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nolita-fairytale · 11 months

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give you my wild, give you a child | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x pregnant fem!reader oneshot

summary: your second trimester while pregnant with baby bear is way sexier than you expected.

warnings: smut, breeding kink, language, 18+ only, barely proofread.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: hi it's me with the second trimester sexapalooza smut i promised @starbritestarlite and @carmensberzattos. and with this new season, let me know if you want to be added to my carmy taglist!! i wrote this as a companion piece to the 'make my heart heart surrender' universe, specifically for the 'carmy as your baby daddy' headcanon/social media au series. anyways, i've been thoroughly enjoying season 2 and am sitting into the fact that i've created my own universe inside of their universe. god we love fanfic. anyways... this is nsfw so 18+ only.

Today 2:21 pm

Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: On the way home for lunch.

You: Hurry, baby.

Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: You good, sweet girl?

Your reply is almost instant, and Carmy wonders what could possibly come next as he sees the three dots appear below your message, indicating that you’re still typing.

It’s a link, his eyes widening as soon as it appears in his iMessage history with you.

You: Hottest Sex Positions For Pregnant Women | Cosmopolitan

Before he can notice that it feels ten degrees hotter in the room, that his face has turned cherry red, that his pants are beginning to feel unbearably tighter, he’s interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

“You good, chef?” Marcus asks, as he passes by, noticing the red tones that have risen to Carmy’s cheeks.

“Wh-, oh yeah!” Carmy answers, almost too quickly, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

Marcus shoots him a strange look, examining his boss’ face.

“Just uh… gotta go home for lunch.”

3:03 pm

“What took you so long?” you practically growl as soon as Carmy gets through the door.

He hasn’t even had a chance to close it properly before you’re on him like a moth to a flame. Dressed in the cutest pair of white shortalls, you’ve been working from home all day – or rather, mindlessly clicking through your e-mail while waiting for Carmy to come home all day, your mind preoccupied with the fact that Carmy hasn’t been home to give you exactly what you want.

What you need, may be the better description.

It’s as if the spirit of Eros himself has taken you over, unable to focus properly as your rapidly changing body needs is practically screaming out for one thing and one thing only:

To be properly and thoroughly fucked by the man that got you here in the first place.

“I-,” he begins, attempting to explain that he was running a little behind and got caught up giving feedback to one of his new line cooks before your mouth is on his in an all-consuming kiss.

Now that he’s here, you regret even asking him, careless for the why when it feels this good to have him pressed up against your body. Your lips are desperate, hungry, intense, as you tangle yourself into him. It’s as if you can finally relax, like you can finally take a breath, now that your husband is finally here.

He lets out a little groan of surprise against your mouth, as if you’ve charged towards him like the sexual equivalent of a tasmanian devil.

And in his defense, you have.

“Baby,” he whispers against your lips. “Should we-, can we even-, shouldn’t you be working?”

He’s not wrong.

You should be working.

But the unbelievable and insatiable need for sex – for sex with Carmy – is the only thing driving you these days, holding you hostage to its unbelievable and all-encompassing power. You’re like a woman possessed as you reluctantly pull away from him to put his mind at ease. Your lust-filled eyes look him over, his curls already wild from a long day at the restaurant, as you shake your head ‘no.’

“I finished all my work for the day and signed off early. Perks of being a start-up sellout,” your well-kissed lips inform him.

Carmy’s head spins in response to your answer.

Maybe it’s the prospect of the sex.

Maybe it’s the way it’s the way your mouth feels against him as you kiss down his jawline and his neck.

“Okay, but I gotta be back at the restaurant at 4:15,” he smiles in agreement, more than happy to oblige.

“That’s plenty of time,” you coo, nibbling on his earlobe.

This time it’s Carmy who initiates, using both of his hands to cradle your face before his mouth is over yours again. The kiss starts slowly this time as he inhales deeply, taking you in. You shift closer, pressing your slightly-rounder-these-days belly against his body once more. He moans, his hands immediately traveling down your body, to your hips as he breathes you in again, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with you forever. His touch ignites something in you and you allow yourself to surrender, lost in the feel of his hands against you. His hands are everywhere – your hips, traveling up your belly, dancing across your fuller-than-normal breasts – and finally the drawn-out unrest of your mind can finally find peace.

