this is actually happening

Every time you slide him and out of your lips, every time he reaches the back of your throat, he feels a fresh wave of heat and adrenaline racing through his body

Partygoers talk and laugh behind the thin walls of the closet, but he's beyond giving a shit

Not while you're kneeling in front of him and sucking him off

All he cares about is giving you every second of his undivided attention

He can only stand to watch for a few more seconds before he can't resist bringing his hands to your hair

And with his newfound leverage, he guides your mouth up and down his shaft, going just slow enough so that you can still control the pace

But it, of course, is inevitable for him to want more

His hips buckle again, and you gag as he thrusts himself deeper into your inviting mouth

It should encourage him to be more gentle, but all it does is make him more insatiable

Keeping one hand around your hair, he rocks his hips in and out of your parted lips

And he tries to be gentle, he really does

But with every passing second, every stroke of your tongue rubbing the underside of his shaft, he almost loses it

He all but throat-fucks you, panting and groaning, occasionally hissing out filthy praises as you gag and make the most filthy noises around him

You look so fucking cute, so fucking perfect drooling and gagging around his cock

He needs to have you

Needs to pick you up, slam you against the wall and claim you for good

But he knows he shouldn't—especially not now, when you're not even sober

His cock keeps twitching, and his mind is all hazy, and he's getting so fucking close

You wince, squeezing your eyes shut as he tangles both hands into your hair to pump his length into you with reckless abandon

Drool and precum spill from your swollen lips, coating your chest in the shiny liquid, and it's all so beautifully obscene

Every thrust, every lewd sound escaping your throat when he crams his length between your lips pumps fresh waves of ecstasy through his body

"H-aah—fuck~"

He throws his head back again, a low, almost dangerous snarl evading him

And then in one final snap of his hips, he pushes himself all the way into your mouth and cums down your throat

You whimper, squirming beneath him as you struggle to swallow down everything he has to offer

He feels like a filthy degenerate for thinking so, but fuck, he can't deny adoring the way you swallow him down

You're so fucking perfect

He gives a few more languid thrusts between your lips, not wanting it to end

He could easily go for another round, easily spend the whole night fucking your cute little brains out, but he knows he shouldn't

And so he eventually reluctantly leaves the warmth of your mouth, his cock popping out from between your lips with an obscene wet sound

You look up at him, all glassy-eyed and breathless, looking so eager to please as you wipe the spit from your lips

"That feel good?" you ask, looking all cute and innocent, as if you didn't just suck him off in a closet surrounded by strangers

Fuck, you're going to be the death of him

#creepypasta #eyeless Jack #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x reader smut #creepypasta x reader smut

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photmath · 11 months

Text

Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Aurèle

Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (18+), MDNI, some angst, kissing, fluff

Note: Oh, these two, always up to no good.

Aurie had come home quietly, the manila folder had burned an imprint into the passenger seat of her car. She wasn’t sure if Kylian was home but for what it was worth, she hoped so. She didn’t want to go into the night without talking, and she knew he wasn’t going to miss his scheduled rehab session, despite them both being thirty minutes late. She hadn’t even rushed to leave the nursing home when she realized her and Camille spent too long talking.

As she walked into an empty house, she placed the manila folder behind a set of planted pots. Was there a potential million euro check casually sitting on a dresser not hidden well? Yes. But she could care less for the moment being.

She explained to Camille everything that happened in the car, at the tennis match—everything. She told her how intoxicating it was to feel so carefree despite Kylian sitting next to her. She showed her the pictures of her with Serena and Naomi, her sister absolutely elated for Aurie to have experienced such unique opportunities.

Aurie also showed her the message from their mom, told her about the lecture she got from her in the rehab room, and the lengthy conversation afterward with Kylian where she explained to him everything that happened.

Although Camille was happy for her and advised her for hours at the nursing home, she also had to remind Aurie of what could transgress because of Aurie now being pictured on social media with Kylian. And it happened fast. They already knew her first name and her social media accounts. Someone had spread a rumor that she was Kylian’s manager and despite it being false, she was thankful that it distracted them from the truth for the time being.

It scared Aurie, but she had her own priorities to focus on before she added something else to her already heavy plate, and as long as her socials were private, she was calm.

That was until the front door opened and Bleu’s wagging tail weaved through the kitchen to greet the person home. Aurie perks her head up at Kylian, clad in black dress pants and a long-sleeve, white button-up shirt. The cuffs were folded up to the middle of his forearm and the first few buttons were undone, the tie hanging loosely around his neck.

If things weren’t so tense, she’d tell him how handsome he looked.

“Hi, chérie,” he gives her a warm smile.

She forces a thin-lined smile, “Hi, Ky.”

He walks over towards her, looking at the leftovers of the soup he made her, “You haven’t eaten?”

“No, have you?”

“Mm-hmm,” he responds, pulling his tie off of him and curling it up in his hand. He watches her diligently as she warms up a bowl, standing an arm’s length in front of her. Kylian wants her to ask him what he had for dinner—or anything for that matter—but she doesn’t.

Instead, she moves around him and takes her bowl to the dining room table. He sighs softly, following her and sits in the front chair.

“We have a session tonight, right?”

“Was supposed to start thirty minutes ago.”

“Is that why you’re upset?” he questions, his hands folding in his laps. “I’m sorry for being late.”

Aurie resists the urge to scrunch up her face or say something back. It wasn’t because he was late, she had been late as well and to hold that over his head would make her a hypocrite.

Both of them grow silently impatient with the other as neither speak.

Kylian grinds his teeth together, “What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to eat.”

Pursing his lips once more, he proceeds, “We both have things to say, so do you want to talk after you eat, during rehab?”

“Sure.”

Kylian gets up from his seat and goes upstairs to change into a different set of clothes. Throwing his tie across the room, he plops down on the bed with a groan. He feels the end of the bed shift in weight and he rolls his eyes as Maple’s gray fur comes into contact with him. She was purring loudly, bumping her head into his hand until he gave up and stroked her head.

“I don’t get her sometimes,” he whispers to her. Her purrs only get louder as he continues talking, “I’m usually so good at reading her mind, but I can’t right now.”

Maple lets out a meow and Kylian sits up, giving her one last pet before standing up and changing out of his clothes. He takes his time, hoping Aurie doesn’t feel rushed to finish eating before he finally heads downstairs. She wasn��t at the dining table, so he walks towards the rehab room where he sees her flipping through a textbook.

“Oof, you brought that out,” he chuckles, trying to lighten up the mood.

Aurie only gives him a curt smile, a coarse laugh escaping out of her, “Just for one exercise.”

As she finally set up the bicycle with a barely-there resistance, instructing him to not go past a certain number of revolutions per minute, were they finally talking.

Kylian started first: “I disliked how you handled my heat exhaustion.”

“What did you dislike about it?” she asked, watching the bike stat’s monitor.

“It was a lot, Aurie. You didn’t tell me what was going on before you did anything. You usually do.”

“What do you even remember about that?”

“I remember you stripping my clothes off—”

“Lower your speed,” she instructs.

“—I would have at least liked to have been told why you were doing what. I mean come on, in front of Paul and Mac.”

Aurie sighs, having to listen to him talk and monitor his speed at the same became difficult. She was listening and made sure not to interrupt him, but it was challenging when she wanted to yell back despite feeling so tired. This was the latest they had ever done rehab, a whole hour later yet it felt much later. She still needed to shower afterward before bed.

“So?” Kylian tuts, “Why did you do it?”

She crosses her arms, looking at him finally and his expression suddenly softens from her red-brimmed eyes. Immediately concerned, he swallows as her shoulders slack. He regrets his bratty attitude seconds prior.

“Your heart rate was too fast at the time. You’re an easily-queasy person, so if I were to tell you in that moment that you could have a heat stroke, you would’ve panicked and caused one yourself just from panicking. I needed to act fast, and one of the best ways to do so is by submerging your unclothed body in ice cold water. Given that we were not near a bathtub, I chose to drench you with water at that moment.”

Kylian stops pedaling, his arms uncrossing and falling against his waist, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry that I let you get to that point,” Aurie whispers. “I should’ve noticed that you were drinking so much water and that your skin was clammy and cold. I was distracted with my own thoughts…not focusing on you.”

Kylian shakes his head, standing up and stepping towards her, “Wait, no, Aurie. No you aren’t allowed to blame yourself. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize what was happening was serious.”

“Had I not been—”

“No,” Kylian cradles Aurie’s face in his hands, tugging her closer to him. “I was short-tempered at the time, irritated, and hot. I didn’t mean to come in the way of you doing your job.”

Aurie peels his hands away from her, “But you have! You have come in the way of my job. Every single day, I’m distracted by you. By your manners, the way you care so much, the way you take care of me. I mean Kylian, we were supposed to be out of the limelight, away from the cameras, and here I am wanting to bring you to the Roland Garros. What happened to the rules we had in the beginning? They’re gone. We’ve both come so lenient and now look at us doing your rehab so late.”

Kylian turns towards her, “We both made those decisions though, Aurie.”

“And something could have seriously happened to you.”

“But nothing did because you were right there. I might’ve been unwilling, but you were going to do what you needed to do anyway, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she quiets down.

“I had the signs, sure, but you said it yourself sometimes it can just happen. I haven’t been in the sun for a while, so maybe that’s why it happened.”

Aurie frowns, “You’re only proving everything I should’ve seen.”

Kylian steps towards her as she steps back, “No. Stop bringing yourself down. I’m not going to let you do that, and it doesn’t seem like you want to be here all night.”

Aurie leans against the treatment table, folding her arms. She didn’t do anything wrong, but staring at Kylian wasn’t enough to convince her. The increased inflammation of his calf he had because he had to drive her to the hospital mocked her. His heat exhaustion. Their first encounter with Lucette. There were so many little things now coming to light because of her mishaps.

Was everything out of her control? There was nothing she could grasp, nothing she could hold onto and define that it wasn’t going to throw a curveball at her. That there would be no tricks.

Her pets? They’d be there. The Summer Gala? Well, that was up to her. And Kylian? He was the fastest spinning ball there was.

Kylian shifts his weight on his leg, worried from her blank expression, “Aurie?”

She shakes her head, “Come on, let’s finish this up.”

If there was one thing she was going to attempt to control right now, it was going to be his leg and damn the time it was.

Forget the money, forget Kylian going against her wishes to not make a donation. She would express her concerns in the morning when they were both well rested because she couldn’t continue looking at him and seeing him this way. Especially when he wasn’t deserving of the entire wrath.

Kylian, on the other hand, fought visibly expressing his annoyance at her changing the conversation. He could tell there were still questionable thoughts behind her tear-stricken eyes. He knew if he pestered, she’d say it was nothing.

“Okay,” he mutters, hopping back onto the bike.

That was the last bit of conversation they had, moving along the night in silence as Aurie told him what to do next, her hands guiding his leg and hip every now and then. Her touch still burned his skin, and it was different to not have a flowing conversation through the session.

But they were tired. The day had been way too long for the both of them.

After his shower, he checked his phone for any missed calls from his dad and he was unsurprised to see both of his parents had called him and texted him. They wanted to start his discussions of a transfer, still gunning for a done deal before the July preseason matches began.

Walking upstairs, he tiptoed slowly past Aurie’s door, resisting the urge to look through her ajar door. The light from her lamp crept into the hallway. He sighed and turned around, peeking through the gap to see her laid across her bed. He stepped closer to her room and entered the room to turn off the lamp.

She looked tired, evident bags underneath her eyes as she stirred. He bent down to kiss her forehead briefly before turning towards the lamp. Little trinkets of hers surrounded it, he wished he could ponder their significance, but Aurie stirred again. He turned off the lamp and used the light from his phone to go back to his bedroom.

---

Aurie woke up to the pittering pattering of rain, but also Bleu’s jingling collar as he went back and forth in the corridor. Kylian shushed him, earning a whine from Bleu as he raced him down the stairs.

She groaned, flipping over and throwing the blanket over her head. She wanted more sleep and coffee at the same time. She begrudgingly sighed, getting up and starting her day by making her bed and brushing her teeth.

Going downstairs, she sees Kylian with her red umbrella through the backyard door throwing a frisbee away from Bleu as he takes off, catching it and then running back towards Kylian. She starts the kettle and goes outside, leaning against the door as Kylian flings the frisbee once more.

She twists her face, “What are you wearing?”

He looked ridiculous. Shirtless, black shorts with socks stretched to his knees, and of course chunky black shoes that looked abruptly slipped into. Kylian turns around, a wide smile adorning his face, “Good morning, chérie.”

“You look like a mess.”

“He wanted to play.”

“So you found time to put on socks but no shirt?”

He shrugs, “Priorities.”

Aurie rolls her eyes, a smile ghosting her lips as Kylian walks towards her. Her eyes stay on his, fighting every urge to glance down at his chest.

He smirks, “How are you?”

“I still feel tired.”

“Yeah? You want me to make you a coffee?”

“I have the kettle on right now, no need.”

He nods slowly, glancing at Bleu running back towards them, “He jumped on my bed, you know?”

“I told you,” she shrugs. “They’re a lot.”

“I didn’t mind it, but he scared me.”

“And Maple? She wasn’t with me last night.”

He rolls his eyes, “She slept at my feet.”

Aurie snickers, Kylian’s head snapping towards her lips. He hadn’t heard a version of a laugh in hours and it warmed his heart. He blushed as she spoke, the words going in one ear and out the other.

Bleu nudges his thigh with the frisbee and he throws it once more, Aurie’s eyes not leaving the contracting muscles of his shoulders as he swung it. A few water droplets had the pleasure of hugging his skin as they trailed down his back.

She shudders, “I’m going to go make my coffee.”

“Okay.”

She goes inside, a bit jittery as she makes her cup. Her eyes land on the corner of her manila folder as she takes a sip. One more talk, and then finally their troubles could be pushed past behind them.

Kylian comes inside, a coy smile dancing across his face as he sees Aurie. His excitement is contagious, earning a nervous giggle from her all of sudden. She wants to roll her eyes at herself for having no self-control, but Kylian looked breathtaking: his eyebrows perked up in delight, strong shoulders still glaring at her, and the awful excuse of shorts she had ever laid eyes on. They were short and tight with only a finger-length room for him to breathe in.

She doesn’t even have to remind him to wipe Bleu’s paws, he takes the towel and does it himself before turning around to face her.

“You’re staring, Aurie,” Kylian winks as Aurie looks at him. She shakes her hand, turning around to hide the mess of her flustered state.

“Go put on a shirt.”

He laughs, following her command and going upstairs. She wishes the coffee were hotter, more bitter, so that her mind wouldn’t be so focused on how his chest caved with each breath he took.

Goodness.

Kylian’s thumping footsteps make her glance at him as he nears, now in a navy zip-up that exposes more chest than usual. There was no undershirt underneath—of course. His eyes, however, are focused on something else: the folder. Eyebrows furrowing, he grabs it, turning it over to see if it’s the exact one he gave Angie yesterday.

“Can we talk about that?” Aurie suggests.

He purses his lips, “How did you know?” His sullen, hooded eyes peer up at her with guilt. The last thing he wanted was for Aurie to find out the check was donated by him, knowing that she was persistent about not wanting his money.

“They gave it to me,” she shrugs, walking towards him. “Timing was just a bit odd, hmm? And I know none of the residents have families that are wealthy enough to easily donate that kind of money.”

“You don’t know that.”

She sets down her coffee, crossing her arms, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Kylian wants to scoff, but the way Aurie tried to appear unwavering humored him. Her hip was jutted out to one side, the slight furrow of her eyebrows, and lips pressed so tightly that it almost looked like a forced smile.

“I don’t want your money, Ky,” she says softly, loosening the firmness of her arms. Her sudden change in demeanor makes Kylian step towards her, face riddled with concern.

“Hey,” he grabs onto her elbow to soothe her defeated state.

“No, I’m serious,” she bumps his hand away, “I know the funds were tight and that we didn’t have enough, but seriously, a million is too much.”

“It’s a donation for a reason, Aurie, you were never supposed to grab ahold of the envelope anyway.”

“But I did.”

He smacks his lips, “Think of this as your birthday present—I didn’t get you anything, so here is the gift.”

“I can’t accept that.”

“It’s the nursery’s money.”

“In my name?”

He groans, suddenly bursting into a smile, “I can’t believe you’re being like this right now.”

Aurie’s taken aback by his nonchalant expression, “Why are you giggling? This isn’t funny. I don’t want you to look at this nursing home like it’s some horrid, underfunded place. It’s not.”

“I never said that,” he says. “However, a monetary donation wouldn’t hurt. New equipment, new bedding, new decorations. Medications—”

“Now you make me sound like a spoiled brat.”

He shrugs, dipping his head lower to hers as he laughs, “I never said that either.” His nose brushes up against her cheek as he hands her back the envelope. Aurie has to wrap her hand around his neck or else she’d be too off balance.

“I know what you’re doing,” she gently pushes him back as he chuckles, standing up. She grabs a hold of the back of his neck more firmly, changing her mind. She sets the envelope back onto the dresser and then presses her front against his waist.

He glances down at her lips with a bashful smile. Although everything told Aurie to refuse the check because of its large sum, she knew she could distribute the rest of the difference to different departments within the home. Some of the beds did need an upgrade and they could never have too much of a savings. Kylian’s money wasn’t out of pity and it would be selfish to decline something that could help others. She didn’t want to argue anymore and try to negotiate something that was meant to be a donation; Angie shouldn’t have given her the envelope in the first place but she wasn’t upset.

Before Kylian kisses her, she reels back, “What if we did half of the million?”

He shakes his head, the smile and gaze never leaving, “No.”

“Three-quarters?”

“No. Now kiss me, damn it,” he groans hoarsely, as if he was going through withdrawals from not being able to touch her the past hours. It hadn’t even been a full day.

“Wait,” she urges, her thumb pressing into his jaw to get him to look up at her. “I’m sorry for drawing this out. I didn’t mean to, and if I wasn’t so tired last night, we could’ve resolved it all.”

“It’s okay, it was late,” he assures. He watches the way she breaks eye contact with him and momentarily focuses on the backyard door in her line of view. “What’s wrong?”

Aurie deflates, pressing onto her tippy toes to close the space between them and bury her head into the crevice of his shoulder. He feels her fist the cotton of his jacket on his backside, so he wraps his arms more snug around her waist and back. He lays gentle kisses on her shoulder and neck to comfort her.

“I’m being too hard on myself, aren’t I?” she asks meekly.