He’s starting to get used to this.

And he’ll admit that he really, really likes it.

Carmy changes positions with you so that he can press you up against the front door as you continue your passionate makeout.

Your first trimester had been hell – mornings spent on the bathroom floor together while you hurled the contents of your stomach into the toilet, days where you barely had the energy to get out of bed, nights where you were too hot to sleep that all you could do was lay on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, frustrated tears pouring out of the corners of your eyes – your body undergoing the hardest reset of your life.

So when the fog and tumultuousness of your first trimester subsided, it was a more than welcomed change – and in so many ways. You’ve traded mornings of flat ginger ale, saltines, and sympathetic back rubs, with mornings spent tugging on Carmy’s perfect curls while you cried out his name.

“You smell like sandwiches,” you giggle in between kisses.

“Ah shit. I should shower,” he sighs, reluctantly.

He knows your sense of smell has been heightened lately, and he can’t imagine that smelling like a spicy Italian sandwich would be much of a turn on for you. He begins to pull away, but there’s now way in hell you’re letting him go as you grab his hands in yours.

"No, Carmy, I can't wait,” you whine, the sound of your voice the most needy, beautiful thing Carmy’s ever heard in his life.

“You could join me,” he offers with a raise of an eyebrow, presenting a solution you can absolutely get behind.

“Uh huh. Yes please,” you nod eagerly, a girlishness to the way you answer him.

Please.

Your usage of the word’s got him harder than a rock and he loves this side of you. Your sex life had been great before the pregnancy, but there’s something different about it now. Something about how needy you’ve been – the only thing that can possibly quell the fire inside of you being him – has him unraveling at the seams.

How could he possibly say no when he’s more than eager to give you exactly (and then some, if it’s up to him) what you want?

Your fingers are still tangled in his, licking your lips as you add, “My baby daddy thinks of everything.”

Carmy shakes his head, tugging at your hands as he leads you towards the bathroom, mentioning that he still can’t get over the fact that you’ve chosen to call him that in front of everyone you’ve ever known. You remind him that it’s cute, and though he’s not sure he gets it, he lets you do it anyway because it makes you happy.

As you both reach the bathroom, you patiently wait as Carmy turns on the shower, running a hand through the stream of water to check the temperature. One minute he’s focused on the cool water coming down from the showerhead, and then next he’s caging you in between his body and the bathroom sink.

“You miss me this much, pretty girl?” he murmurs dreamily, his hand trailing up your inner thigh.

You nod, taking note of how perfectly his top lip fits in between yours.

“Yes, baby. Thanks for coming home for lunch,” you manage to get out, in between desperate kisses.

“No need to thank me,” he smirks, a newly-found confidence in his voice.

His hands are tugging at the hem of your shorts, as if he could slide the overalls down your body this way, a small pang of frustration welling deep in his stomach as he realizes that’s not going to happen. He kisses you with a fervor that makes you dizzy, as Carmy fumbles with the straps of your overalls. Trying his best to unclasp one side, he tosses the strap over your back, a clang sounding out within the four walls of the small room as the metal of the claps hits the porcelain of the sink.

Carmy lets out a groan as he tugs at the second strap, causing you to giggle.

“These stupid things,” he huffs, a look of embarrassment running through his brilliant blues.

“Here, baby,” you say, slipping one of your arms out of the tangled strap.

He groans as soon as his eyes meet yours again, more than happy to help you out of these damn things.

He pulls the overalls down with a rigor that stops right as the overalls drop to your waist, revealing your white tank top – one that you’re not wearing a bra underneath.

“Sweetheart,” he groans, his hands ghosting over where your nipples stand erect against the fullness of your breasts.

“You been like this all day?” he mutters against your skin, leaning down to drag his mouth over your still-clothed breasts.

“Mmmmhm. Needed you,” you moan, your eyes closing as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you.

He’s so incredibly hard right now it’s not even funny.

“Yeah?”

By the time you open your eyes again, Carmy’s on his knees, so gentle, so tender with the way he slides the rest of the piece of clothing over the bump that’s been growing inside of your belly.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

You shimmy out of your overalls as Carmy jumps back to his feet, removing your tank so that the only thing you have left is the pair of panties you’re still wearing. Before he can kiss you again, you’re tugging off his shirt, a sacrifice, an offering to the bathroom floor.