He wants to cradle her to the living room couch to hold her properly, but he doesn’t make the move. Instead, he plants the top of his head on hers, caressing her back, “You are, belle.”

“I have a bad habit of self-sabotaging things.”

He shakes his head, her wincing at his strong jaw rubbing against her. He chuckles, “Sorry—I don’t think that’s what you are doing now. I think you’re focusing on everything that’s going wrong and missing what has gone right. Setbacks happen. No matter how much we prep to prevent them or try to do everything to avoid them, they happen. All of your cards happened to land at the same time that you haven’t had time to deal with them. It’s okay, alright? We accept it and move on, yeah?”

She nods, picking up her head, “Why couldn’t you give me that talk a couple of days ago?”

He kisses her forehead, “You’re strong regardless. With or without what I say.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Kiss?” He sees the glint of mischief in her eye before he can grip her shirt tighter, and within an instant, she pushes from out of his arms and takes off running towards the living room. Her laugh echoes across the downstairs. “Aurie, that isn’t fair!”

He scurries behind her, walking quietly around the wall and sees Aurie slipping into the library. He laughs, picking up his pace, “My calf is still injured!”

“Don’t run,” she stops to look at him. He smiles, opening his arms wider now that she’s cornered into one room.

“I’m a little insulted, you know. Running away from me like that?” He raises his eyebrows to feign hurt as she rolls her eyes, bouncing on her heels. He leans against the column of the wall, his hand resting against the top arch, “Well, you can’t run.”

Aurie sighs, skidding towards him. It was hot. The way he raised his arm against the edge, a part of his hip exposed underneath his jacket. She could admit defeat and now was one of them.

She rises to the ball of her feet as Kylian’s dimples deepen with anticipation. She kisses him softly, the both of them sighing into it as if they had been underwater for too long and were now just getting a breath of fresh air.

Her hands find exactly what they’re seeking: his hips. He grunts at the sudden warm contact, not expecting her touch. It was hesitant, almost tickling him at how slowly she’s pressing her entire palm on him. His lips tug into a smile as he leans down towards her.

Aurie gains the encouragement to draw his hips closer to her and Kylian groans at the feel of their bodies pressing against one another. Aurie’s fingernails pressing into his sides almost make him lose his footing. Tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth, Kylian takes a hold of her face with a little more urgency. Aurie’s teasing hands continue, her pinky unknowingly slipping underneath the hemline of his shorts.

He pulls back, mouth agape as he opens his eyes to meet Aurie’s cheeky ones. He laughs nervously, eyelids batting down, suddenly feeling hot in the jacket he wore.

“Are you…flustered?” Aurie teases.

He rolls his eyes, “No.”

“Oh my god,” she slides her hands off of him, and he’s quick to search for them to put them back in place.

“I’m not,” he says with confidence.

“I’m not judging.”

“It feels like you are.”

“I’m judging you for lying.”

“Same thing.”

“Will you shut up for once?” she playfully rolls her eyes, slapping his hands away and walking away.

Kylian scowls at the stiffness of his shorts, begrudgingly following her, “Where are you going?” He can still taste the coffee from her lips as he rounds the corner. “You’re kidding.”

Aurie shrugs, sipping on her coffee as he pouts. He shakes his head, lips pursed as he takes ahold of the mug from her grip and dumps it into the sink.

Her jaw drops, “Kylian.”

“You’ll be fine, you addict.”

She laughs, “Unbelievable. What has gotten into you?”

“You,” he kisses her, trapping her against the counter. Her hand tugs down the zipper of his jacket, slipping her hands inside to shrug it off. “I lied earlier.”

She continues nonetheless as she stares at him with a hint of confusion, “About what?”

“Your birthday present. The check was never meant as your gift.”

“Ah,” she nods. “I would hope not. Money is a shitty gift.”

He chortles, “Not the point. I got you something, it just took a while to be made.”

“Made?”

“Mm-hmm,” he fumbles off the jacket and then searches through one of the pockets. His shirtless physique suddenly no longer intrigues her as he pulls out a square-shaped box. “It’s a necklace.”

“Thank you because I almost had a heart attack.”

Kylian titters, “Here.” He hands her the black, velvet box and she opens it. She had never received jewelry as a gift so she didn’t know what to expect, and so a daisy framed in gold catches her off guard. It’s bigger than the size of her thumb but not too large, a single daisy. Delicate details are etched into each petal with a patterned-cluster in the middle, there had to be almost twenty petals with how skinny each petal was but it was perfect.

Aurie continues to admire it with such rigor that Kylian chews on his bottom lip, “Is it too big? It’s not heavy, I promise. You won’t even feel it. Although, I wouldn’t advise running with it on, I don’t think it will pop up and hit you in your face but—”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers. She didn’t want to think about the price of it; it was a gift from Kylian. It was her first meaningful jewelry piece and she was going to be damned if she felt guilty about it because she didn’t buy it.

It was a gift, she reminded herself. It had been years since she received such a thoughtful gift.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I liked daisies.”

He chuckles, “It’s probably the only flower I know.” She looks up at him and he throws his hands up in surrender. “I know, don’t murder me. I only know daisies and roses. You wore a shirt with a daisy on it and throughout the house, you have tiny fake ones around—and it’s not like you have a flower you dislike. Plus, I found some in my room. Speaking of which, I think I killed that flower, it’s drooping—”

Aurie quiets him down with a kiss, her nails tugging against his shoulder that he hisses. His hands settle against her waist as they part. Her eyes are still wide with admiration and shock, “Thank you, Kylian, this is the sweetest gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Turn it around.”

“The daisy?” He nods. She flips the pendant around and gasps at the tiny engraved ‘Aurèle’ in one of the petals. It’s written so eloquently and crisp that she doesn’t even have to squint to read the tiny font.

“Oh my god.”

“Do you want me to put it on?”

“I’m scared I’m going to break it.”

“You won’t,” he takes the box from her hand and unwraps it. “Plus, it’s insured. Do you want your name showing, or no?”

She laughs, “Hmm, name showing.”

He makes sure it’s facing the correct direction before clasping it around her. She pinches it between her thumb and pointer finger, grinning as she faces him.

His face lights up, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she sniffles. “I’m going to start crying if we keep on talking about it.”

His hands clasp behind her waist as he leans in to place chaste kisses on her lips. They’re slow but meaningful, savoring every second of it while Aurie wraps her arms around Kylian’s neck. She’s already pressed against the counter as Kylian steps even closer to her.

Aurie’s cheeks flush as she feels Kylian’s arousal, letting out a small gasp. Her eager hands trace the ridges of his shoulders as he slips his tongue into her mouth. He finds the hem of her shirt and runs his hands across her bare waist, pinching her softly to elicit another moan.

He reels back, whispering, “Aurèle.”

Aurie’s eyes open immediately and look up at him. He’s afraid that he said the wrong thing, that she is going to slip through his arms and run—again. His grip tightens but then quickly loosens, not wanting her to feel trapped between him. He takes a step back, “I’m sorry.”

She wishes she could hide her shock better, to not make him feel as if he was in the wrong, but only a few people called her ‘Aurèle’ and that wasn’t a secret. Kylian was lost in the moment, muttering the name he was infatuated with.

“It’s okay,” she nods. “I like it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t—”

“You don’t say it in a condescending tone,” she interrupts, reaching forward to kiss him.

“How do I say it then?” his lips curl up.

She shrugs, “Like something else.” Endearing, appreciative, full of admiration, it was unlike any other. Before Kylian’s hands can sneak underneath her shirt, she pulls away and walks away from him.

“No more running,” he whines, adjusting his shorts now that she isn’t facing him.

“Then follow me, princess.”

He grumbles, rolling his eyes. Aurie triggered the air conditioning on that it made him shiver as he followed her up the stairs, wincing with every step. She goes into his bedroom first, gasping at the drooping Calathea plant. He rounds the bedroom door as he hears her mutter, “Jeez, did you even attempt to water it?”

“I thought you were going to,” he bites onto his lip. He sits down on the edge of his bed and watches her walk back into the bedroom with a cup of water.

He was itching for her touch to get his mind out of the haze and misery. Aurie had to be messing with him and it pained him as he gritted his teeth. She was so oblivious, walking around as if she wasn’t turned on herself.

“Aurie,” he rasps.

“Hmm?”

“I thought you said you weren’t running.”

“I’m not,” she assures, setting down the cup that is usually in her restroom next to the pot, “this only took a second.” She walks towards him and he gulps involuntarily. Aurie can make out the subtle desperation in his eyes, a sympathetic smile forming while kissing his forehead. He holds himself by locking his elbows, leaning against the bed.

She raises her eyebrows, “Oh?”

“Are you going to restrain yourself?”

“If you want me to.”

He snorts, his thumb reaching up caress her jaw, “I’m a second away from begging, Aurie, you’re killing me.” She snickers, sliding on top of his thighs, the movement catching him off guard. He holds in his cough, “Fuck.”

“If I knew I had this much of an effect on you, I would’ve stopped teasing earlier,” she chuckles, her hands resting on his shoulders.

“You didn’t notice at all?” he gapes, his hands creeping against her lower back. His eyes don’t leave her lips, intoxicated by her smile.

“I did,” she admits, “I don’t know, I just thought you would try to do a little better to hide it.”

His eyes narrow as he laughs, shaking his head while adjusting her legs. His hands roam her bare thighs as he kisses her, deepening it and then pulling away to kiss her neck.

Aurie isn’t slick as she rolls her hips further into his, her insides fluttering as she feels him against her. He groans, nipping and sucking her supple skin.

Everything in him ached to move faster, to roll her over and continue, but he resisted the urge. Sure, he hurt, but he could wait.

She squirms as his cold hands wander underneath her shirt, finally bunching it up in his hand and pulling it over her head. The bandages that cover her frontside don’t stop him, it only makes him pull her closer to him. The feeling of their skin touching radiates shockwaves throughout the both of them. Aurie draws her neck to the side, sighing under the assault of his lips on her skin.

The necklace shined from the light peering in from the windows. It made his legs twitch as he stared at it, leaning in to kiss the pendent. Aurèle. His.

He sucks on the skin above her bra line, earning another hiss from her. Kylian smirks, causing her to grind her hips once more against his bulge. He groans, releasing her skin from his teeth and pinches at her bra clasp. As he pulls down her brown straps, he maintains eye contact with her while her nails dig around his neck. Once Aurie feels the cool air hit her nipple, she murmurs, wanting him to make contact with her but he refuses.

A sly smirk marks his face as he rests his arms underneath her bottom while standing up, walking her to the other side of his bed and laying her down. Aurie’s breasts brush against his chest and it sends her into a frenzy. He chuckles, finally sliding his fingers across her chest and landing on her needy nipple as he pulls the other into his mouth. Having her exposed like this was everything to him, he couldn’t believe he made her feel this free and comforted to be seen so intimately.

Aurie chokes out a moan, having wished for this moment for a while. She’s suddenly thankful that she closed Kylian’s door when she walked in and out of the room to water the plant, making sure it wouldn’t budge. Kylian hadn’t even noticed, too hungover with his aching bulge.

“Kylian,” she whines, wrapping her arm around his head as he swirls his tongue around her sore nipple. He was pinching the other, making her squirm underneath him, her hand not being shy as it traced his curves. She stopped at his pelvic bones, pressing into the skin as a tease and Kylian’s hips buckled down. Her hands teetered around his shorts until they reached the center.

Kylian’s warm breath fans around her nipple as she palms his bulge through his shorts. He glances up at her and she only gives him a playful smile. His teeth skimmed across her erect nipple and then slid to the other. Aurie was relentless, working on sliding down his shorts and caressing his thighs. Her burning touch only made his concentration more complicated, already feeling a small dampness pool in his boxers. He knew that once Aurie found the spot her hands would begin taunting him.

He groans, nipping at her nipple once more before kissing the skin underneath her boob. He knew to be gentle as he neared down, not wanting to painfully rip off any of her bandages by accident.

He tugs down her shorts and raises an eyebrow at her. For all the running away she did, her underwear illustrated a different story. The light gray material was decorated with a darkened puddle.

“Stop staring,” Aurie pleads, wrapping her hands around his forearms. He smiles, hovering over her to kiss her. He plants a couple of kisses on her cheeks, they’re haste and rough as he laughs.

He wanted to scream it, wanted to tell her right then and there but he couldn’t get his throat to say it. Staring down at her, he nudges her nose with his as he kisses her one last time. “Aurèle.”

She snickers, grabbing his chin, “You like saying my name, hmm?”

“It’s beautiful,” he smiles. He catches Aurie off guard by sneaking up his hand to pinch her nipple, earning a smack from her. He winks, sliding his knuckles down to her core, brushing over her clothed clit. He watches her facial expressions contort, still hovering over her. “You’re beautiful.”

Their mouths meet in a feverish kiss, Aurie pulling herself more upward to get Kylian to slide down but it’s no use. He presses the pad of his thumb against her clit and she groans, grabbing a hold of his shoulders to stay upright.

“You’re teasing,” she exhausts, earning a chuckle from him. He grabs a hold of her legs and pushes her further onto the bed.

“Mm-hmm,” he kisses her nose, “welcome to my life.”

“I didn’t tease this much.”

He looks at her through his hooded gaze as he traces his fingers alongside her underwear. Aurie’s cheeks swell with heat, stifling a nervous laugh from her. He shakes his head with a smile. He pulls her underwear down with haste, earning a yelp from Aurie. His fingers don't hesitate to trace along her thighs and clit. And god was he moving slow.

He bends down and gives her thighs a kiss, inching closer and closer until his tongue finally settles onto her clit. The moan Aurie let out was unguarded, so desperate that it drowned out the splattering of the rain. Her hands can only reach his shoulders as he settles himself between her thighs.

She’s sweet, writhing through every stroke of his tongue that he wraps one arm around her thigh while the other massages her breast.

“Kylian—” she mewls, adjusting to the speed of his tongue that further inched down to her core. She wants him, wants to be able to hold him as she rides out her pending orgasm.

Aurie scratches his shoulders and he doesn’t mind the markings, knowing that he already left a couple on her. He continues, obliviously, letting his fingers coat with her juices. He knows by her jerky movements and erratic breathing that she’s close, so he picks up his speed not wanting to tease her.

“I’m close,” she says, her leg beginning to shake against his shoulder. She grinds her hips frantically, chasing her orgasm while he licks most of her slick juices around him. He presses his tongue hesitantly against her swollen clit, noticing the sudden jolt of her body from its overstimulation. He chuckles, pressing one last kiss on her before scooting up.

Her eyes flutter open with a blissful smile, perking her chin up to meet his glistening lips.

“You okay, amour?”

“Cloud fucking nine,” she slurs. He laughs, kissing her dampened neck and cheek. Her arms lazily wrap around him, and Aurie can’t get enough of the look in his eyes. They’re giddy, scanning her face with such rigorous attention that it makes her heart swell. His deep dimples don’t leave his face as he kisses her flushed cheeks again. She smiles, “You look so handsome.”

Kylian cheeses, burying his head into her neck, say it!

“Thank you,” he blurts.

“My turn,” she grins, attempting to roll them over but he doesn’t budge.

“I won’t last long.”

“I lasted a couple of minutes, it can't be that hard to beat.”

He shakes his head, “I’m really hard, Aurie.”

“Way to sound sexy.”

He groans at the sudden contact of her hand on him, shutting his eyes closed and rolling his head against her shoulders. Aurie pushes down his boxers, making them fall to the floor and he steps out of them. Her hand wraps around his tip immediately, evoking a groan and deep breath from him. His moans only sound more airy and yearning as she strokes him.

“Do you have a condom?”

“No, I’m on the pill though,” she admits. “Are you okay with that?”

He groans as she squeezes him lightly, trying to remember if he had ever seen Aurie take a pill. He can’t think clearly, not with her hand wrapped around him. “Where is it?”

Her hand stops, “Do you want me to go get it?”

He trusted her and knew that she couldn’t possibly be lying about something like that, but his rationale side still managed to scream for him to look for the pack. Kylian’s throaty voice murmurs against the mattress, “Fuck, Aurèle, I can’t—”

“It’s right next to my lamp, I can get it real fast,” she reassures. She can’t stop the laugh that manages to gargle out of her, the situation not funny at all, but Kylian’s ragged breathing only kept on hitching the more she stopped and pulled away.

Kylian’s eyes open in recognition, “It’s a pink rectangle?”

“How did you know?”

“I saw it when I went to turn off your lamp last night,” he kissed her cheek, picking himself up.

His eyes are cloudy as he presses his hardened self against her, the both of them gasping lowly. Aurie spreads his slippery precum around his tip and Kylian can only groan. Finally, she lines him up with her entrance and the both of them moan at the resistance. She urges him to continue, beckoning him forward. He presses soft kisses alongside her collarbone as he enters her slowly, letting her adjust to his size. The stretch only intensified as he pulled out, his legs on the verge of shaking from her warmth.

He can’t get himself to say it as he continues his thrusts. He can only whisper it alongside her shoulder, but it’s too low for her to hear him. Tears brimmed her eyes from the mixture of pleasure and passion, trying her hardest to rapidly blink them away before Kylian noticed. Despite their skin meeting and the rain intensifying in the background, she can only make out the sound of her thumping heartbeat.

His hands trace down to her waist to increase his speed, careful to not touch her bandages. His breath hitches as he feels her clench around him, groaning at the added tightness. Aurie’s arms lock around him, granting him permission to pick up his speed. His sloppy kisses trail from her jaw to her lips, crashing onto them and letting Aurie have her way.

“I—” he stops himself again. He couldn’t do it, his breath physically stopping him from saying it. He feels Aurie’s uneasy breathing against him, signaling that she was close. As soon as she comes, Kylian follows behind her, moaning lowly now that he finally got his release. He sinks his head down into her shoulder as he pulls out, pulling her closer to him despite the mess between their legs. Her once centered necklace now lies against the side of her neck. He kisses it before he moves it back to its rightful place.

As her eyes flutter open and closed, Kylian simpers. He’s gentle as he strokes her back with her fingertips, ever so often does his touch tickle her.

After a lengthy moment's worth of cuddles and giggles shared, Kylian pries Aurie off to follow him into the shower. Her hands cling to him the entire time, a fond smile never leaving her lips—especially when Kylian almost makes the both of them slip in her bathtub.

She could get used to this, she thinks.

------

Note: I was tempted to drop a 10k worded chapter but restrained myself. Hmm, how are we feeling? I plan on there being almost three or four chapters left but shrug, we will see.

Taglist: @karotland @peaky-shelby @darlingmbappe @mrs-bellingham @kylianswifey @kymb-10 @fictional-l0v3r @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @itsjuspenny-blog @mattmurdocksbigtoe @formula101x @et-in-arcadia-ego77 @lovekm @okayymochi @titti-maja @jokertbh @venus2eros @heli991113 @neymarloverxxx @444jodie @mm2007 @freespirit-51 @flawlessdiamond1 @euphoriapillz @imagesthatlive @ohpuckyeah @nothingtoes

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe x oc #em.writes #comme les fleurs

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haee-elia · 8 months

Text

spence-tober: day 19 - surfer

pairing: surfer!spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: in which you enjoy your honeymoon with a little bit of added competition

word count: 1257

warnings: fluff

spence-tober masterlist

If there’s one thing people could agree on about you and your husband, it’s about your shared competitive nature.

That’s why, even now on your honeymoon, you and your husband have this unspoken bet. Who will give in first?

Who will pick up their board first and succumb to the beautiful waves of the Mamanuca Islands?

So far, you both had resisted the urge and have enjoyed spending time together in other ways. Scuba diving and snorkeling have fulfilled the water need and there are also many other activities that are available on the islands, not just surfing.

“The waves look nice today,” Spencer comments while standing in the small kitchen space of your rental, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

You roll your eyes as you sit in the chair to the vanity, messing with your hair to get ready for the day. These types of comments have come from the both of you ever since this unofficial, unspoken, bet aroused.

It had first started when you had landed in Fiji for your honeymoon. Everyone beforehand, like your family and friends, had told you that a honeymoon was time to spend together as newlyweeds after a hectic few months of wedding planning. You two took it as a competition on who would bail to go surfing first.

“They do look nice. Heard this morning there’s gonna be ten foot waves.” You reply back to Spencer, a smirk on your face.

“Ten feet?” Spencer questions, his hand motions stopping. You can see the cogs working in his brain, just thinking about the waves out there.

“Yep,” You answer, “But the tide’s gonna go down soon, so don’t know how much longer the waves are gonna last.” You watch Spencer carefully now, hoping that these few comments could break his resilience and he’d finally crack.

He knew you weren’t lying either. The small old fashioned radio on the coffee table had in fact commented about the high waves today. Spencer, in all his tall glory, didn’t often get to surf out tall waves, or at least tall for him.

You both traveled regularly for competitions, in fact, you had met at a competition five years ago. After stumbling into each other a few more times, you realized you were going to travel on the same circuit and decided to give dating a try. As two professional surfers, always traveling, it was hard to maintain a long-term relationship, but you and Spencer made it work.

It was fun to surf and train together. It was great to be able to show off new tricks. To have someone to cheer you on at competitions and to have someone who’s waiting for you back on the beach.

“Fine.” Spencer says, giving in with a smile on his face, “I’m going surfing today.”

You pump your fist in victory, “Yes! Alright, let’s go before the tide goes down.” You reply to him, quickly finishing at the vanity and running over to the tall wardrobe in your shared bedroom where you had hung up your wetsuits when you first arrived at your honeymoon rental.

Another plus of being professional surfers is times like these when you travel. You don’t have to worry about going back to work or PTO or anything. Both of you didn’t have competitions coming up any time soon and had postponed any sponsored content until a month after your wedding. That’s why you had rented the small bungalow for a few weeks rather than sticking to a hotel.

Spencer laughs, but you can hear him following right behind you. His arms wrap around your middle as you grab the wetsuits, “I love you.” He says, burying his head into your shoulder.

You turn your head and kiss his temple, his face is hidden into your skin, “I love you too, Spencer.”

You could feel a smirk form on his lips, “Since you touched the wetsuits first, you lost.”

“Uh, uh!” You exclaim in disagreement, whipping your head around to look at your husband. “You gave in!”

“But you touched the wetsuits…” Spencer playfully bantered back.

You shake your head at him and take your wetsuit out of the wardrobe, “Fine, then. Don’t even try to come to me when you need your wetsuit zipped up.” You walk off into the adjacent bathroom.

Spencer had always needed your help or someone else’s getting his wetsuit zipped all the way up. He was tall, which didn’t help, but his arms didn’t have the flexibility to reach for an attached string like you did with yours. You could easily zip your own wetsuit up with the help of an attached string that you could reach behind your back to get.

As you get ready in the bathroom, you can hear Spencer outside the door.

“Now wait a minute!” He says before going quiet for a moment. He doesn’t say anything else until you come out of the bathroom with your wetsuit on, ready to surf. He also has put on his wetsuit, but you can tell by the puckering at the neck of the wetsuit that he was not able to zip it up by himself.

He’s waiting, sitting on the bed and looks up to you with a pondering look, “Alright, you won.”

You laugh and walk over to him to straddle his hips. Both pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and bringing your hands around to his back to zip up the back for him.

“For now.” Spencer adds on once you two pull apart from your kiss.

You laugh and take his hand in yours, pulling him to the door and out to the outside of your rental.

In all fairness, you wouldn’t have been too far behind in giving in and losing the bet. Of course you loved spending time with Spencer and enjoyed all the other activities you shared, inside and outside of the rental. But there was always something special about sharing a surf with your beloved boyfriend, now husband.

In fact, this would be your first surf together since getting married. You both had another week in Fiji and the rest of your lives together so you didn’t doubt at all that this would be the last.

Hand in hand, you only let go for a moment to get your boards situated in your free arms before lacing your fingers together again. This is how you walked down to the beach not too far from your rental.

As you approached the beach together, the warm glow of the sun and the heat radiated over the two of you, leaving a glowy haze of sunshine on both of your skins.

In these moments together, there is nothing that needs to be said. The rustling of the local flora and the crashing sounds of the waves against the rocks and sand fill the comfortable silence as the two of you walk towards the large waves forming on the horizon.

Having lived a bit of a nomadic life before, traveling from competition to competition and from beach to beach, you had never imagined being so enamored with having a companion along for the ride let alone married. But you know you made the right choice when Spencer glances over to you, a wide smile on his lips and a fantastic glimmer in his eye.

You’re about to ask him what is on his mind when he speaks.

“Winner catches first wave?”

You laugh and throw your head back, planting your feet deep into the sand.

“You’re on!”

a/n: i'm not entirely happy with this one, but i like the ending. to be honest, i've been traveling back home for the past few days and 'lost' my groove in the one day i missed prepping one of these blurbs but im hoping to jump back onto the grind of things.

#criminal minds #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fluff #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfic #dr. spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid x you #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid au

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jjsstars · 1 year

Text

pride moodboards : trans fem scott mccall

[he/she scott]

Scott takes in a breath, trying to steady herself, cease the bouncing of her leg that’s only getting worse the more she sits at the kitchen table. She can’t leave for school, he’ll be showing up too early, but by god does Scott want to get out of the house.

She resists the urge to tap her nails against the wood table, they’re the reason he wants to leave so bad. A various selection of pink colors cover each of his nails, he did them this morning and couldn’t decide on just one color from his mothers bin of nail polishes, so he took them all. She thinks they look alright, not as good as Lydia’s or Kira’s, but alright for her first time.

[cut off cause this got longer than I intended]

“Morning Scott.” Melissa greets as she walks to grab a cup of coffee from the pot that Scott made earlier, he hasn’t drank any of it, he has enough energy for seven am.

Melissa must get suspicious of him not answering considering within the time of Scott counting down the seconds to the next minute passing and looking over to the kitchen, Melissa is standing in front of him with a quirked brow. She’s obviously waiting for him to say something. Scott normally does, spews out whatever’s bothering her just because Melissa gives her a look, the look, the talk-to-me-I’m-right-here look that she’s showing now.

“Scott? Something wrong?” Melissa caves after a few more moments of tense silence. Scott shakes her head, stuffing her hands into her hoodie pockets so her mother won’t see the polish. They haven’t talked about anything like this, the most Scott’s gotten out is that he likes the material of women’s shirts more and asked Melissa to buy him some. It’s not a lie, the women’s shirts are softer, but she feels wrong keeping this from Melissa.

“Scott, sweetheart? You look like you’re about to jump up and run off, what’s wrong?” The sound the chair Melissa pulls out makes Scott’s ears ring, everything feels heightened right now, more than usual.

“Nothings wrong.” It doesn’t ease her mother like Scott was hoping for, if anything Melissa looks more concerned.

“Let me see your hands.” It takes a few seconds and Scott’s whole body’s shaking, but she puts her hands in her mothers. His eyes burn as if he’s going to cry and her chest is tight watching Melissa run her thumb over her knuckles.

“I was wondering where all my pinks went.” Melissa says nonchalantly, a small smile on her face when Scott relaxes at the non-explosive reaction.

“You’re not mad?” The words come out thick and Scott has to resist the urge to clear her throat.

“Of course not, I’d never be mad Scott. But maybe next time ask before you borrow them, and try to clean the edges up a bit?” Melissa laughs lightly, picking some of the dried polish off the side of Scott’s finger from where his hands shook too much to keep it all on his nail.

“I’m not mad, but can I ask you something?” She nods for her mother to continue, jaw clenched in hopes she won’t start to cry depending on what Melissa says.

“Does this mean anything?” Oh.

“I- yeah, yeah, and the shirts too. I just- I was going to talk to you, I swear I was! It’s just been so hard and I can never think of what to say or how to explain it or—.” Melissa stops Scott’s frantic ramble.

“You don’t have to explain it all right now, and I’m not trying to pressure you into saying anything you’re not ready to, but I’m here. We can talk more when you get back from school, okay?” Oh she should’ve left two minutes ago. Scott gives a quick okay and goodbye before dashing out the door to get to her bike, now she just has to survive school and her friends seeing her nails.

#pride moodboards #scott mccall #transfem!scott #he/she scott #trans scott mccall #melissa mccall #scott mccall & melissa mccall #teen wolf #jj moodboards

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

“We Go Way Back”

Relationship: Yelena Belova x Reader Warnings: angst, attitude, possible vague Black Widow spoilers Summary: Your and Yelena's date night takes an unexpected turn when a surprise guest shows up at your shared apartment. A/N: So. I saw Black Widow on thursday....i loved SO much.......maybe even found a new comfort character..........and now here we are :) please enjoy

Masterlist

You were just finishing up dinner when two arms snaked around your waist. You giggled, staring down at the sautéed vegetables, as you leaned into your girlfriend’s touch.

"Smells good," she mumbled against your neck. Light kisses were beginning to litter your skin.

You sighed. "Thank you, love," you said, giving everything a final stir before turning off the burners. You went to start carrying items to the table, thinking your girlfriend would let up on her hold on you, but that ended up not being the case.

With a joyous laugh, you playfully scolded her, "Yelena, please," you smiled. "Do you want to eat or not?"

She hummed. Her hands drifted now to your sides and began creeping their way to your hips and thighs. "Depends on what you had in mind."

You let out a faux surprised gasp. "You’re shameless." You shook your head and peeled her hands away from you. She let out a little defeated sigh but you just shot her a playful look and continued with your initial mission of setting the dining table.

Thankfully, this time, Yelena lent a helping hand as opposed to lending her hands…elsewhere. The latter was a common occurrence, especially before date night dinners, such as ones like these. There had been one too many meals you were forced to reheat everything after you let Yelena get carried away.

After the food was placed — a nice spread of local meats, fresh produce, and bakery bread — you began working on getting plates and cutlery. Yelena had taken it upon herself to start breaking out the wine. She brought out two bottles you had just bought that morning based on the recommendation from the butcher. You maybe took cooking and dinners a bit too seriously, hoping everything was right especially when it was for your love.

You set out the cutlery just as Yelena finished pouring two (hefty) glasses of wine. You shot her a smile in thanks and began filling each of your plates. You did have to pat yourself on the back a bit, everything smelled wonderful.

Once you two had full plates and eager stomachs, you sat down and dug in. Yelena immediately let out an exaggerated moan as she practically devoured the meat. You blushed at her enthusiasm.

"This is wonderful, dear," Yelena praised and took a sip of her wine. "Very reminiscent of my momma’s cooking."

Your ears perked up at your girlfriend’s mention of her family. She did that every now and then, slip in random comments about them. You liked trying to explore it but knew the topic was a delicate one. You trod carefully.

"Yeah?" You asked, moving some vegetables around on your plate. "Did she cook a lot?"

Yelena shrugged. "We’d have dinners together, all of us, pretty much every night."

All of us. You had heard so far of a mother and a father but could there be more? Or were you reading too much into it?

Eventually, you settled on, "Family dinners sound very nice." That was enough, you thought. Just safe but still engaged. You eyed Yelena as she continued to eat. She hadn’t noticed you stalled or, well, she probably did, but wasn’t saying anything. You took large gulps of your wine, impulsively.

Just as your liquid courage was getting to you to maybe inquire further about your lover’s family, a hard knock at the front door disrupted the entire dinner. Both of your movements stopped abruptly. You looked between the door and your girlfriend.

"Were you expecting someone?" You asked.

Yelena shook her head. Her fork dropped with a loud clang as she pushed away from the table. In quick, determined strides she collected the gun kept in the side table in the living room. You watched her, quite stunned by her response. You don’t think you ever actually saw any of her guns come into action. When you first moved in, she just explained they were a precaution. You never asked what kind of precaution. You feared you were getting your answer now as Yelena walked to the entryway.

Gun drawn, pointed dead on with the wooden door, she called out, "Who is it?"

"You can put the gun down." Surprisingly, that was a female voice answering your girlfriend’s demand. Your brows furrowed in curiosity. You watched for Yelena’s reaction but she was still so stoic and intense.

Yelena scoffed. "Are you sure?"

Probably a bit foolishly, you decided to chime in. "Love," you said, "is everything okay?"

The female on the other side of the door spoke again, this time with an element of shock in her voice. "Love?"

Yelena let out a dramatic sigh as she relaxed her stance and surrendered her gun, placing it on the little table in the foyer. What seemed to be a bit reluctantly, Yelena opened the door forcefully.

Despite the mystery woman finally being revealed, it answered approximately zero of your questions. There, in the doorway, stood a redhead whose unamusing expression mixed with a slight smugness matched your girlfriend’s. The two just stared at one another, neither dared to move, as if they were challenging one another to try it.

Curiosity finally getting the best of you, you stood from the dining table and slowly made your way to the front door. Your fingers fumbled in nervousness as you stepped with caution.

"Hi, there," you said with a weak smile and gentle wave. The redhead’s eyes flicked over to you only briefly. Still, you continued, "Are you alright? Do you need something?"

"Oh, do I."

Yelena shook her head. "The only thing she needs is to leave."

You turned to your girlfriend, "Who is she?"

"Natasha," the redhead explained. "Me and your love here," she nodded towards Yelena, "we go way back."

You didn’t know how she had the air in her but Yelena let out another ridiculous sigh and stomped away. Like some defeated child, she took her seat once more at the dining table. You had never seen her like this before, so unattached and dismissive. You wracked your brain on how to mend this.

You turned back to Natasha. "Please, come in." Natasha took the offer quite well and gave you a nod of thanks before entering the apartment. You followed her into the dining room.

"We were just starting dinner," you explained as you raced for the kitchen, grabbing Natasha her own set. "Sit, have some food."

Natasha mumbled a "thanks" as you began filling her plate now with food. You even offered up some wine despite Yelena’s weird look she shot you when you reached for it. You ignored her odd behavior and took your seat once more. Somehow, the tension from the situation just got worse. Neither woman was eating now.

You cleared your throat as you prepared to dig into your meal once more. "I hope it’s still warm. If not, I can pop everything in the oven to warm."

No one said anything.

"Alright then…" You shrugged. "If I may, how exactly do you two know each other?"

That was the question that opened the flood gates. Yelena turned to you abruptly. "She’s my sister."

"Sort of," the redhead quickly retorted.

Your jaw went slack. Your appetite completely abandoned you now as your interest was greatly piqued. "Your sister?" You asked and looked between the two women. Well, they didn’t really look alike…

"Not biologically," Yelena explained. "We just kind of…lived together for a while."

"I see," you nodded. You scraped your fork against your plate, awkwardly. "If I may again, what brings you here, Natasha?"

The question certainly made Yelena perk up as she stared down her sister — or, whatever they considered each other. You resisted the urge to grab her hand under the table, unsure of what level of affection she was comfortable showing in front of this woman.

"Some business to attend to." Short and sweet. You felt these two were definitely related on some level.

"This couldn’t have waited until the morning?" Yelena gritted.

Natasha shrugged. "I guess it could’ve but then, apparently, I would’ve missed out on this lovely dinner with you and your… your, what? Girlfriend?" She took a bite of food. "Hmm, tastes close to someone else’s cooking." A shrug. "Anyways, I didn’t know you dated."

"You don’t know a lot of things."

"Okay!" You explained, trying to salvage whatever was left of this civilized conversation. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before turning to your flustered state. "We’re very happy you dropped in, right, love?" You glanced at Yelena. "And you’re more than welcome to stay, Natasha. I’m afraid all we have to offer is the couch if that would be okay."

Natasha glanced behind you at the living room before nodding. "That would be great," she smiled.

***

It wasn’t until you were standing at the kitchen sink cleaning the dishes from dinner that Yelena approached you to talk. Natasha was off getting ready for bed and your girlfriend hopped on this opportunity.

"I’m so sorry," she said as she stood beside you, taking on the role of the dryer in your little dishwasher assembly line. "I-I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry she dropped by, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her—,"

"Love," you shook your head, giving her a sympathetic look, "it’s okay. I’m not really mad you didn’t tell me or that she’s here. From what I gather, it’s a complicated relationship."

Yelena let out an annoyed huff. "You have no idea." A beat. "But, still. I shouldn’t hide these things from you. She was a big part of my life and now you… you’re a big part of my life. It’s only fair."

Your heart warmed at her admission. She could be quite the affectionate one when she wanted to be. Quickly, you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She tried hiding her blush but failed beautifully.

"For what it’s worth, she seems very interesting," you shrugged. "I think she could be fun to get to know. Probably has a few embarrassing stories about you as a child."

Yelena gasped. "Don’t even think about it."

"Too late," you giggled, mentally marking that down as a subject for conversation. A brief silence passed over you two as you finished up with the dishes. Reaching the end of the chore, you said, "So, should I be on the lookout for any other siblings?"

Your girlfriend chuckled. "No," she admitted. "Natasha is it."

You let out a content hum in understanding. "One day we should have them all over."

"Them?"

"Yeah," you nodded, "your whole family. A nice, big family dinner. That could be exciting, right?"

Yelena rolled her eyes. Whether it was playful or not, you couldn’t quite tell. "That’s certainly one way to describe it."