“Should be warm enough, yeah?” you ask, gesturing towards the shower.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod, removing his shorts.

You feel all the blood in your body rush south as you see how hard he is already, swallowing hard. Carmy helps you into the shower, like the gentlemen he is, and you hope that’s where the gentleness ends.

Before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you towards him, wrapping one of your legs around his waist as the warm water begins to wash over the both of you.

“I’m so sorry, pretty girl,” he hums as his nimble fingers slip between your legs. He groans as soon as he feels how goddamn wet you are.

“Fuck, honey.”

“See? I told you I needed you, Carm,” you pant, letting out a high keening moan as he draws lazy circles around your clit. You’re already bucking your hips into his hand and he’s barely started touching you.

"You're so sensitive. So responsive, sweet girl,” he teases you, as he drags his fingers through your folds. You are so unbelievably wet that he’s not sure how he managed to get so damn lucky.

"I just want you to fuck me, Carm. I’ve needed it all day. I need you to make me feel good," you beg, completely lost in the way his fingers feel as he slides two into you already.

It’s like his touch sets fireworks off in your brain, setting your nerves on fire as you cry out.

"Yeah?” he taunts you, an almost amused tone in his voice as he sets the slowest rhythm. “Think that’s how we got here in the first place, pretty girl.”

"I know,” you whimper, moving your hips against his fingers for any kind of friction. For something more. For something faster. For something deeper. But at this rate, with how much he seems to enjoy teasing you, with how horny you are, you’ll take anything.

“But nothing feels as good as you, Carm.”

Your words go straight to his dick and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to leave you alone ever again – might as well quit his day job in exchange for this all-day never-ending second trimester sexapalooza you both seem to be caught inside of.

He’s practically choking on his words as he manages to ask you:

"What’s that, baby? Did you touch yourself while I was gone?"

You nod pathetically, moaning as he buries his thick fingers deep inside of you. He pauses, feeling the way your walls pulse around him as he stays inside of you, wanting to memorize this moment forever.

In any other circumstance, he’d make you fall apart on his fingers, and then his tongue before you even went there, but with your recent admission, he’s decided that he has to have you now. In one swift motion, Carmy pulls his fingers from you, releasing his grip on your leg, eliciting a whine at the loss of him.

Before you can even protest, he’s turning you around in the shower, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against your backside as he pulls you close.

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like this,” he taunts you, playfully, as he drags his cock through your folds a few times.

“Carm,” you whimper, bracing your hands against the shower wall. “Don’t tease.”

“What’s that?” he coos, pressing his thick tip against your clit.

“I don’t think I can take it. Please, baby,” you whine, so desperate for him to be inside of you. You push your ass back against him, offering your body to him for the taking.

“Fuck!” he grunts out, because he just can’t resist you like this.

You let out a sharp cry, as Carmy pushes himself inside of you, finally giving the thing you’ve wanted all day long.

Carmy sets a slow pace at first, burying himself all the way to the hilt, so that you can feel all of him – every single ridge, every single vein of his cock with each thrust – and with how sensitive, how turned on you are, you’re already seeing stars. His hands hold onto your waist, controlling the speed of your lovemaking, as you press your hands against the shower wall, bracing yourself. You want him everywhere, all around you, consuming you with every fiber of his being, as if all you can do is hold yourself up and let him know how good he’s making you feel.

Carmy’s lips are on your neck, leaving love bites across your shoulders, murmuring sweet nothings about how well you take him and how good you feel. And then he’s speeding up the pace of each thrust, pulling you back towards him. His hands are all over you: pressing you back against his chest, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples as he takes care of you.

His wife.

The mother of his child.

The love of his life.

You turn your head just enough so that you can kiss him as Carmy’s hand reaches up to cup your face, making sure that he can kiss you properly too. This time you’re standing up taller, grinding against him, wanting to touch your husband more than you need to hold yourself up against the wall. Your hand slips behind you, grabbing at whatever parts of him that you can, bracing yourself against him, as if you could get Carmy even closer to you, while the other is guiding his across your body, your fingers tangled together.

He’s perfect.

This is perfect.

It’s what you’ve been aching for all damn day.

“I need you, Carm,” you moan into his mouth, as the consistent feel of him thrusting in and out of you has you delirious.

"You have all of me, baby,” he reassures you in the tenderest tone of voice he can muster, his other hand resting just underneath your breasts as he fucks you.

"More."

"More?"

He’s not sure what ‘more’ could mean at this moment, but the dirty talk is so hot that he’s more than willing to find out. He slows down his pace, dragging his cock in and out of you and the most delicious pace.

"Yes,” you pant, pulling away from the searing kiss, your head hanging low. Your hands return to the shower wall as you arch your back, bending at the hips so that you can take him deeper as you add:

“I want to make you a daddy."

His hips stutter for a second, caught off guard by what you’ve just said.

"You-you are, sweetheart,” he chuckles, slowing his pace down for a moment as he watches himself disappear inside of you over and over again.

“Carmy,” you groan, in response to his change pace.

You’re grinding your ass against him, begging him to speed up, but his hands return to your hips, stopping you.

The sight alone, and what you’ve just said, he thinks to himself, might kill him.

You whine as Carmy brings his movements to a halt, trying to get him to fuck you again. But he can’t let what you’ve just said go unrecognized as he stills your hips.

"What was that? You like walking around like this, hmm? Everyone knowing what I've done to you?" he asks you, holding your hips so that you can’t move.

You’ll give him anything to get what you want.

Even if it means saying it again.

“Yes, baby,” you sigh, and Carmy lets out another moan as you squeeze around him.

“I want to make you a daddy. Just fuck me. Please.”

“Oh fuck,” Carmy mutters, knowing he’s not going to last much longer if you keep that up.

He pulls out of you, and before you can protest, he’s slamming back into you in a way that makes you sob. He sets a brilliant pace this time, and you're arching your back, pressing your hands against the wall even harder – and all you can do, all you want to do, is take it. Hearing you chant his name over and over takes over him. He’s a man determined, with a single-minded focus on giving you exactly what you want.

He’s reduced you to a moaning, mumbling mess, as you chase both of your orgasms.

“Touch me, Carmy,” escapes your lips, and he’s more than happy to oblige, his fingers immediately coming to your clit.

He’s so goddamn talented, using his cock and his hands to make you fall apart.

You feel a familiar coil in your belly, and with the way you’re squeezing around him, Carmy can tell your close.

“Come on, sweet girl. Go ahead and let go for me,” his voice sturdy, confident, strong.

And seconds later, your eyes slam shut as you’re crying out his name, falling over the edge as your husband pulls the most delicious orgasm from your body.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.”

He’s right behind you – literally and figuratively – as Carmy’s thrusts become more erratic, finally letting go after exercising an impossible level of self control. He spills inside of you with a grunt, holding you against him as he pauses.

Breathless, you throw your head back, grateful that his shoulder is there to catch you. With the slightest turn of your head, you’re able to kiss him, placing the gentlest kiss against the corner of his mouth before Carmy’s hand comes up to lift your chin towards him again, so that he can kiss you properly.

“Holy shit, Bear,” you sigh, a sense of relief washing over you.

“Yeah,” he pants, trying to catch his breath with you.

You both take a beat, a moment to let your brains catch up with your bodies, just holding onto each other – savoring the way it feels to be in each others’ arms.

“I should uh… I should probably still shower,” Carmy starts, beginning to come back down to earth.

You turn back towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, entertaining him with slow, lazy kisses in between words.

“But why don’t you dry off and get into bed?” Carmy suggests, using a quiet yet direct tone, almost as if it’s an order.

It’s as if he knows that, though the last orgasm he’d just given you had been world-rocking, there’s no way in hell you’ll be satiated today with just one.

“Really?” you ask, hopefully with a giggle.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Heard, chef,” you tease him, eliciting a playful eye roll from him.

He releases you, giving you the time and space to wring out your hair and step out of the shower.

And as you do what he says, he rewards you for it, spending the rest of the afternoon with his face buried between your legs until he’s ready to go again.

“And we’ve got a special tonight. Lemon chicken piccata. We’re talkin’ major Berzatto family recipe, ok? So let’s make sure we’re talkin’ up, alright?” Richie announces, following it up with a reminder to all of his servers of the main talking point during tonight’s pre-shift meeting.