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readerstories · 2 years

Text

Family Reunion - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader 5/5

Finally, it is here, the last chapter of this fic! Hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have, and that you will enjoy this chapter ;) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (AO3)

Warnings/tags: fake dating au, friends to lovers, fluff, flirting, smut, blowjob, handjob

Wordcount: 3931

Summary: A family reunion when you’re 40 is a big deal, and you love your family; but there’s no way you’re going in alone and single.

It had been a while since you had a hangover, but you are well acquainted with how it feels, so when you wake and feel the headache already forming and an uneasy stomach, you groan.

What isn’t familiar however, is the chest that is under you, the chest that you groaned into. Or, it is, but being this close to it is not how you usually start your mornings.

“You okay?” Hotch’s soft voice asks from somewhere above you. You sigh, resisting the urge to grab onto his t-shirt and just stay there, instead sitting up. Not opening your eyes fully just yet to be attacked by the lights sneaking past the curtains, you squint down at him.

“I think so, yeah.” Hotch hands come to rest on your hip, not doing anything besides letting warmth seep through the fabric of your clothes. “Although I must confess that after the dinner last night everything is a little... blurry.”

“I’m not surprised, you got very drunk at some point.” You close your eyes and sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you feel your head remind you of that fact. “And also very cuddly.” You pretend that rubbing your face with two hands is you trying to negate your headache somewhat, instead of a bad attempt at hiding your blush.

“That tends to happen sometimes.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“Well, when I’m out with work, I tend to try not to get that drunk, and the few times it has happened, it has always been out with the girls.” You let your hands drop from you face, getting up and already missing Hotch’s hand on you.

“I’m going to take a shower; see you downstairs for breakfast?” You look down at Hotch, noting how soft he looks. Hair messy, wrinkly shirt, a sliver of skin showing above his hip where his pajama pants have slipped down slightly.

“See you there, I’ll have a coffee ready for you.”

“Thank you.” You grab some fresh clothes, and head for the bathroom, hoping a cold shower can help with your headache and the blush you can feel warming up your cheeks. You just hope Hotch didn’t notice.

---

When you get into the kitchen, Hotch does indeed hand you a coffee, steam rising above the cup. You inhale the smell deeply, taking a small sip, unsure if the somersaults your stomach is doing is because he remembers how you take your coffee or because of your hangover.

“Sleep well?” Your brother asks as he closes the fridge, apple in hand. Your answer is giving him the finger, walking over to sit down at the kitchen table, Hotch following closely behind.

“I take that as a no.” Your brother says as he settles in the chair across from you. You glare at him, leaning against Hotch as he sits down on the chair next to you.

“Honey, do you think any of your lawyer friends could get me off a murder charge?”

“Hey!”

“Don’t think so dear, but I think they could get your sentence reduced since you were clearly guided to do so.”

“Hey!” Your brother tries again, and you just stick out your tongue at him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re one of the people at fault for this killer hangover.”

“Take an aspirin old man.”

“I’m only three years older than you! And I already have, but until it starts working, this is what you get.” Your brother gives you the finger as he gets up, which you return with closed eyes, already wishing you could return to bed and just pull the duvet over your face and stay like that for the rest of the day.

Luckily, you head does improve over time, so the day doesn’t fully go to waste, but you don’t have much energy really, so most of the day is spent on the couches in the living room watching the Golden Girls with Hotch, your mom, one of your uncles, and a few of the kids in the family when they want a few quiet moments.

You don’t talk much with Hotch, but he lets you settle in to his side as you watch the TV, even pulling you close when you get back from the bathroom one time.

Which you are grateful for, since even though last night was a bit blurry at best, you are sure you said some embarrassing stuff, and maybe even some revealing stuff about your feelings, so you’re happy he doesn't feel too awkward to keep up appearances in front of your family still.

Is it just appearances though?

For you at least?

Fuck, you don’t know.

Not that you really want to talk or think about it.

But at some point you almost have to, because even though you don’t remember everything from last night, Hotch most certainly does.

Which he reminds you of as he joins you in the kitchen as you fix some snacks for what has become an unofficial marathon.

“So last night...” Hotch lets the words hang in the air and you grimace.

“Yeah sorry about that, didn’t mean to get that drunk, and certainly didn’t intend to make you have to take care of me.” Hotch waves a hand, leaning against the kitchen counter as you try to not look at him while fixing snacks.

“Not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean then?”

“Last night.... You told me I was special to you. Even during these weird circumstances.” Your cheeks get warmer, but you hum, trying to go for nonchalant.

“That’s true. Even as drunk as I was, I didn’t lie.” Perhaps being a little too truthful, you leave it up to Hotch to interpret what you mean. He doesn’t say anything, but hums, and accepts the bowl of chips you hand him, following you as you go back to the living room. When you sit down in the couch again, he’s the one who leans into you.

---

As the night approaches, Hotch doesn’t bring up the topic again, though he tries to keep close.

Tries being the keyword, as sometime during dinner preparations, you get dragged into actually helping with food as half of the family seems to be distracted and/or too drunk to make food, and Hotch gets dragged into a very serious game of hide and seek.

It’s only when the food is almost ready and you find yourself standing over a grill and watching steaks and burgers that Hotch finds you again.

He hands you a beer, which you only take a small sip of, wise after last night’s mistakes.

“Smells good.”

“Grandpa’s spice mix never goes wrong.” Hotch hums. “Hey, wanna see something cool?”

“Sure.” You grin, thrusting your spatula under one of the burger patties, throwing it up int the air. It spins a few times, landing back on your spatula, and you flip it over, the hiss of the raw side of the meat hitting the grill.

“Impressive.” Hotch comments and you grin, about to say something, but your brother interrupts you.

“If you’re done impressing your boyfriend, some of us would like to eat.”

“It will still be a few minutes, unless you want to eat raw meat you brute.” Hotch unsuccessfully tries to hide a grin behind a sip of his own beer as you start to bicker with your brother.

---

Stomach full from dinner, you offer yourself to do some cleanup, but you are promptly turned away, your father insisting that he has all the help he needs, so you can just relax since this is your last day before you return to normal life.

Ah, yes, normal. You pretend that the thought of it doesn’t make your heart clench, and go to locate Hotch instead.

You find him sitting on what you have come to think of as your bench.

Which is dangerous.

It has only been three days, and it’s all pretend.

Well, it was supposed to be, you try to remind yourself as you sit down next to Hotch, settling into his side with almost practiced ease. He lets you, quickly squeezing your shoulder before resting his arm on the back of the bench, the other resting in his lap. You glance at him, noting that he seems to be watching the kids running around on the lawn, playing what seems to be a very aggressive round of tag.

“How are you feeling?” You ask, a little curious about his mood.

“Full. The food was really good.” He glances away from the kids for a few seconds to smile down at you, before his focus turns back to them.

“Always is when my family has something to do with it. I thought you would have learned that by now.” He hums, seeming to be lost in thoughts somewhere.

“It’s been nice. Good even. They’re all such kind people, I see where you got it from.” That warms your heart to hear.

“Thank you.”

“And a little loud.”

“Hey!” You poke his ribs with a finger at the little jab, noting the small grin on his face. It falters slightly as he take a deep breath.

“You know, I’ve been thinking....” You don’t say anything, letting the silence linger as Hotch tries to find the words he needs to say. Which, it’s rare for him, as he usually is confident man that knows what to say more often than not.

“I’ve seen how good you are with your nephew and nieces, and I would actually like for you to meet Jack more often. If you would like that of course.” You smile at him, knowing how close Hotch holds Jack to his heart.

“I would love that. If you think he would like me that is.” Hotch snorts, moving his attention to you fully now.

“You’re kidding right? He already adores you. After the time you told him about the world's fastest car, he wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks. He keeps asking for me to bring the team over, but also often just you.” A pause. “And I would like to bring you over sometimes too.” You open your mouth, but don’t say anything as the meaning of those words hit you. Or, at least what you think is the meaning.

“Hotch?”

“Mhm?”

“Is this you asking me out on a date?”

“Technically I think we are a bit past just that stage because of this whole thing,” He gestures around the both of you, “But yes.”

Silence, his eyes fluttering all over your face as he tries to gauge your reaction, and then you take his face in your hands and do what you have wanted to do for days (actually longer if you’re being truthful).

You kiss him.

Right on the lips.

Just a quick peck before leaning back.

“I would love to.” Hotch smiles, and you can’t help yourself, leaning in to kiss him again. One of his hands comes to rest over yours, the other landing on your hip.

He’s so warm, so soft, so tempting, so him. And though you can feel three words bubbling up in your chest, you don’t let them out in the air just yet, instead trying to convey it in the way you kiss him.

Lips against lips, sliding against each other, a barely there touch of his tongue against your lips.

However, before you can get much further than that, the thought of pulling Hotch into your lap already forming in the back of your mind, someone clears their throat.

“You know you have a room right?” Your sister teases, and you roll your eyes at her.

---

That night, when you get into bed, the air feels different. A lot feels different actually. Because now, you can unabashedly cuddle close to Hotch, no, Aaron, without worrying what he will think. Because you know what he will think, and you want him to.

You keep stealing kisses as you get ready for bed, and when you’re finally in bed, the kissing doesn’t really stop.

However, you seem to come to an unspoken agreement that nothing else will happen tonight, as little by little, the kisses slow down, and there is more time between each one.

You can almost feel your chest burst with how happy you feel, letting your fingers trace over Aaron’s chest, tracing unknown patterns over the cotton of his shirt.

He yawns, pulling you closer with a last kiss on your forehead, tucking you under his chin. You can’t help but smile into his chest as you close your eyes and slip into an easy sleep.

---

Next morning, you’re not the first to wake.

When you open your eyes, you’re met with warm brown eyes, which crinkles as he smile when you let out a yawn and stretch.

“Good morning sunshine.”

“Mhm, good morning to you too.” You move forward to give what you intend to be a quick kiss, but Aaron is quick to deepen it. You hum into the kiss, one of your hands coming to rest on his hip.

You can feel him smile, and seconds he moves the two of you so he is laying on his back with you on top. You break the kiss so you can lean back and look at him, and wow, fuck, does he looks good.

Messy hair, warm smile, rumpled pajamas clinging tight, his shirt riding up a little so you can see a little of his soft stomach.

He looks so good, so sexy, so yours, so you just have to lean down to kiss him again. His hands rests along your back, your own finding their way to his hair.

He’s an excellent kisser, and with the warmth of his hands ever so slightly pushing down on his back, you can feel yourself turn to putty in his hands.

Not wanting it to go quite that far just yet, you break the kiss once more, yet again leaning back.

“You’re so tempting.” Aaron’s grin is soft, but at the same time pleased with himself, which is going to make your mind run a hundred miles per hour if you’re not careful.

“I am?”

“Yes, very much so.” This time you manage to keep the kiss short, getting out of bed and stretching, almost feeling Aaron‘s gaze burn a hole into the back of your sleeping shirt. “We should pack.” All you get in response is a hum, and when you turn around you clearly catch him just looking at your ass.

“Stop looking at my ass.”

“Well, can’t help it, you’re distracting too.” Aaron says as he gets out of bed, giving you a peck on the cheek. “I’m going to take a quick shower, then I’ll pack everything.”

“I can pack my own things.”

“I know, but I feel like spoiling you.” He rummages around his bag for some clean clothes.

“Careful, or I might get used to it.”

“Don’t, special vacations only.” He jokes, winking as he disappears in the direction of the bathroom. You roll your eyes at his back and huff, but can’t help the small smile that settles on your face as you find your own clean clothes to change into.

---

When Aaron comes downstairs later, you hand him a coffee and give him a quick peck.

“Ready to leave already?” Your father asks where he’s cooking some bacon strips and eggs. You nod, padding over to steal one of the finished strips, snacking on it.

“It’s not that long until our flight leaves pa. And remember, you promised to drive us there.” He waves his spatula at you as you swipe another strip that you hand to Aaron.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m almost finished here if someone doesn’t keep stealing food.” You grin and finish the bacon in your hand.

----

The journey home feels like it takes forever.

Not that it actually does, it goes perfectly smooth even.

There is almost no traffic on the way to the airport, your father dropping you off with you promising to call more often. The flight leaves on time, not even a minute delay. Neither you or Aaron notice, too busy thinking about getting home.

Not that you keep yourself back from giving each other small kisses when you can, although you try to keep them down somewhat. There had been some truth in you stating that you should play into both of you being private people when the discussion of your “fake” relationship had happened. And planes and airports are hardly private.

When you land, you get your bags as quick as you can, (not quick enough in your opinion), and make your way to the long term parking where your car is.

You drive to his apartment since that is the closest, and as soon as he has unlocked the door and both of you go inside, you shut the door behind you, grab him where he is half turned towards you, and pull him into a kiss.

Aaron is quick to return it, pushing forwards so you’re pressed against the door with a thunk.

You smile into the kiss, biting down on his bottom lip as your hands wander to start untucking his shirt.

“Bedroom?” Is what he says as he breaks the kiss, and you just nod as an answer before kissing him again.

He has to lead to the bedroom, since though you had been to his place a few times before, this was a new place for you. Not that you mind, getting pulled by your belt loops towards your destination is the hottest thing you have experienced in a while.

Wow, you’re glad you’re not single anymore.

Finally making it into the bedroom with only some minor stumbling, you only stop kissing Aaron so you can push him down on the bed.

He looks like a good damn snack. And you think he is thinking something similar as you, if the hungry look in his eyes is anything to go by.

“I think we’re wearing too many clothes.” You say as you begin to strip, and he’s quick to follow, his own clothes tossed away from him. You want to strip him yourself too, but that can come next time.

Or later.

You’re not too picky on the when and have a lot you want to do now.

You barely take time to take in the sight of him before you join Aaron on the bed, but again, that can come later. Now you just want to get your mouth on him.

You start with his lips, but quickly make your way down his neck as you drape yourself over him, feeling his hard cock press against your own.

“How are you with hickeys and biting?” You look up at him through your lashes, following the motion of his tongue licking his lips.

“Good as long as it’s not visible when wearing a t-shirt.” You hoped for an answer like that.

“Good, cause I can get a bit possessive.” You kiss the skin right above one nipple, and then bite down. He groans, hands flying to your hair.

“Ah, didn’t know that.” You hum, soothing the bite with your tongue.

“Well, there’s much more to learn.” You grin up at him, which he returns, eyes swimming with desire. He tries to tug at your hair to get you up, but instead you go the other way, making your way down his sternum and stomach.

Aaron lets out a little gasp when you find ticklish spots, but mostly he moans and groans as you shuffle downwards, settling when your mouth hovers above his cock.

“Feel free to pull my hair.” You say before diving down to lick a stripe from the bottom of his cock to the top. Aaron moans, and you got to say that you love how vocal he is as you take his cock into your mouth.

He’s normally not one to be loud, so this, this you are salivating in.

The moans, groans, and out of breath mutterings of you name that falls from his lips makes you want to just hear more and more, so you don’t keep yourself back, sucking him down and letting your tongue dance over him when you have to come up as not to choke yourself on his cock.

He is warm in your mouth and the hands in your hair pushes and tugs, not really guiding you, but instead offering another sensation to these wonderful moments.

You push his legs even more open as you let your mouth sink as far down on him as you can, curling your arms around thighs. You let out a deep breath that fans over his skin, making his stomach tighten as you grab his thighs and start to move up and down in a bit of an unsteady rhythm.

Your own cock is trapped beneath you, the little friction you can get as you move ever so slightly against the bed far from enough, but you pay it no mind, too preoccupied with making Aaron feel good and listening to the noises he makes, trying out different things to hear what responses he gives.

“I’m close, fuck, I’m close.” He mutters, out of breath and slightly frantic. You open your eyes, looking up at him with his cock resting on your tongue.

He looks fantastic. Wet lips, blown pupils, chest rising and falling in fast breaths.

You don’t give a verbal answer, instead just starting to move once more, this time as fast as you can muster. He swears, loudly, tugging on your hair as he spills himself in your mouth.

You swallow around him, taking every ounce he can give you, letting him fall out of your mouth and licking up what you could not swallow.

He has let go of your hair to let his arms rest over his eyes, catching his breath as you rest your head against his thigh.

It takes a few moments and a gentle nibble on his skin from you, and then he moves his arms so he can tug you up.

He seems to pay no mind to the taste of himself in your mouth, kissing you hard as he spins you on your back, leaning over you.

A hand finds its way to your cock, circling around it, finding plenty of precum there. He thumbs your tip, making electricity shoot up your spine as you moan into the kiss.

He’s so warm and solid pressed into your side, and his slightly rough and calloused hand against your cock feels so wonderful that even with very little stimulation from earlier, it doesn’t take long for you to come, your cum covering your stomach and Aaron‘s hand.

You break the kiss to moan as you shudder apart against him.

Now it’s you who has to catch your breath, but you don’t close your eyes or move your attention away from Aaron at all, instead letting your eye wander all over him.

His hair is a mess, his lips are slightly swollen and wet from you kissing him, and there’s bruises forming several places on his skin.

He looks absolutely fucked out, and you love it.

“Where are your towels?”

“Hold on, I’ll get one.” He leans over to give you a quick peck and stand up, leaving you to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, and the knowledge that you made him make a lot of glorious noises both before and as he came.

And the knowledge that you get to do it again.

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bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

— genshin boys as your late night study buddy

ೃ ft. childe, diluc, kaeya, zhongli, xiao and albedo x gn! reader

ೃ 200-299 words per character! (they are your bfs in this! bc MAN do i desperately want one of the genshin boys to cram school works with and shower me with luv and affection.) ♡

ೃ tags: college au, modern au, and lots of fluff.

ೃ thank you so so much for 1k notes on my very first batch of genshin hcs! i appreciate all the luv it received and i can never thank all of you enough 🥺 i’ll be making a genshin masterlist soon to compile all of my current and future works so pls stay tuned for that!

ೃ if you want to be a part of my taglist, answer this form! ♡

ZHONGLI:

– Zhongli would be a very chill study partner. He will always keep his cool and focus, never letting his attention stray away from less trivial things. If he can focus, he’ll focus. There’s always this sense of comfort surrounding him that brightens up your mood and productivity. The both of you are sat in this long table, papers, books, and cute matching pencils are sprawled about. You lean your head on his shoulder, as he serenades you with his deep and butter voice, explaining all the formulas to you. Being able to study in peace and quiet with him is always a blissful experience. He never fails to brew you green tea (as it helps the brain function) even if that meant going down to the kitchen at 2 in the morning. He always brings a small humidifier and some essential oils with him that can help brighten up the study mood and that emits a wafting vanilla pinecone scent to keep you happy. (He’s just fancy like that.) When he doesn’t understand the concepts right away, he’d turn to you, his sharp amber eyes gazing at yours with nothing but innocent and love, and asks: “(Y/N)... what reference is this supposed to be? pepe the frog? kermit the frog? here come dat boi? aren’t they all just amphibians? what are the differences between them? I am very intrigued.”

CHILDE:

– Childe loves a challenge. An academic challenge. He loves the thrill of finishing school works the night before the deadline, he loves studying for a pop quiz twenty minutes before the bell rings, and most importantly, he loves to pretend he doesn’t know how to solve point a to point b if that means getting to spend time with you as you tutor him on how to do so. He’s at the top of the class, He’s popular and friendly, He’s the captain of the Archery Team, and one of the vice council members of the Fatui Club. But, no other title will ever come close to being your study buddy. You and Childe always chill on the bed whenever you study. Especially when the both of you have the sudden urge to just laze around. Well, it is the wee hours of the night, so just lounging around and trying to resist the urge of sleep is pretty understandable. Sometimes, the two of you would take power naps in between study sessions. This meant cuddle times! Childe will always cuddle with you, (he’s the big spoon and you are the smol spoon) and often times you would be immersed into your textbook while he’s scrolling through his phone and looking for some of the current and popular memes. He’d poke you on the cheek and show you what he’s found. It was quite annoying sometimes and you would reprimand him for it, but it never fails to make you laugh. You jokingly suggested one time that the two of you sneak in the library after closing hours, and your chaotic boyfriend turns to you with the biggest smirk plastered on his face. “Let’s do it baby. I know the law.”

DILUC:

–You and Diluc are the cutest pair of night owls. So, studying late at night is never a problem with him because with the help of each other, the both of you are unstoppable. An actual power couple. Batman and his love interest who? I only know (Y/N) and Diluc. Mondstadt University should be giving you the title of #NoSleepGang for the “Campus Cuties” awards because the two of you are able to ace every test still despite lack of sleep. You and Diluc are very very organized. The both of you own matching couple planners (that the both of you had gifted to each for Christmas) and have your entire study schedule planned out already. Since the two of you prefer to study at night, your dates are usually done during the day. Which meant never having to worry about the upcoming finals whilst you’re at a cute little café with him. The both of you have respective desks whenever you study together, but you never fail to gaze at your crimson-haired boyfriend with the cutest pout and biggest puppy eyes. He always gives in and next thing you know, your swivel chairs are practically glued next to each other and the both of you are cuddling in your seats. One thing that Diluc never fails to do is pamper you with comfort food or little gifts that you love after a long and tiring week of hell (aka exams) It’s such a sweet gesture and the blissful relationship that you have can’t get any better than this.

“I got you some boba and that necklace from Pandora that you’ve always wanted. I-I’m so proud of you (Y/N). You did great, my love.”

KAEYA:

- You are the Lawful Good to Kaeya’s Chaotic Evil. Kaeya is always tempted to ask for answers from your professors. He’s quite the teacher’s pet, but with good intentions. That’s just how he rolls. Every time he jokes about going to the faculty to help out and the answer sheets are just out in the open, waiting to be snatched, you always glare at at him and punch him softly on the arm, every time he tries to bring up the idea. To which he would always reply with, “I’m kidding. Just kidding my love.” You and Kaeya have amazing study hacks. He is always able to find a movie that is somewhat related to the topics that the both of you are currently studying about. For example, when the topic was an introduction to different branches of science, Kaeya chose Big Hero 6 as the “Educational Movie Of the Day.” He is always able to find something fun and informative for the both of you to watch. Well, Kaeya does find fun and interest in everything. Another effective strategy that both of you do is every time you or him get an answer right, you reward each other with either a kiss on the cheek or a bear hug. Both of these affectionate gestures give you butterflies in your stomach anyway, so it doesn’t matter which is which. With the ideas that Kaeya constantly makes up every single day of your study sessions, there’s a high chance that you’ll never fluke a test ever again.

“Oh. That’s pretty cool of you (Y/N). You got 30 correct answers! If we count everything, so I basically gave you 15 forehead kisses and 15 bear hugs. Congrats! I know we’re going to ace our finals!”

XIAO:

– Xiao is extremely intelligent and talented in a myriad of things. However, he lacks self-confidence. You’ve sworn to your boyfriend that you’d help him gain confidence in his academic abilities. Which is why you became study buddies in the first place. It served as dates with him too! Although he stubbornly refused at first, his reasons being that he can do things by himself and he doesn’t need any help. You continued to encourage him that this was going to help the both of you and it was a way for the two of you to bond, and Xiao hesistantly agreed right after. As the captain of the soccer team, “The Liyue Adepti”, The only free time that Xiao has was during the evening which is the reason for your scheduled late night studies with him. This brought so much more intimate and sweet moments with him though! It meant sleepovers with him, midnight snack runs, and casual early morning strolls in the park. It became sort of a routine. Your hand interlaced with his, the crisp morning air, the little chirpings birds, and the tranquil swaying of the trees brought so much comfort to the both of you. Xiao would be the type of student to not speak up unless he’s called. Even if he knows the answer. The both of you sit on some floor pillows whenever you would study. So, whilst you read aloud, Xiao always hugs you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t deserve the patience and love you give me, (Y/N). I am eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I hope you know, that I’ll always be here for you.”

ALBEDO:

- Being the university’s library assistant has it’s perks. Access to infinite knowledge, quiet solitude within the library walls, and being able to hang out with your boyfriend. It was truly a perfect deal. After classes, Albedo would be heading straight over to the library to do his work. You’d meet him there and wait until he gets his work done, and then the two of you head home together or have dinner. Albedo likes to plan things in advance. He’s quite busy, being a part of university’s alchemist group and as a library assistant, but, he will always study with you. He even brings Klee with him at times too! She’s always an energetic and cute addition, + she tattles on and on about how in love Albedo is with you and how he would never shut up about you at home. Albedo puts a lot of effort into creating review materials for the both of you. He makes very intricate drawings of modules, dioramas of certain science models, and has all the formulas memorized for him to list down. He’s a genius after all, and although you’ve constantly told him time and time again that he doesn’t have to make a review paper specifically catered to you, he still insists. He always gifts you one whenever it’s exam week (he adds extra detail to them during your finals) The cutest thing about these papers are scribbled about in all of the pages. The cutest doodles of the two of you with hearts and flowers drawn all over. Albedo + (Y/N) is even written in the last page, along with a heartfelt message:

“I put all my faith and belief in you, (Y/N). I know you can do this. I’m proud of everything you’ve reached so far, my beloved. and I know you’ll reach greater heights. Let’s continue to excel and thrive together. I can’t wait to spend the rest of this journey with you.”

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gotnofucks · 3 years

Text

Meet the Parents

Based on the request: Imagine Peter Parker trying to ask Steve and Bucky if it’s okay to take their daughter on a date. He would be shaking in his boots.

Pairing: Stucky x Reader, Peter x Reader

Summary: You are daddies’ little girl, and Peter wants to take you out.

Words: 1.2k

Warning: incest (kinda? And only implied), daddy kink, 18+ ONLY.

A/N: It was a Peter request, trust me to turn it into Stucky

He had May choose him an outfit. Something that doesn’t scream trying too hard, but not something too lousy either. Peter was head over hells for you. Ever since you’d sat by him in Physics class, he knew he’d never be the same again. There was this instant connection, this electricity that cackled down his spine when you laughed with him.

You’d been best friends for a while, but now Peter wanted to be more. He wanted to take you out to coffee where you could share a dessert and hold hands. He wanted to take you dancing and put his coat over you when you got cold. He wanted to walk you to your door with a kiss of promise to pick you up in the morning. He wanted his phone’s wallpaper to be a picture of you both cuddling.

But there was this one obstacle that made his palms sweat. Peter knew you were very close to your dads, he’d seen them coming to the college campus to pick you up. You were well into your 20s and yet they doted over you like you were 5. Anytime Peter thought he’d ask you out, an image of Steve and Bucky towering over him made his heart beat faster.

After months of deliberation and waiting, he’d finally decided to do it. He was wearing his best outfit, he got flowers and had given himself a pep talk in front of the mirror. He’s going to drive to your home, ask your dads if he can take out their little girl and be a gentleman.

He may have stood outside the door for few minutes too much, but he finally rang the bell. The door opened so fast he wondered if the other person was listening in, waiting. Piercing blue eyes, like those that Zeus must have when he’s about to rain hell on someone, fixed on him.

“Parker” Bucky said, an eyebrow raised in amusement as Peter shuffled.

“Mr. Barnes” He greeted, offering him a hand that Bucky smirked at before taking in his own. Peter had to suppress a wince at the firm grip, and he resisted the urge to massage his fingers after he let go. Bucky beckoned him inside and Peter followed, marveling at the beautiful house. He smiled at your pictures on the wall, mostly smiling with your dads on either side of you.

“You are two minutes late.” Said a voice that broke Peter away from staring at your pictures. Steve was standing against the table, hands on his waist. When he stood like this, shoulder to shoulder with his husband who was just as big, Peter was reminded of how you said they’d been in army and right now, he felt like the enemy.

“Mr. Rogers, sir.” Peter said, shaking Steve’s hand which left his already bruised hand aching even worse.

“Dad, please. Stop.” You said, coming down from the stairs. You looked gorgeous, even though you’d dressed only casually for the movies. It was a bit ridiculous to be doing this at this age, but Peter knew to win you over, he needed to get on you fathers’ good side.

“A man who can’t be on time cannot be trusted.” Steve said and Peter looked down, cursing himself for lingering on the doorway too long. You huffed, smacking Steve on his chest with a grumbled ‘be nice’ that had Peter smiling. He shyly gave you the flowers he got and you took them, taking a huge whiff.

“I’m gonna put them in a vase and then we’ll leave.” You said, shooting a look at Steve and Bucky who were glaring a hole in Peter’s head.

“So, what are your intensions towards our girl?” Steve asked, looking very much the Captain he was.

“Entirely honorable sir.” Peter promised, wiping his hands on his jeans. “We’re going to movies and then dinner.”

Bucky chuckled sarcastically, walking around Peter as if examining him.

“We know what happens in a dark movie hall. You gonna leave a seat in the middle.” Bucky ordered and Peter opened his mouth in shock. He could hear your angry shouting from the kitchen from where you appeared with a scrunched nose.

“Dads, enough. Ease up.” You snap, glowering at their hazing. Steve rolled his eyes, sharing an exasperated look with Bucky as if you were the one being ridiculous. When you didn’t budge, they sighed, relaxing their arms.

“You gonna bring her back before 11. She doesn’t like her food too spicy and she hates drinking –”

“– Right enough, we’re going. I can tell my preferences for myself, thank you very much. Come, Peter.” You hastily said, cutting off Bucky. Peter nodded, barely having time to say goodbye to your dad as you ushered him towards the front door.

“Should I shake their hand?” Peter whispered when you were almost out.

“Do you want them to break your hand? Hurry!” You hiss back. You were right behind him, scurrying to his car when the clearing of a throat stopped you. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before looking over your shoulder to see Bucky and Steve with your jacket.

“You wanna catch a cold?” Steve asked, holding it out. Peter was sitting in his car, looking as you sheepishly smiled and stepped back inside, letting Steve slip the jacket over you. Bucky zipped it up for you, holding your chin with his thumb and finger gently.

“You call me the moment you think something is going wrong. He touches you anyway you don’t want him to, I’ll show up and beat his ass.” He assured you and you hugged him, burying your head in his chest and smelling his soothing scent.

“I know how to protect myself. You got nothing to worry about, I am your baby girl.” You mumbled and Bucky held you tighter.

“Damn right you are our baby girl” He said, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Sweetie” Steve said, pulling you away from Bucky and into him. “You love your daddies, don’t you?”

You looked into his blue eyes, biting your lip at the authority and love there.

“Yes daddy, I love you both. This is a one time thing, I promise.” You said and felt them both relax. They really could deny you nothing, not even some other dick.

“He can never give you what we can.” Bucky said sulkily. He had a more difficult time coming around to this idea than Steve did, and you took his hand in yours, gently squeezing.

“I know daddy, I just wanna try something else. But I’ll always come home to you. You both are my life.” You told him and he squeezed your hand in return.

“We’ll keep the bed warm for you. It won’t feel the same.”

You almost wanted to cancel the date, but Peter was so sweet. And you needed a few hours away from both of them and their company. Every night you’d spent in their arms and under them in their bed, you have been in heaven. You just needed a night away where you could be a normal girl who wasn’t sleeping with her adopted fathers.

“A few hours, and I’ll be yours again.” You said softly and Steve stroked your cheek.

“You’ll always be ours” He corrected, and you turned your back to them and joined Peter in his car.

Peter glanced at you as you buckled your belt, nervously taking your hand in his after he started the car.

“They really love you” He commented, sneaking soft looks at you as he drove.

“Yes, they really do.” You agreed, watching the landscape pass you.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #peter parker x reader #peter x reader

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leoneliterary · 3 years

Note

How would the ROs react to an “oh no there’s only one bed what will we ever do?” scenario?

So this is one of the first asks I received and I was just getting my footing on how to answer asks! To the dear anon who sent it, sorry it took so long, and I'll try to make it worth the wait. Also something very similar to this might appear in the story, except with more detail, so I guess this is also like a sneak peak!

Merikh:

He drags his hand down his face, not even looking at the innkeeper as he tosses some coin to the man. "We're going to need two rooms." Scrunching his nose up at the smell coming from his clothes, he quickly adds, "And access to the baths." The innkeeper gives a gracious smile, and shouts to have baths drawn, but hands back half of the money. "My lord," he starts out hesitantly, "It is our humble honor to offer you lodging, however you came during the Festival of Brishkar." He shakes his head and finishes, "All the other rooms are full of devotees, I can only offer you one." Merikh rubs his face again roughly, before glancing quickly at you. Looking at you for a moment he shakes his head and picks up his coin. "Never mind then, we'll seek other lodging." He moves to walk out the door but you catch his arm. "It'll surely be the case no matter what inn we go to, or they might not even have one room available." the innkeeper nods vigorously in agreement with you. With a deep sigh Merikh places his coin down again and the innkeeper giddily gets up to show you both to your room. Outside the door he hands Merikh the key "You were right anyway" he says begrudgingly, already turning the key, "It'd be more trouble than it's worth to try to find another place, especially when we need to stay out of sight tonight." What you see when the lock clicks and the door opens stops you both in your tracks. A modest room, with a hearth and even some bread and cheese on the table. One bed. Two bath tubs sitting side by side, steaming behind a gauzy partition. Merikh immediately turns to head back out of the door. "This is ridiculous." He's seething and actually trying to shut the door, as if something in the room was trying to pursue him. You stop him again. "Look my lord, the only place that would likely have a bed for us this late would be a brothel, and believe me, you spending the night there would definitely get our whereabouts known." His shoulders slump and he knows you're right. "Besides," you add with a wry smile, "The water is already hot." Bristling at this, he begins to walk down the hall and back downstairs, he calls out over his shoulder, "Enjoy your bath, I'll enjoy a drink before I come back up.", irritation clear in his voice. He knows he won't drink however, instead he sits in a corner in the common area, water in hand, knowing that the most foolish thing he could do would be to be drunk in the same bed with you. Liquor would only make the already troublesome images in his head worse. The steam rising from the tub, instead rising from your skin. The idea of you tangled in sheets, still bare from your bath. He slaps the sides of his face and stays down there, staring into his cup. When he finally returns, it looks like you've kept a lamp lit for him but the bath water is cold. It's exactly what he needs. He sits at the edge of the bed, listening to the soft sounds of you breathing before he falls asleep just like that. Sitting up, hunched over, gripping the sides of the bed.

Desma:

She gives a big stretch, and sniffs the fabric of her clothing before wrinkling her face dramatically. "Ugh, we smell!" Giving her a smack on the shoulder you cry out in mock indignation. "Why are you saying we when you just sniffed yourself?" She let's out a snort before calling out loudly to the innkeeper she shouts, "You throw in baths with the room, or am I to wash myself in a tankard?" The innkeeper gives a gracious smile, and shouts to have baths drawn. With a wink he tosses Desma a key which she dangles at you and you both begin to head upstairs. Desma roles her shoulders, giving you a smile as you walk up the steps. "How lucky are we right? Finding a room during the Brishkar festival!" You nod in agreement, adding while Desma turns the key, "Looks like a pretty decent place to stay out of sight too." When the lock clicks and the door eases open and you step in, what you see gives you both pause. Like you said, it's a decent place. A modest room, with a hearth and even some bread on the table. One bed. Two bath tubs sitting side by side, steaming behind a gauzy partition. Desma turns to you with a wide smile. "And they even included some bread!" Giddy with excitement she walks in to inspect the room. "Ah but they forgot the cheese! No worries, you hop in the tub and I'll go get us some from the kitchen!" With that she practically prances out the door, leaving you to your bath. As soon as the door closes behind her, she slumps against the wall taking deep breaths. It is fine. It is fine. It is fine. The words reverberate in her head like a prayer. She feels like slapping herself. It's not like it'll be the first time you shared a room together. Hell, it won't even be the first time your shared a bed together. But she knows that things are different now. At least for her. She wants you in her bed. She wants to cover you in kisses just so that you know that you're as much her's as she's yours. But you aren't, and she can't. She actually does get the cheese, and when she comes back you're in bed waiting for her. She chats with you from the bath as you eat the bread with the cheese she brought and everything is fine. And she smiles wide, maybe too hard when she joins you in bed and extinguishes the lamp. As you settle close to her, her eyes close but sleep doesn't come. Lying next to you, she can't hold you, at least not the way she wants to. Looking at you, sleeping soundly, she let's out a bitter chuckle. "I'm a fool."

Laverna:

She holds out a coin pouch to the innkeeper. "We are both in need of a room." she says quietly. The innkeeper grins and reaches out for the pouch, but Laverna withdraws her hand quickly and raises her eyebrows at him. "We are also in need of your discretion."

"Of course my lady, you'll hear nothing from this servant." With a knowing smile he takes the coin purse before turning to look you up and down. "I'll also call for baths to be drawn."

It's only a brief wait before he returns with a key. You take it from his hands and lead the way upstairs.