Carmy thinks he’s been stealthy as he attempts to sneak back into the restaurant, considering he’s thirty minutes late. He feels lucky that since everyone is preoccupied with the pre-shift meeting that they couldn’t possibly notice him slipping in this late. He hears the meeting end, making a mental note that tonight’s mise has been done right, praying that tonight’s service goes smoothly.

He has, afterall, been using up a lot of extra energy lately….

“Hey, Jeffrey. We were wondering when you’d be in tonight,” Tina comments, as she returns to the kitchen, ready to lead service tonight.

“Oh uh, yeah. Sorry, got caught up with some stuff,” he mumbles, avoiding her gaze as he doesn’t have an excuse or a cover story.

“Mmmhhhmmmm,” she sounds, passing him by, because it’s no secret what Carmen Berzatto’s been up to lately.

“Yo, cousin!” Carmy calls out, in search of Richie.

Carmy makes his way into the dining room, and as soon as Richie sees him, knowing what time it is – knowing that Carmy’s running late – he smirks. A blush runs over Carmy’s cheeks as Richie shakes his head with a laugh.

It’s as if Richie can see right through him, and suddenly, Carmy’s feeling incredibly exposed.

Richie wags a finger at his cousin, his laugh beginning to build.

“Ahhhh man, cousin,” he sighs, an amused look on his face as he continues. “No one warned ya, huh?”

“I-,” Carmy starts, searching for any and all excuses he could make up on the spot, to no avail.

“Men can’t resist a pregnant woman. Sheesh. Enjoy it while you can, jagoff.”

2K notes · View notes

sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Give Me Your Hand {Here Is My Heart}

Summary: You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to be in Bradley Bradshaw’s bed, and now you finally get to find out. (Spoiler: It’s even better than you could have ever imagined.)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K+

Warnings: so much smut with a side of fluff (Minors DNI)

(This is a 2-Part series for the “Like I Can” Universe. However, it can be read on its own!) Read Part 1 here!

“Well, are you coming?”

You are two lace trimmed bits of cotton away from being naked, and you can feel his heated gaze traveling over your body as you walk towards his stairs with a teasing sway of your hips.

If you had known you were going to end your night shimmying down your little red dress in front of Bradley, you might have tried to wear something a bit more underneath it, just for him.

But there was no missing the intensity and the desire that was in his eyes as he had watched you strip before him. It was more than clear that liked what he saw.

The appreciative way Bradley was looking at you made your everyday underwear feel sexier than La Perla ever could.

You don’t get very far before your whole world tilts as you’re lifted off the ground and tossed over his broad shoulder.

“Oh my god, Bradley! Warn a girl.” The sound coming out of you part gasp, part laugh.

“Heads up, kid.” There is no missing the smug smile in his voice, as he grips you a little tighter.

You’re dangling behind him trying to support yourself on his lower back, a useless endeavor since every step he takes up the stairs only serves to make you lose your grasp.

“Are you sure you got a strong enough hold on my ass there, Bradshaw?” you complain flippantly.

You wiggle a little trying to alleviate some of the pressure on your stomach.

“Stop trying to distract me,” he grunts, digging his fingertips further into the fleshy muscle in a way you didn’t mind at all. “I’m carrying some precious cargo.”

He tops off the end of his sentence with a light swat of his hand on your other cheek like he would a cherry on a sundae. And you have to bite your lip to keep from making the noise that was trying to crawl it’s way out of your throat, one that would give away just how much you liked his strong hands on your ass.

Bradley stops at the first door on the left and bends a little as he eases you off his shoulder. You lean back against the wall watching self-indulgently as he straightens up in front of you.

There is nothing subtle about Bradley Bradshaw. Not the commanding way he enters a room. Not the force of his energetic smile. Not the powerful build of his body. And definitely not the way he is checking you out.

It’s your first time being up here, there’s never been a reason to come upstairs before. You can’t help but wonder if the spaces here have the same sense of functional practicality as his downstairs does. Everything has a purpose, but nothing has much of a personality.

And Bradley has the best personality.

Maybe if you ask nicely he will let you help him pick out some things to make his place feel more like a home. More like him.

Reaching out you thread a finger through one of his belt loops and tug him closer to you. Bradley grins as he comes to crowd you against the wall before leaning in to kiss you, his warm hands coming up to frame your face.