Laverna shrugs her hood off as you both reach the door, letting out a sigh of relief when you turn the key. "Thank heavens they had a room!" her relief is short lived and a wave of worry flits across her face. "Do you think I gave him enough to keep him quiet? What if he recognized me? I'll go pay him a little bit more!"

She moves to head back down stairs but you grab her cloak, keeping her from moving forward. "Easy now, he'll get suspicious if you keep throwing money at him." She lets out a small laugh and looks down as you continue. Grabbing the other side of her cloak as well to pull her a little bit closer, you give her a teasing smile, before giving her hood a tug. "Between this and the fact that I'm sure you aren't the only lady having a dalliance with someone below your station on the night of the Brishkar festival, he probably won't pay us a second thought."

At that she takes in a sharp breath of air and rushes past you and heads inside the room. With a laugh and a shake of your head, you follow her in.

What you see gives you both pause. The room is immaculate, clearly used to having wealthy guests, with soft cushions in front of a large hearth and even a platter stacked with bread, cheese and fruit. Two bath tubs sit side by side, steaming behind a gauzy partition.

And one bed. You turn to look at Laverna, who just stands there. She stares at the bed, mouth slightly parted, lost in thought. Finally she breaks the silence.

Eyes boring holes in the floor, she fiddles with the edge of her cloak before asking, "Would you like to bathe first?" Before you can answer, she hurries out, "Actually, you can bathe, I do not need to! In fact I'm tired, I'll see you in bed!"

With that she crosses the room and practically dives into the bed and nestles deeply under the covers.

Her heart pounds in embarrassment, but there is also the faint thud of hope. She hides her face further under the covers as she hears you slip into the water.

What if we were lovers? She thinks and has to resist the urge to slap herself. But the damage is done. Under the covers she thinks about how things would be if the circumstances were different. If she were to join you in the bath or to bed you. If her hands could trace your body or if she could feel your skin on hers underneath the covers.

She stiffens as you get into bed and softly whisper goodnight to her.

Like a lover. Echos in her head until she can hear your breaths slow to the rhythm of sleep. She hesitantly touches your hand. "Goodnight." she whispers.

Sutek:

"I need a room. Quickly." The innkeeper hurries to hand Sutek a key with shaking hands, which he quickly takes. Grabbing your arm he tugs you up the stairs.

"Easy!" you shout, wincing at the grip on your arm. "It's not like I'm going to run! Neither of us will benefit from being seen tonight."

He let's out a grunt and looks at you with a raised brow, clearly not believing you. Nevertheless, he releases his hold on you, instead turning to unlock the door to the room. When the lock clicks and the door eases open he begins to walk in but stops short, causing you to bump into him. It's a decent place. A modest room, with a hearth and even some bread on the table. One bed. Two bath tubs sitting side by side, steaming behind a gauzy partition. "How generous! Bread and a bath!" You keep your voice light, trying to fend off the growing tension in the room.

Shoulders tense, he glares at the bed and then throws an equally fierce look at the two tubs. He lets out a bone rattling sigh before pulling you into the room and locking the door behind you both. He checks the room. The water in the tub, under the bed, even cautiously looking out of the only window of the room. “If you want to bathe, you can.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and he knows you’re probably surprised. He is too.

“Like you said, neither of us wants to be seen tonight.” He grips the dagger tied in his sash, watching as your eyes flicker from it back to his face, eyebrows still raised. “I don’t think you’ll run.”

With that he turns his back to you and sits on a cushion in front of the fire.

A mistake.

He waits to hear your footfalls, or feel the impact of you slamming into him, instead he hears the rustling of clothing and the slosh of water as you settle into the tub.

Are you actually...bathing?

Shocked he alternates between staring into the fire and out of the window, back firmly towards you. He stiffens when he hears you climb into bed.

Could you really be prepared to sleep in the same room as him?

The sound of your breathing evening out causes him to turn toward you incredulously. There you are, resting peacefully. He doesn’t move, the room silent except for the crackling of the fire and your breathing.

He could join you.

He could be close to you, even if it’s just for the night.

He dwells in these thoughts from his place in front of the fire for the rest of the night.

Sarai:

"We are both in need of a room." she says firmly. The innkeeper shakes his head, his hands raised.

"Dear lady, I would, but we are full."

Sarai narrows her eyes and removes her earrings. The weight of their gold landing on the counter with a thud. She crosses her arms.

"How about now?"

"Of course my lady, whatever you request of this servant." With a knowing smile he takes the coin purse before turning to look you up and down. "I'll also call for baths to be drawn."

It's only a brief wait before he returns with a key. You take it from his hands and lead the way upstairs.

"I loathe price gouging." She scowls as you both head up the stairs.

You laugh and nod, "Oh he could probably smell the money on you, and you throwing jewelry at him didn't help!"

She scoffs but you can see the hint of a smile.

You open the door for her, but what you see gives you both pause. The room is immaculate, clearly used to having wealthy guests, with soft cushions in front of a large hearth and even a platter stacked with bread, cheese and fruit. Two bath tubs sit side by side, steaming behind a gauzy partition.

And one bed. You turn to look at Sarai. She blinks, then blinks again before heading over to the baths.

"Thank the heavens that the water is still hot." She wrinkles her nose at you. "Because we both need a bath."

She pulls you over to the tubs and doesn't look at you when she says, "I think we can both trust our eyes not to wander."

But once in the tub she immediately regrets her bravado. There you are. You and your body, just an arm's length away from her, yet she can't look or touch. Who came up with this?

She takes the quickest bath of her life and dresses in a hurry until she realizes that you fresh from the bath was one thing, you fresh from the bath and in her bed was another.

She moves before she thinks and begins to throw pillows and covers onto the floor.

"You can sleep down there." she calls to you through the partition an seeks refuge under the covers.

But the covers offer no escape, because all the things she wants to do with you, and all of the feelings she has for you are still there, bubbling at the surface.

Nari:

You both ride up to a seemingly abandoned house. Pulling your horses up beside it, Nari takes the initiative to knock, only for the door to creak open.

"At least something will be easy tonight." you sigh, weary from the ride and the night's events.

Nari let's out a grunt in agreement, but still carefully peaks inside. It seems even she couldn't take this turn of good fortune at face value.

Once she pokes her head in, she let's out a soft "Oh no."

You rush to her side to see what has upset her and take in the small one room home. It's a step above poverty stricken. A fire pit, and a table with an old lap are pretty much all that's there. That and a single bed. You turn from the bed and look at Nari, only to find her looking at you, as if in a daze.

"How nice of the owners to have a bed ready for us, right?" You keep your voice light, trying to fend off the growing tension in the room.

“Our bed...”

Your eyebrows shoot up and she blinks rapidly, like she's recovering from a spell.

“I mean, yes—the bed, we could use it—for sleep!” She grips the hilt of her sword and furrows her brow, mentally kicking herself.

Use the bed for sleep? What else is a bed used for, Great Heavenly Architect strike her down now!

The problem is, that she knows what beds are used for besides sleep. And if you both shared a bed...

You could do those together.

With that thought she leaves the small home with a shout of "I'll stand watch!" and a promise of waking you for your turn.

She knows that she won't. Just like she knows that she won't do anything in bed with you. She'll just think about it.

All night.

Vividly.

Great Heavenly Architect strike her down now!

Aretas:

"I sent Isam ahead for a room." Aretas takes your hand and pulls you past the common area of the room, tugging his hood lower as you both head up the stairs.

"Slow down" you laugh, "If you're trying to avoid looking suspicious, then pulling me up the stairs in a cloak isn't the way to do it."

He stops and looks at you sheepishly, but doesn't let go of your hand. "Sorry, it's just it was so hard to find a room, and I've actually never been in an inn." When the lock clicks and the door eases open he begins to walk in but stops short, causing you to bump into him. It's a decent place. A modest room, with a hearth and even some bread on the table. One bed. "Oh, and there's bread? You should give Isam extra coin!" You keep your voice light, trying to fend off the growing tension in the room.

Shoulders tense, he glares at the bed.

"I should give Isam a death sentence." he mutters under his breath. Then he perks up as if something just occurred to him.

"We sleep back to back, that way if anything happens during the night, the other will be alerted!"

When you nod at his suggestion, he has to hold in a sigh of relief.

Please don't suspect his real motivation.

Please don't notice that he just wants your closeness and he'll take what he can get.

He climbs in first, and the moment you pull up the covers he extinguishes the lamp, lest you see the look on his face.

The warmth of your back bleeds through the fabric that separates you both and oh, how he wishes it was gone. He wishes that he wasn't such a coward, that he could turn over and tell you the truth about how he wants you.

But it's weak. It would be weak to lay himself bare before you, but he still wishes he could. And so the night is not filled with sleep for the young king, instead silent wishes and your soft breaths fill his head and heart.

Heka:

"Hello Brother! May we shelter with you tonight?" Heka smiles wildly at the older monk who opened the gate to the isolated temple.

The older monk squints at Heka's smiling face and let's out a reluctant sigh, before opening the door.

"The little brother knows that I can't say no, so why bother with the formalities?" he mutters more to himself than the two of you.

"Come, come. We have one pavilion for guests, but I've already eaten, so don't expect a meal."

Heka simply smiles and gives a bow. "Of course brother, and we are sorry to interrupt you during the festival."

The grumpy monk just sighs and leads you to an overgrown pavilion and leaves you both there without a second glance. Despite the meager lodgings, Heka is brimming with excitement.

"It's truly a blessing to find a place like this. Away from everything!" He doesn't enter the the pavilion, instead he runs up to it, running his hand over the faded walls. "These etchings look like they're from my teacher's time!"

He catches himself and looks at you, amusement dancing in your eyes.

"Oh no Heka, " you hold up your hands with a laugh, "Don't let me interrupt your inspection!"

He laughs and fiddles with his sash. Flustered he turns away from you looks at the pavilion again. "I know it's foolish to be happy about old wood but," he gives a wistful sigh before looking at you again, "it just reminds me of home. Let's go in." The door eases open with a creek and he begins to walk in but stops short, causing you to bump into him. Calling it humble would be being generous. With a small coal pan some bread on the table, meager would be a better term. Oh, and one bed. "Well, the cushions look soft!" You keep your voice light, trying to fend off the growing tension in the room.

Heka slowly turns toward you, eyes closed and a tight smile on his face. “I need to join my brother in prayer. We must chant and pray for the festival. You—you stay here, and rest well!”

"Should I join you—"

"No, no! Monk business!" with that he dashes out the door.

Heka runs through the overgrown temple, not to the other monk and certainly not to you. Under the moon he rests under a tree, feet still but his mind still racing.

It's a sin to lie, but these thoughts that he has for you can't be permitted either. He respects you, but as he imagines how it would feel to caress you under those covers, to breath you in, he knows that respect isn't all he has for you.

He wants to share your warmth, he wants to be yours and for you to be his.

Want.

The chill of the night feels like the only thing keeping him from igniting.

#Honor Amongst Thieves #ROs #answered asks #Merikh #Desma #Laverna #Sutek #Sarai #Nari #Aretas #Heka #All Ros #scenarios #if wip #interactive fiction #hat if #there was only one bed #and there was only one bed #one bed

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bittermuire · 3 years

Text

a nightlight and a bottle of wine

recently I’ve really loved nezriel and wanted to write a lil thing for them. this will be two parts, this is the first. modern au

---

It’s not like Nesta really knew what she was doing when she moved out. All she knows is that there is a rift between her and Feyre; a scar splitting their shared skin, a wound opening and reopening, never to heal.

And so she’s away. They’ve made their mistakes and let them be. They’ve hurt each other and even tried to love, but sisters love each other too much for love—and so she’s away. The guilt is still there, but farther from her, now. Nesta stirs it into her morning coffee and drinks the sleep, wiping it from beneath her eyes and the lines around her mouth.

Every so often Cassian will text her, inviting her out to dinner or to a work party, and Nesta resists the urge to throttle him. He’s a very smart, thirty-five year old man. He should know what cutting off someone means.

(He knows, of course he knows. She guesses he just thinks it doesn’t apply to him.)

His roguish charm, his smirk, his low voice, all inviting her to one thing—sex—was beginning to exhaust her. It’s a surprising relief to be away from him. She feels like she can wear tank tops and let her hair down and go out without a bra, relieved he won’t be there to stare.

(Was she really so afraid of him?)

So Nesta lives her life and drinks her coffee, wears her tank tops and sleeps in her underwear, finally a woman in the way she’s always wanted to be; she feels discrete from the rest of the world but in a near comforting way. She has no one to disappoint, no one to miss. Her world is confined to very few people and her mind allows for one.

•

But there are things that trip her up. Remaining ties.

One such: the nightlight clipped to her bed. It’s cheap, a gaudy silver. She’s sure Azriel bought it for no more than two dollars.

But she uses it every night.

(This trips her up.)

It’s a routine she’s given to herself, written into the margins of her life; she climbs into bed, smooths the blankets over her legs, grabs her book, opens it on her lap, then twists and switches on the light. It illuminates the page with a pretty, golden sun. She uses it religiously. She thinks that if she lost it, some intrinsic part of her might be lost as well, and this frightens her.

Remaining ties should be snipped. These last threads should be spooled up, put away, hidden in the bottom drawer.

She switches it on anyway, watches the light trace the letters.

(Sometimes she thinks she is the black stamp of letters. The utter bleakness of them on the smooth page. Sometimes she thinks she is what ruins the paper. She is what ruined the paper. There’s a reason she is here and they are there.)

•

November 19th.

Happy birthday to me.

She buys a cake from the supermarket and blows out the candle.

There’s a knock at the door, late at night. Not thinking to check, she goes to open it, and there stands Azriel, still in the doorway, bottle of wine in hand.

“Happy birthday,” he says bluntly.

She lets him in for some reason she still doesn’t understand, and they end up drinking a glass together. It’s from Cassian, the wine—his favorite. Azriel tells her that Cassian didn’t think she’d take it from him.

“So he asked you,” she says.

He smiles. “Because you like me.”

1:00 AM, and they’re still drinking. They barely talk. They just sit; they sit on the kitchen stools, then the rickety chairs, then the floor, then the couch, then back to the floor. His cheeks are pink, his words slurred.

“Why’d you come?” she asks, peering down at where he lays, splayed out, on the carpet.

(He’s not the kind for favors, she knows that.)

Opening his eyes, he fixes his gaze on her. He smiles sleepily.

“Happy birthday, Nesta.”

•

She doesn’t really celebrate for the holidays. Her apartment is bare, save a pair of twinkling bells on the kitchen counter, tied with a red ribbon. Sometimes when she’s cooking she’ll give them a little ring.

The letter comes in the mail—from Feyre, clearly put there by her own hand. It’s an invitation to dinner, for the winter solstice. They’re celebrating early this year because they’re going out of town for a few weeks.

(Please don’t feel pressured to come. We were going to leave you be but Az, since he’s so considerate, thought you might appreciate an invite.)

Nesta picks up her phone and texts Feyre a simple no thanks.

•

The next morning, she opens her door to a bottle of wine. Its neck is tied with a cherry red ribbon, and there’s a note—“If you’re ever lonely, give me a call. It’s my favorite.”

She doesn’t need to see who it’s from to know.

She smiles and picks it up, taking it inside.

•

It bites, the loneliness.

She wasn’t prepared for the quiet.

She traded in insults and jabs and sweaty hands at dinner tables for nothing, nothing, nothing. Silence in the shower, silence over breakfast. Over time, it’s begun to grate on her skin, sift between the strands of her hair, and she feels like she’s swimming a meter below the surface, ears clogged, vision blurred.

And slowly, she’s started to cry; she cries when the silence is too loud, when her aloneness is real, when she realizes the ugly truth of it all. She’s alone, she has nobody, she’s alone.

She picks up her phone and dials his number. “Let’s drink your wine.”

A small quiet. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“I know, Nesta,” he laughs. “I’ll be there.”

•

They don’t drink at all, actually. She starts crying again the minute she sees his face.

“Nesta?”

•

“I’m fine, really.”

They’re walking down the aisle of the grocery store, weeks later.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m doing better, I am.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. Pick a flavor. We’ll eat it, we’ll watch a movie.” He looks her up and down, brow creased. “You need two things—no, make that three things.”

She huffs a laugh, sticking her hand into the freezer and pulling out a carton. “What?”

“Sleep, ice cream, and company.” He grins. “And now you’ve got me.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.”

•

He’s seen her beautiful; he’s seen her ugly. He’s seen her in her rattiest apron with flour crusted into her fingernails. He’s seen her laugh so hard she cries, watched her slam her head into an open cupboard door, driven her to the hospital when she sliced her hand open with a knife. They’re together a lot, she realizes. They’re not halves; they’re one and one, and one and one make two, and they stand as two together on sidewalks, squinting at menus in the windows of restaurants, and they pet dogs in the park (Nesta always asks, because Az gets shy), and they take walks at midnight, and they live their lives contentedly next to each other’s. She starts to wonder if he splits his life into two—into Cassian and Rhys and Mor and Feyre, and into her, the girl who walked away. She’d like to know why he followed her.

Sometimes she’ll catch herself staring. Even before Cassian, she’d thought Azriel was the most beautiful of the three; all graceful, sloping shadows, soft and deep eyes, curling black hair. Her heart doesn’t know what to do anymore. It skips a beat when she sees him, but calms when she’s near him. It races when he leans close, falls to steadiness when he slings his arm over her shoulders. She can’t decide if she loves him like this or loves him like that. He means so much to her, means so many different things, that to give him a singular word wouldn’t fit.

She calls him Azriel, Az, Steve, Steven Shadow, Mr. Shadow, Ralph, Ron, He of the Candied Pecans, You. He responds to all of it. Recently he told her that it wasn’t because of the name, but because of the voice—(of course I don’t know who Ralph is, Nesta, but your voice, it’s your voice you use for me)—and she felt warm for reasons she couldn’t understand.

She shows up unannounced at his apartment when it’s a bad night. He does the same.

•

“Tell me the truth,” she begins, tipsy. “Did you like me before?”

“What?”

“Did you like me before?”

He frowns. “Elaborate.”

“Before you learned I’m a nice person. Back at the townhouse. When I hated everyone and was rude to you.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little. “I always liked you,” he says, and then his face settles into something like sadness. Nesta watches him closely. “I didn’t like… the way you made me feel, though. I’d see you down the hall, tired and everything, a stick of a person, and Rhys would make some joke, and I’d hate him.”

She blinks.

He looks down. “I’d never hated him before.”

There’s a tension between them. It’s common enough to be recognizable, but not enough to be familiar. She’s on edge, unsure.

The silence seeps in.

“And I hated myself, too,” he says. His eyes flick back up to hers.

Her breath catches in her chest. “I hated myself because I didn’t do anything. So I stayed away.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, overwhelmed. Everything is building; everything is quiet. His eyes are deep and dark and swirling. He shakes his head slightly, leaning closer, slowly, slowly, and she sees it all happen—he takes her face in his hands. She can see the stray strand of hair on his forehead, the one eyelash resting by his nose, the mole right above his mouth.

“I watched you fade,” he breathes. “I watched them pull you around.”

She twines one finger into his hair, trying to bring him closer, trying to have him closer. Come here, Azriel. Come with me. Be with me, love me, because I love you.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, because it’s all she can say.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmurs, and kisses her.

•

“Wait,” he says, reaching up.

“What?”

He touches the nightlight. “You kept this?”

She laughs, curled into his side, and says, “Of course I did.” He drops a kiss to her hair. “They all bought me books. You made it easy to read them.”

—-

@acosfisfeysandpropaganda I finally wrote it!!

#nezriel #nesta x azriel #nesta archeron #azriel shadowsinger

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

What’s yours is mine 1

Warnings: nonconsent and rape, allusions to abuse, stalking, possessiveness, pregnancy, and more tags to be added.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: dark!Ransom Drysdale x pregnant!Reader

Summary: After five years, your past is far behind you but just as you think you can live your happily ever after, your ex shows up at the worst moment.

Note: I couldn’t sleep and ended up writing this and it will not be a long ongoing series but it will be a few parts. But Roo you say that all the time. Yes, well, I’m trying and I’m sorry but I’m gonna try to not be the worst.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“Oh my god, is that really you?” the voice made you stand stalk straight.

You took a breath and forced a smile before you turned to the indomitable woman. You never expected to see Linda again, not after you broke up with her son almost five years ago. And there she was, as rigid and righteous as ever, her thin lips curved in a mocking grin.

“Linda,” you greeted her in a singsong and looked around the grocery store. You never went to the overpriced organic market but your local shop didn’t have dragonfruit and you had a painful craving, “how are you?”

“Darling, I’m just great,” she held an empty basket on her arm, an odd sight as you never expected her to do her own shopping, “oh, and look at you!” Before you knew it, her hand was on your stomach and you struggled not shy away, “how far are you?”

“Um,” you looked down at the large ring on her finger and resisted the urge to step away as you often did in this situation, “almost five months.”

“And married?” she grabbed your left hand and pretended to admire the small teardrop diamond, “gorgeous.”

“Mhmm,” you waited for you to release you and swayed in place, “you barely look a day older than the last time I saw you.”

“You’re well? You look well,” she primped her short hair at the compliment, “oh, a baby.” She reached out again and you sighed as she rubbed your stomach, “for luck.”

You tried not to frown and ended up laughing at the tension, “well, it was nice running into you.”

“Oh, you know, I barely come down here but we’re headed up to my father’s place, you remember, such a cozy house, and Joni is in charge of food and well, I wouldn’t trust her with a plastic spoon so of course, I have a back up plan.”

You nodded along with her awkwardly, frozen in the spot as the dragon fruit barely seemed worth the torture. Linda was hard to please and alway derisive, but for as long as you were with Ransom, she had taken a keen shine to you. That alone came with an edge but it was rarely used to cut you.

You forced another laugh, “that sounds fun, getting away from the city.”

“Ugh, just another family gathering,” she waved it off with her free hand, “I’ll have to tell Ransom I ran into you, if he even shows up.”

“Well, I don’t think--”

“He’s grown up so much,” she interrupted, “you wouldn’t believe it. He got his own imprint in my father’s company publishing true crime. He’s really making a place for himself now.”

“That’s great,” you tried not to falter at the mention of her son. You hadn’t ended on the greatest terms and your relationship had been tumultuous and regrettable.

“I hope you have a great weekend, Linda,” you said, “but I got to--”

“Oh, not at all, I’m keeping you,” she squeezed your arm, “God, he was such an idiot to let you go.”

You nodded and swallowed through your tight throat, “I’m glad he’s doing better for himself.”

“You too,” she trilled, “oh, before I let you go, darling, is it a boy?”

You blinked and your smile wavered, “how did you know?”

“I could always tell,” she said, “so precious.”

She gave your stomach one last pat and disappeared into the produce section. You blinked as you looked down at the scaled fruit in your right hand. Chocolate, you needed chocolate.

You were rattled as you waited in the express line and put your things on the belt. You hadn’t thought of Ransom in a very long time. Not much. His shadow followed you around in those moments when your heart raced and your head spun, but you had learned to work through those fits. No one else knew what happened behind closed doors, they only knew Ransom, not Hugh.

You paid and shoved your fruit and candy into a paper bag. You headed out into the misty spring air. The rain had finally stopped and left the streets slick and shining. The sun was hazy as it clung to the last of the clouds and you inhaled the wet scent of grass and gravel.

You let your key hang from the ignition as you took a moment to gather yourself. You stared at the modest ring on your finger and held your stomach and you swore you could still feel Linda’s bony hand there.

You had a loving husband, Dez, and a son on the way. Ransom wasn’t a part of any of that and this was just a blip on radar, the aftershock of the storm that ended years before. You sniffed and turned the engine. You wouldn’t go back to that store, it was far too expensive and the clientele were certainly not of your ilk.

🍼

Dez was in the kitchen when you got home, the smell of steak and peppers rose from the frying pan. You kissed his cheek as he kept one hand on the spatula and you dropped your bag on the counter beside the stove. You went to the fridge and poured yourself a glass of water. You turned and leaned against the marble and drank deeply.

“So, hon, how was your day?” he asked as he put the spatula down and peeked in the bag, “hmm, odd pairing but I don’t hate it.”

“I had a craving,” you shrugged, “it was… okay,” you heaved, “what’s for dinner?”

“Steak fajitas,” he said, “I trimmed the fat for you and,” he turned and reached out to you, “and I got you some champagne… non-alcoholic, obviously.”

“You know it doesn’t have the same effects,” you kidded as you put your glass down and settled into his arms, “and well,” you looked down at your stomach, “we already got one drunken night growing.”

He laughed and bent to kiss you on the lips. He rocked you as the pan sizzled behind him. You closed your eyes and tensed as suddenly your head flashed with the memory of Ransom, of the way he’d kiss you, harder than Dez, and the way it always turned to more whether you wanted it or not.

“Hey,” Dez pulled back, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, “hormones.”

“Aw, hon, well I have the perfect dessert planned,” he purred.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm, strawberry massage oil,” he framed your face with his hand, “a nice long back rub…”

“Perfect,” you giggled, “why are you spoiling me?”

“Don’t I always?” he smirked.

“Hmm, rarely without reason,” you said.

“Well…” he voice trailed off and slowly he dropped his arms. He turned his back to you and grabbed the pan, stirring the contents with a shake, “I didn’t want you to miss me too bad.”

“Miss you?” you came forward and bent your arms over the counter, “where are you going?”

“Chicago, there’s some evidence down there we need to look at and they refuse to transfer it to our office so… bullshit confidentiality clause, but we need it.”

“How long?” your heart dropped.

“Well, I gotta leave in the morning but I told Gary I won’t stay longer than Monday.”

“And what did he say?”

“He laughed,” Dez shook his head, “I promise, I’ll do my best to be back as soon as I can--”

“No, I understand,” you said gloomily, “it’s just…” you cupped your chin and tapped your lips with your fingertips, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said as he turned the burner off, “and this little guy,” he touched your stomach and you shivered as you remembered how Linda had done the same with her cold palm, “so, you choose a name yet?”

“Still not naming him Superman, babe,” you chided, “but no, I can’t make up my mind. God, it’s like my mind is in shambles, I can’t remember why I go in a room or even focus on one thing for more than two minutes before I’m distracted by what colour I want to paint the nursery and I can’t even decide on that because then I’m thinking about what kind of wood the crib should be--”

“It’s fine, you’re fine,” he assured as he opened the bag of tortillas, “you’re still there, you’re just… sharing a brain right now.”

“Wasn’t enough to go around in the first place,” you scoffed.

“Shh,” he arranged the plates carefully, like a five star restaurant, tortillas stacked, steak and veg together, a little dish of cheese, some sour cream, lettuce, salsa, all divvied out in a spectacular salsa you would only make a mess of.

“I thought the pregnancy would give me a chance to finish my book, but--”

“Well, you got maternity leave after that,” he said.

“From what? Sitting at my keyboard and crying? I’ll just be holding a baby and crying,” you sighed, “you said you’d take some time off.”

“I did say that and I will,” he grabbed the plates and nodded you out of the kitchen. He set the plates on the table and you sat as he went to grab two glasses and as many bottles. He poured you your spineless champagne and had a beer for himself, “I don’t want to miss anything.”

“You can’t take forever off,” you muttered, “we both know that. I could go back to copywriting and maybe--”

“Babe, that job made you miserable and you will finish your book,” he handed you a napkin, “I’ve read your stuff, it’s… you said your ex was in publishing?”

“Did I?”

“I thought you did, you never really… talk about the exes, which I love but, I think you said something about it. You don’t think he would--”

“No,” you snapped, “no,” you said softer, “he wouldn’t.”

“Sorry,” he said startled by your reaction, “I didn’t--”

“It’s nothing, I just-- exes, right?”

“It was a stupid suggestion,” he said, “I’m sorry, but… I have a client, he might have some contacts.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“I don’t have to, I want to because the world deserves to hear your voice,” he insisted, “I hate to share you but I’d be selfish to keep you to myself.”

You smiled and unfolded a tortilla. Still, your heart raced as the second mention of Ransom that day had you on edge. Dez watched you build your fajita and you looked up at him.

“Well, since you’ll be in Chicago, maybe I’ll get a few pages done.”

🍼

The call came on Monday, Dez wouldn’t be home that night. You contented yourself to stay in with your laptop and sugar cookies. Still, you barely got a sentence done before you snapped your computer closed and gave up with a frustrated grunt. You slept, not well, and got up with some trouble as your hips ached.

A good morning text from Dez made you smile but there was still no promise of an impending return. You felt pent up in the apartment and lonely as its emptiness reminded you of your absent husband. Too tense to sit down and type, you opted to go for a walk, hoping it would calm your nerves.

You walked past the shop windows and stopped to peek in at used books and handmade candles. You had no destination in mind, only a restless step. There was a little store at the corner with locally made quilts and knitted sweaters. The smell of potpourri wafted out from beneath the painted door and made your throat tickle. Even so, your curiosity drew you inside.

A small woman greeted you from behind the desk. She held two needles as she crocheted some indistinguishable craft. You smiled and said hello as you headed down the centre aisle. You looked along the racks of quilts, floral, striped, plaid, and polka dot. You stopped at a bright yellow piece with honey bees along the border. You hadn’t thought of yellow for the nursery.

You felt the soft fabric and checked the tag. You lifted the quilt from the bar, content that it was worth it and a great motivator. You stopped before you could turn back, a familiar voice chilled your blood.

“It’s cute,” Ransom said as he stepped up next to you, “kinda girly for a boy though.”

You glanced over at him and folded the blanket over your arm. You backed up but as you turned he did too. He blocked your bath as he stretched his arm across the aisle.

“My mother told me you were expecting,” he said, “and she was right, you look good.”

“What do you want?” you whispered as you clutched the quilt.

“Nothing, just saying hello,” his mouth slanted.

“Hugh, I’m not stupid,” you hissed, “it’s been five years.”

“Hugh,” he repeated dully, “you remember your manners.”

“Leave me alone and let me past,” you tried to duck under his arm but he shifted his body over and backed you up to the end of the aisle.

“And married,” he taunted.

“He’s outside,” you lied, “if I stay too long--”

“I didn’t see him when you walked up,” he intoned, “he must be easy to miss.”

“Have you been following me?” you uttered.

“Only from the cafe,” he shrugged, “short walk.”

“Please, get away from me,” you quivered.

“I’m not doing anything--”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hissed, “now I will scream so move.”

“Mama Bear,” he crooned, “I love it, you’re so protective.”

“Hugh,” you warned.

“Sweetie,” he hummed.

You shoved his shoulder but he didn’t move. You hit him harder and he winced. He chuckled and stood straight. He waved his arm down the aisle and stepped aside.

“Don’t make a scene,” he said, “you always did like to be dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled, “don’t come near me again.”

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me,” he called after you as you dropped the quilt on the counter, “we were so good together.”

You left without buying, a shrill apology to the lady at the counter as you went as fast as you could out the door. The bell tinkled after you and the door clamored shut. You felt nauseous and dizzy. The last thing you wanted or needed was to ever see that man again.

#ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #series #knives out #dark fic #dark!fic #what's yours is mine

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therealvalkyrie · 3 years

Text

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 6

sketch

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: fluff, romantic vegetable chopping, the chapter of realizing things

AN: Well, it’s been six fucking months, but it’s finally here!! It’s a little shorter than I’d prefer, and took a lot of iterations to get here, but I’m very satisfied:) Thanks, as always, to my lovely @doinmybesthere for editing and encouraging. I hope you all enjoy! I think there’re maybe 1 or 2 parts left in this story, that’ll hopefully be out more quickly than I managed this one. Please let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 5 here)

Finals week passes in a slow blur, barely leaving enough time for you to breathe between essays, exams, and one presentation that you think takes at least a year off the end of your life. It’s much the same for everyone else, as well — you barely see Levi, not counting the nights you spend alternating between your bed and his, and you don’t see Hange at all. Consequently, there’s no opportunity to break apart what happened on Saturday. No chance to peel back its layers and find how you really feel. Although, to her credit, Annie doesn’t appear again, so you’re able to shove it into a corner of your mind for the time being.

Saturday brings with it both a new winter storm and an overwhelming sense of relief. You let it fill you completely as you sit and watch snow swirl outside. The street below your kitchen window is bustling with students trying to outrun the storm to get home for vacation. But you have nowhere to be, nothing to do. It’s nice.

The door opens, bringing with it the stomping of Levi’s boots. You turn to watch him shake snow from his hair, sinking deeper into the reassurance of knowing that everything you need is here under your roof. Safe.

Hmm. What the fuck?

You choke on the next sip of your tea as the realization of what you just felt hits you square in the chest. Through your coughing and hacking, you reach again for that fleeting sense of home. Childish, content, warm.

“Are you okay?” Levi calls from the entrance, looking at you with pinched brows halfway through hanging up his jacket.

“Fine,” you cough out, pushing back from the table to hunch over and catch your breath. “I’m okay.”

It takes a moment for you to stop breathing hard, though when you do, your heart rate doesn’t return to normal, instead pushing blood to your face and neck and making your body feel light. Levi doesn’t help when he finally joins you in the kitchen, all floppy hair and bright cheeks from the snow. All leisurely about the way he stretches his lean body to take his favorite blend of Earl Grey from the top of the fridge.

“I was thinking about dinner,” he starts, completely oblivious to the way you’ve started sweating under your cardigan. “We shouldn’t order because of the snow, so I brought home stuff to make soup.”

“What kind?” It’s a miracle the words come out normally.

“Chicken noodle.” He turns to face you. “My mom’s recipe.”

—

“I don’t get why guys are always so uppity about kitchen knives,” you say, picking up what Levi’s told you is a utility knife. “Like, it’s just a knife. I’m not about to stab myself with it.” Your finger drags along its sharp edge for only a split second when Levi’s slim fingers are suddenly around your wrist.

“Don’t. Touch. The knives,” he growls, taking the utility knife gently from your other hand and placing it back on the counter. “I just sharpened them last week, you could’ve seriously cut yourself.”

His steel eyes hold yours for another long moment until you nod your head mutely. You haven’t been able to shake the knot of hyperawareness that’s been settled in your belly since your what the fuck moment, and it only twists tighter when he’s so close to you. His hair is dry now, curling slightly because he hasn’t bothered to comb it since he got home. You have to actively resist the urge to twist a particularly enthusiastic curl around your finger in the split second before he backs away again.

Muttering under his breath, he returns to the simmering pot on the stove that he claims has turned into stock, though you hardly believe it. Growing up, you’d never been taught kitchen skills, let alone anything close to actual labor.

For a while, you’re content to watch, sitting at the table and nursing both the ache in your chest and a fresh cup of chamomile, but the urge to join him in his quiet work overwhelms you as he’s washing the vegetables.

“Levi, please, can I help?” Your tone edges on whining, prompting him to huff and shift on his feet. “I promise I won’t touch the knives! There, just, must be something I can do.”

You see him roll his eyes, swear under his breath, then turn towards you with a glower.

“No talking, no questions, and go wash your hands.”

“Yes!” you cheer and stand up with a bounce.

The scent of the bar of soap as you lather and wash cuts pleasantly through the spices and thick scents already filling the kitchen. It’s not something you’ve experienced often, and you relish in what you realize must be home comfort, your grin settling from enthused to contented.

Levi is arranging carrots, celery, and onions next to the cutting board when you join him again.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to touch the knives?”

“You’re not, until I show you how to do it without chopping off your fingers.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” you tease, but nevertheless settle in beside him to watch as he lines up a carrot and picks up the utility knife.

“We’re generally going for even pieces, though it doesn’t matter much because it’s a soup. Put your fingers like this,” you lean over a bit to see how he’s arranged his left hand holding the carrot, the tips of his fingers just barely tucked under the knuckles, “so that you can chop like this—“ he begins slicing, knife guided by his knuckles “—and not lose your fingers. Always point the blade away from yourself and others, and never hold the handle like you’re going to stab something. That’s not effective, anyway. If you have to use this as a weapon, it’s much more effective to slash rather than stab, considering bone density—“

“Uhh,” you cut in, “pause. Are we slicing carrots or fending off home invaders?”

He stops chopping. “What did I say about asking questions?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Anyway. Considering bone density, you’ll have better luck aiming to cut big veins than forcing through ribs.”

He’s done with the first carrot, now, lithe fingers flipping the knife so the blade is up.

“Never drag the blade along the surface sideways. Flip it over and use the blunt edge to move food.” He demonstrates, moving the little pile of carrot slices to a corner of the cutting board. “Your turn.”

And then, like it’s nothing, he’s offering you the handle with a flat expression.

“Uhm.” You press your lips together and eye it for a long pause. “Are you sure?”

“It’s just a carrot. You’ll be fine.” He lets another unsure moment slide into being, then sighs and reaches out to wrap your hand around the handle. “Here, like this.”