For the other men you’ve dated in the past, kissing was a means to an end. A mandatory part of foreplay to perform in order to speed things along. But with Bradley, he kisses you with a type of single-minded determinedness that always sends your heart racing.

He has never been the type to do anything half-heartedly. Kissing is the agenda. It is the main course. He is happy to take his time to savor the taste and feel of you. He’s not thinking about how quickly he can move on to the next thing. He kisses you like he couldn’t dream of doing anything else.

You have never felt so entirely treasured in your life as you do right now outside of his bedroom in his arms.

It’s hard to fight back the smile that makes it impossible for him to keep his lips on yours, and when he pulls back the look on his face is nothing short than pure fondness.

“I’m excited to have you like this,” you admit to him, soft and sure.

It would be a new first, a new moment, a new memory. His and yours alone.

“Yeah?” he asks with a gentle smile quirked to one side. “I am too.” He settles his hands on your hips, his thumbs skimming over the skin at right above the waistband of your panties. “We go at your speed, sweet girl. As much or as little as you want. Whatever you want is what I want too.”

“And if I want everything?”

“Then I’ll give you everything,” he promises, pulling you close to get his mouth on yours again. You could taste the unspoken always in his kiss.

There was still a small part of you that was nervous about what feelings could come up in the after, the worry that bittersweet what-ifs could color all of your perfect memories with him. But you were done with not letting yourself have everything you want with him.

And with one more indulgent kiss to his lips, you take his hand and lead the way into his bedroom.

Bradley lingers near the door as he watches you take in his bedroom. One could call it snooping, but he knew you’d have some other smart-assed term for it.

He had been able to tell that something was on your mind for a while. And the last thing he wanted to do was put pressure on this new thing between the two of you by making you talk about it before you were ready.

You had always been in his life, but when you moved to San Diego after living separate lives for over fifteen years, he couldn’t deny that it felt different being around you again. In a good way, in the best way.

And those terrible dates you went on had made him come to terms with his feelings much earlier than you. Bradley knew exactly what he wanted with you, and he would give you all the time you needed to get there too.

He is amused, but not surprised, when the first thing you do is go to investigate is his bookshelf. Your fingers skimming the spines as you read over the titles.

It’s mainly a collection of NATOPS manuals he’s memorized inside and out from the aircrafts he’s been trained to use and other technical handbooks, along with his old collection of the Hardy Boys, a few political biographies and mystery novels he hasn’t had the chance to read yet.

He had felt like such an idiot when he made that joke about sleeping with the enemy in your car on the way to the surprise movie date you had planned for him. He hadn’t missed the way your body had tensed up. Or how you would always pull back and stumble over some flimsy reason why you had to call it a night when things would get on the exciting side of too heated or too physical.

He knew that you would come around to telling him what was holding you back on your own time, he just didn’t expect it to be after you had come in his lap from rubbing yourself on him in that sinful dress of yours.

The one that taunted and tempted him from the second he had opened his door that night. The one now a heap somewhere on the floor of his living room.

“So why do men love bitches, Bradley?” The question shakes him from his musings.

You turn to him with a mischievous smile painted on your pretty face as you gleefully show off the book that he had completely forgotten about like you have hit the jackpot.

“How do I still have that?” He huffs a laugh crossing towards you, leaning on hip on his desk to get a closer look. “Nat give it to me after I broke up with my ex a few years ago, they never got along. She even drew some red flags on the paper she wrapped it in when she gave it to me.”

“Ah, that explains the inscription. ‘Know the playbook, so you don’t get played again.’” you read with a snort. “For what it’s worth, I never liked Paige either. She was always seemed like such a shit-stirrer. Good thing you came to your senses. He’s pretty and smart, folks.” You send him a playful little wink before you go back to your investigation of his room.

It’s not even a contest, you are his absolute favorite person in this world.

And you look so perfect, so real in your nude bra and white panties in his bedroom. He likes that this wasn’t planned, that he gets to have you so authentically. He wants you just as you are.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he can’t help but wonder a little self-consciously what his space must look like to you through your eyes as you wander around.

His room is a mismatched collection of furniture that people have passed along to him over the years. Stuff that others didn’t need or that they upgraded from to something newer and better. Everything else that wasn’t donated to him were easily assembled things from IKEA.