And like you’ve suddenly stepped into a poorly-written romcom, he’s guiding your hands under his to the next waiting carrot, curling your fingers exactly like he showed you before, and scooting over to let you stand in his place. You just let yourself go along with it, hoping desperately that he won’t feel your hands grow clammy or see the way your chin has tucked itself shyly to your chest so you can watch.

Fucking shit carrots, useless goddamn root vegetable, can’t chop itself, has to make me do all the work—

Your aggressive inner monologue takes you all the way through the second carrot, then his hands are leaving yours and he’s placing a third under your waiting blade. Time to fly solo.

—

When you fall asleep in the armchair that night, sated and full of comfort food, Levi sketches in pencil on scrap paper. He sketches his hands over yours in the kitchen and he sketches the steam rising from the pot on the stove. He sketches you sitting with a bowl of soup in your lap, face illuminated by the TV and he sketches your sleeping body curled up, hair in your mouth. He sketches a close-up of your face, with special attention to the curve of your bottom lip, and he considers it practice for finishing the painting in his room.

Levi doesn’t think about how if he doesn’t do something soon, all of this will change. About how you’ll get over your heartbreak and move out at the end of the year and he won’t see you every day and every night. And he definitely doesn’t think about how he’ll have to adjust back to sleeping without your soft body tangled in his, and he doesn’t wonder how he ever slept before you.

No, instead of thinking, he just cracks his knuckles and gently scoops you from the chair and into his arms.

It’s as he’s climbing into his side of your bed that you stir and snort and blink sleepy eyes open.

“What time is it?”

“Ten forty,” he whispers, “go back to sleep.”

You hum and turn on your side to face him, face half hidden by the squish of your pillow. He settles more comfortably in, tucks your head under his chin even though you’re taller than he is, and drapes his free arm around the curve of your waist.

Quiet breathing is the only thing that fills the room for a long while, and he finally thinks you’ve drifted back off, when:

“Hey, Levi?”

“Hmm?”

“I... I’ve been thinking a lot, and...”

The tone of your voice is odd and it makes Levi’s throat seize up for a moment while you hesitate. He swallows deliberately.

“And?”

Your next words are more confident, like you have really been thinking a lot, your voice not sleepy in the slightest. It’s matter-of-fact and soft and lovely.

“And you make me feel really safe. Just, like, all the time. And I’m glad I met you. You make me feel, um...,” a small sniffle, “You make me feel held.”

Levi tightens his arm around you and swallows again. It feels like he’s balancing on the head of a pin, and a thousand angels are swirling around him, and it’s taking all he has not to get pushed off.

“Well, I am holding you.”

“Psssssht,” you wriggle slightly back so you can look at his face. You look simultaneously exasperated and vulnerable in the shadows of your bedroom. “You know what I mean.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Well, I guess...”

You pause to think for a moment, eyes flicking away from Levi’s face for a split second. Then, they’re back on his and he can feel the vulnerable honesty already spilling from you.

“I’ve never really, um, gotten a lot of physical affection? From people in my life? And, uh, it’s not just that, it’s that you’re so... so— so familiar, and not just because I know you, godimnotmakingalickofsense, but because it feels like I’ve always known you?” It’s said like a question, like you want to know if he feels the same. “And you just make me feel held.”

You pause on a shaky inhale of breath, then cover your face with your hands and roll onto your back away from him.

“God, I’m sorry, that doesn’t make any sense at all, I’ll just—“

“Stop,” Levi cuts you off, pushing up to lean over you and grasp your wrists in one hand and cover your mouth with the other, a mirror of the pair of you in the kitchen weeks earlier. “It makes sense. I get it.”

Your doe eyes stare up at him just like they did then and he selfishly indulges in an extra second of staring back before he releases you and slides back to rest on an elbow. Your hands stay demurely tucked by your chest where he put them and your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips as your eyes follow him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Okay. Good.”

Suddenly, Levi doesn’t feel like going to bed. He feels like running for miles or painting until his hands ache or hitting something, anything to distract him from doing something incredibly stupid right now. The mattress sinks as he sits up and spins his legs out of bed, muttering something about tea and not tired yet, and he almost doesn’t catch the sensation of you sitting up behind him.

He turns halfway back to tell you to go back to sleep, but your fingers catch his chin and he’s abruptly out of breath.

The curve of your bottom lip is perfectly, exactly the way he sketched it in the semi-dark. It’s slightly chapped.

When you kiss him, soft and certain, he topples off the pinhead and back into his body just in time to do something incredibly stupid and kiss you back.

—

(read part 7 here)

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #snk fanfic #shingeki no kiyojin fanfic #female!reader #levi ackerman #fluff #swearing #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

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nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

the other widow : b.b

natasha may have left what she once knew behind when she became an avenger, but there is still so much more to learn about her sister who escaped the red room with the help of a certain metal armed soldier. (3k)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

requested: yes! this has been a long awaited idea from @ateliefloresdaprimavera i hope you like it love :) warnings: mentions of violence, blood, nightmares. obviously, I haven't seen the black widow movie so this is just my interpretation!

In another life, things might've been different for you. Perhaps, you could have left your home country and followed many your age in their quest to find a better life in America or Europe. You might have met someone, a kind man who took care of you, who loved you deeply.

That would have been nice, in another lifetime. But it wasn't reality, at least, not yours.

Your reality was living in a world plagued by nightmares, of what was done to you for many years. It hurt to blink as you saw yourself, lying back on that table as Doctors crowded around you, muttering about the success of their work.

"No, she's still out there," Your ears perk up at the conversation behind you. The kitchen window remains open whilst you sit outside, tugging at the rose petals from the rose bush. It always was too pretty. Pretty things aren't designed to last for long.

Melina sighs heavily into her phone, glancing away from the window. "What do you expect me to do? She doesn't go anywhere." Disappointment laces her tone combined with the tiredness of her mind. She's been trying for months to encourage you to go out, further than the land you live on.

Faintly you can hear the other end of the conversation, Melina always had a habit of keeping her phone on speaker. "I might visit soon." That is all you managed to hear, but it was enough for you to drop the remainder of the rose and crush the petals beneath your feet.

"Oh good, you're awake." A pair of gloves snap against his wrists, causing you to flinch in your seat. "Now, Y/n, there's no point trying to struggle, you know what happened last time." Doctor Yeznik reminds you with a twisted smile, waiting for you to nod.

"They deserved it." You dare to mutter, only to hear Yeznik chuckle before he turns back to face you, gripping your face in his hand.

"And you deserve this." He seethes, stabbing a needle into your arm before you can fight back. "No one is coming to save you, Y/n, never forget that." Yeznik whispers, watching as your eyes begin to droop until you're unable to fight the urge to sleep.

Rising to your feet, you can feel a smile ghost your lips at the sight of a Blue Tit perching on the edge of the birdbath. One of his wings isn't quite right, and as you approach it, it remains perfectly still.

Holding your hands out, you ignore the scars from the restraints still marking your wrists and forearms. "I won't hurt you," You tell the bird as it dips its head into the water, shaking the excess off. "I can help you, little one." You add quietly, only to watch the bird retreat and fly away uneasily.

"There's always next time." Melina calls out from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah," You nod, lowering your arms and bury your hands into your pockets. "if it makes it through the night without being able to fly far."

Entering the kitchen, you pass Alexei in silence, despite him turning his head to speak up.

Once out of sight, Alexei averts his attention to Melina who simply shakes her head. "She's still working on recovering." Melina sighs, taking a seat opposite the broad man. "The, the red room got worse after Natasha escaped."

"You don't have to explain," Alexei waves her off, aware of you standing at the top of the stairs, listening in due to the creak of the floorboards. "it'll take time."

"I just don't know if that's something we have." Melina comments, passing a burner phone to Alexei with a text message on display.

Shifting in his seat, Alexei looks back at Melina before crushing the phone in his grasp. "We'll do what we can." He mutters before silence ensues and the pressure from the floorboard beneath your feet eases as you return to your needed solitude.

Opening your eyes, you knew something was off, something was different within the house.

Underneath your pillow, you grab ahold of your gun before traipsing out from your room which remains in permanent darkness.

As you exit your bedroom, light tries to seep through the gap in the door but you quietly close it, keeping the darkness concealed from the light.

Avoiding any creaking floorboards, you keep your gun aimed at all times before the faint sound of laughter catches your attention from downstairs. It was a rarity to hear anything joyous in the household, mostly arguments occurred or stories of fights Alexei shares that you can recite from memory if you were ever asked.

But this was different, something lighthearted shared for a brief moment before you turn the corner and hover by the kitchen doorway seeing all the seats taken at the table, Melina's now taken by a redhead.

"This is a surprise." You speak up, placing your gun on the counter, now catching everyone's attention.

Smiling to Yelena, Natasha quickly turns around in her chair, leaning her arm over the back. "Hey sis," She greets you, her accent replaced by an American version. "long time no see, huh?"

Everyone in the room remains still, waiting for you to make the first move like a scared animal. You'll either scarper or approach with caution, and even at that moment, you're unsure which route you'll take.

"What brings you back here?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you remain standing, despite Alexei rising to his feet and offering you his chair.

"There's some unfinished business I have to deal with." Natasha states, and Yelena motions for you to come closer whilst Natasha has her back turned.

"And we're being dragged into it somehow?" You're quick to comment, remembering the last time it happened which resulted in your previous home being burnt to the ground and Natasha vanishing into thin air once more.

Rising to her feet, Natasha walks over to the doorway leading into the garden. She doesn't wait for you to follow, but she knows eventually you will.

"She means well, Y/n." Yelena tells you whilst playing with a knife, jabbing it against the table despite Melina swatting it away.

Humming to yourself, you force your feet forward until you're outside, listening to the peaceful presence of nature.

Whilst you're in your own world temporarily, Natasha can't help but take the opportunity to observe you, notice the changes since she last saw you. Melina explained the nightmares you've been having of late, how you wake up clawing at your own skin until it bleeds and you clutching onto a pillow, tearing into the cotton with ease as you sob.

You look visibly drained, that much Natasha can tell. She knew she should've brought you with her, away to America the last time she was here, but there wasn't enough time. She watched you from afar as the building fell into itself, devoured by the flames and you looking around for your sister, nowhere to be seen.

"There's a little blue tit who visits daily now," You begin to explain, opening your eyes as they remain trained on the empty birdbath. "he's got a damaged wing, can't fly very far but he always visits." Moving closer to the bath, you can see the reflection of other birds flying above in groups. One or two flies further back from the others, flapping their wings in desperation to not be left behind; something you know all too well.

As your hands rest on the birdbath, Natasha can see the scars across your skin clearly.

"Y/n, I never got a chance to apologise last time I was here," Natasha begins, stepping closer toward you, yet you seem oblivious to her words.

"And I hope at some point he'll let me help him, mend him back to his best so he can fly away." Your lips rise for a second at the thought before returning to a straight line, now allowing yourself to process Natasha's statement. "You don't need to apologise, Nat."

"But I do, Y/n." Natasha urges as she resists reaching out for your hand, knowing no one touches you anymore unless they dare risk a broken bone or two. "I should've found you in there and taken you with me. You were still a child, I,"

"I don't blame you, sister." Turning to face her, you force yourself to smile, an attempt to reassure her as she frowns deeply. "The only person I blame for everything is Yeznik." You can't help but shudder, hearing his voice in the back of your mind, one of the many who taunts you in your sleep.

"That's why I'm here." Natasha states.

You can't stop the scoff from leaving your lips. "You can't be serious, Natasha." Yet, you watch your sister nod immediately. "Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She retorts, catching you off guard. "Don't think I don't know about the truth behind your escape, Y/n."

"What are you talking about?" You question, knowing better than to confess to your sister of all people. "I escaped that hell hole on my own. Killed several guards in the process and escaped with nine bullet wounds." You remind her, lifting your shirt to show the bullet wound scars that never properly healed.

"But you didn't escape from the Red Room. You escaped during a mission." She explains, watching your expression falter for half a second, but it was enough for her to know you're lying.

Shaking your head, you back away toward the small hutch hidden beneath an oak tree that currently houses three rabbits.

"That is preposterous, even for me, Natasha." You chuckle, opening the hutch and reach for the number one who happily hops out and stands beside you.

Looking away from you, Natasha can see the three others watching closely from the kitchen window. She can see Yelena mouthing something, but rolls her eyes when Natasha shakes her head.

"The Winter Soldier." Yelena marches over, causing you to tense up and the rabbit hops back into the hutch as you gently lock it once more. "Remember him, Y/n?"

"His name is Bucky." You mutter under your breath before slowly standing up. "And don't you dare talk about him." You spit at Yelena who spares Natasha a look.

"You helped each other escape, didn't you?" Natasha pushes her question, and this time to her surprise you don't object.

"Follow me," You sigh, walking around the garden to a set of stairs, leading you to the rooftop filled with trees and plants.

Admiring the greenery, Natasha hesitantly follows behind you.

"You going to stand there all day or sit down?" Raising a brow to Natasha, she breathes out a laugh and sits down on one of the seats dotted around that isn't taken by a plant.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Natasha leans forward, resting her forearms on her thighs and you mirror her action.

"Yes." You mutter. "But I can't remember everything it, part of it I blocked out." You admit, feeling your leg already beginning to shake beneath you.

"You will be accompanied this time, Y/n." Your tutor, Ms Ivanov tugs on your ponytail forcefully whilst you remain seated.

"I don't need company." Tugging your head forward, her fingers fall through the ends of your hair and she hums in response. "I'm capable of this myself."

Ms Ivanov chuckles under her breath before standing in front of your desk, resting her hands on the sides as her eyes fixate on yours. "That might be so, but not this time." Pushing her hands from your desk, Ivanov nods to the closed door.

Within seconds someone is forced through the metal frame with a bag covering their face. They're of a large build, but your eyes widen at the sight of metal making up their left arm.

"Is it?" Your question leaves your lips before you've fully thought about what this means, and Ivanov smirks.

Stepping toward the concealed figure, she tugs the sheet from their face, revealing a mass of brown hair.

He lifts his head up and stares at you immediately those pensive blue eyes you've heard whispers of. He fights against his restraints as two guards stand behind him with loaded guns.

"There will be plenty of time for that, soldat." Ivanov laughs, patting his metal arm. "Now, Y/n. It's time to go."

"I don't know what happened on that mission. But when I woke up, I, I was free." Unable to look at your sister, your focus lies on the breeze weaving through the branches of the trees.

Natasha leans forward, wishing she could tell you everything she knew. "You saved each other, Y/n." She speaks up, remembering the last time she saw him, a broken shell of the man he once was, his demeanour mirroring yours.

"I guess," You shrug. "but after everything, I, I have no idea what happened to him. I, I don't even know if he's still," Pursing your lips, the word never leaves as you curl your arms toward your stomach.

Looking toward the others, Natasha sighs at their disapproving glares. She knows they mean well, that they are practically family. But you're the only true blood family Natasha has left, and she can't lie to you anymore, not this time.

Standing in Wakanda, Bucky smiled truly for the first time in years. He was no longer plagued by the fear of becoming the Winter Soldier. He was finally free of it all.

But he still had a long way to go, to make amends for those he hurt, and amongst everyone, there was you. His Black Widow, Y/n.

"Hey, Barnes." Natasha stands beside him, looking out at the vast farmland that surrounds them. She can't help but think how much you would love to be somewhere like this, somewhere that is peaceful, tranquil.

"Hello, Natasha." Bucky turns to face the redhead, having not spoken to her since he was under Zemo's control. "I erm, I would like to apologise for everything I did, and for hurting you all those years ago." Bucky explains, and Natasha patiently listens, allowing him to get his full speech out. "And for what they made me do in," Furrowing his brows together, Natasha clears her throat.

"We don't have to talk about that." She tells him as she reaches into her pocket, taking out a folded piece of paper, well worn. "I wanted to ask you something before anyone knows where I am."

"Okay?" Bucky answers uneasily, tugging on the cloth that covers the remainder of his left shoulder.

Unfolding the piece of paper, Bucky can see a glimpse of a black and white photo.

"Here," Natasha holds the photograph out, face down to Bucky who hesitantly accepts. She watches intently as he turns the photograph over and can't help but smile as his breath hitches in his throat.

"Y/n." Bucky looks up to Natasha who simply nods.

"I was wondering if you'd remember her." Natasha crosses her arms over her chest, trying to hide the smirk forming on her face and amusement in her tone.

A playful scoff leaves Bucky's lips. "How could I forget her?" He thinks aloud. "I could never forget the person who helped me escape, who, who," 'Helped me realise I'm still human despite everything I've done.' Bucky thinks to himself, remembering the night before he left you as you lay in his arms whilst he listened to your soft reassurances. "Do you know where she is?" He tries to hide the hope in his voice, but it's useless.

"Yes." Natasha answers. "Y/n Romanoff." She states, and Bucky stares blankly at Natasha for a moment, before a light laugh leaves his lips.

"I shoulda known." He sighs dramatically. "Makes a lot of sense now." Bucky mutters, but Natasha doesn't pry. "Is, is she with you?" He glances past her, toward the jet she came on, but Natasha shakes her head.

"She's safe, in Russia." Natasha explains as she walks alongside Bucky toward the lake. "But she prefers the company of animals over people these days."

"Makes two of us then." Bucky comments. "I, I promised I'd find her." Allowing his mind to drift as the lake ripples, Bucky pictures your sleeping form in his arms minutes before he left you. He whispered you a promise, one he has yet to fulfil.

"Then let me help you keep that promise." Natasha places her hand on his arm gently, and Bucky snaps out from his thoughts. "I know you're still healing, and she is too. But I'll come back, Barnes."

Bucky nods. "Thank you, Natasha."

"James Barnes," Natasha slowly interrupts your prolonged silence. "is still alive, he, he's healing, but he remembers you, Y/n."

You reach out and take Natasha's hand in yours. For a moment, you simply stare, void of emotion before tightening your grip, beginning to crush her fingers whilst Natasha remains stoic.

"Don't lie to me, Nat." You tell her, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

"I'm not lying, Y/n." She responds, ignoring the pain you're inflicting before your grip begins to ease, but she doesn't pull away immediately. "He made you a promise, didn't he?"

"I, I don't know." You admit sadly, looking down at your lap, faintly hearing his voice in the back of your mind fighting through the horrid memories engrained there from the red room.

"He did, Y/n." Natasha asserts herself. "Would you like to see him?"

"I think so." You answer honestly as you uncurl your body and sit upright. "But only once this is over. Once Yeznik is gone. I don't want to be haunted anymore, Nat."

This time, Natasha extends her hand, taking yours in hers delicately.

"Okay, sis." She breathes out, helping you to your feet. "Let's get started."

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