He didn’t mind it in here, but he’s also never particularly liked it. It’s always just been a place to sleep.

He has his sturdy wood bed frame against one wall, it creaks sometimes when he turns over but he that’s what he got for putting it together after a few of beers. There is large print hung above it so the wall wasn’t totally bare. Next to his bookcase was a desk and small filing cabinet. He has a spare room in his condo that he has been meaning to turn into an office, but this set up was familiar to him after so many years of living in the barracks.

But if you were going to be here with him, Bradley wanted you to be comfortable in his home. Maybe he could find a few new things for the room to make it nicer, cozier for you with stuff that wasn’t other peoples’ cast offs.

There was only one nightstand for fuck’s sake, which is where he watches you linger in front of now.

“Wait, Bradley. Is this…” you trail off, picking up the framed sheet music from his nightstand. Your finger traces over the upper righthand corner in the exact spot where he knows three vibrant blazing fireballs decorate the page.

Hand-drawn by a ten-year-old you.

They were overly cartoonish in the way that most kids’ drawings were at that age. But it was obvious you had spent time on it for him by the way the reds, oranges, and yellows of your colored penciled artwork had been perfectly blended.

“Yeah.” He has to clear his throat, “Yeah, it is.”

“I can’t believe you still have this,” you say quietly.

You had given him the book of sheet music that included his favorite crowd-pleasing song to play on the piano for his twelfth birthday. He had had the notes memorized for almost a decade before he had put it in a frame, he had wanted to have this reminder of home with him instead of sitting in a box somewhere.

Other than the mounted toy fighter jet his mom had given him, it was the only thing that he had always taken with him as he moved around the world from base to base.

He thought he had seen every expression that’s ever crossed your face, but you have never looked at him like quite like this before. Your face is filled with such tenderness and something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Well, you know what Marie Kondo says about things that sparks joy,” he jokes light-heartedly, trying to find his footing again.

“Is there anything else in here that sparks joy in here?” You put the frame back down, observing him with your head tilted to the side as you sat on his bed and leaned back on your hands. It did amazing things to your chest.

“I can think of one or two things,” he says, playing along. You look so perfect in his bed, it was going to feel too big without you in it now.

“Are you going to come join me? Or do you just want to keep on checking out my breasts from over there?” you ask teasingly, pushing yourself back further on top of his bed. Your feet are resting on the edge, knees knocked together swaying enticingly from side to side.

You are easily the prettiest thing in his room.

Bradley takes his time as he saunters over to come join you at the bed. But when he comes to stand at the edge of the mattress, you stop him with a dainty foot to his chest.

“That’s bold of you to assume you this is a clothing permitted establishment,” you say popping up onto your elbows, applying a bit more force to where you’re pressing into him.

“Is that so?” he hums. Wrapping his hand around your ankle, he lets his thumb circle over the rounded joint there. “You know you’re in my room, in my bed, right?”

“Mm-hmm. I’m very aware. I like how it smells like you in here.” He watches as your hand makes indistinguishable shapes on the top of his linen duvet, “I’ve got to say, I’m pretty sure I’ve the best view in the house right now.”

He rakes his eyes over your figure, “Hm, think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“You might be right,” you tell him cheekily, “My view could be so much better if you’d take some clothes off.”

“You sayin’ you want a show, kid?”

“I wouldn’t say no to one, if you are offering,” you say stretching like a satisfied cat. And there are those dimples of yours. If only you knew how just how gone he was for them.

“I can give you a show.” His voice is whiskey smooth as he squeezes your ankle.

Bradley holds your hot, greedy gaze as he removes his watch and sets it down on the nightstand. The way he undoes the buttons on his shirt could almost be called lazy if it weren’t for the purposeful way he watched your every shallow breath, as he listened to your unsteady exhales.

He has to tap on your foot to remind you to lift it off of his chest so that he can take his shirt off. You rest that foot high on his thigh instead, dangerously close to his quickly hardening cock. And then he is tugging his shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind him.

The fabric of his comforter is clenched tight beneath your fists.

Reaching behind his neck he grasps the collar of his tank, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion making sure that his biceps and abs are flexed for your benefit. If you wanted something to look at, he was going to give you an eyeful.

He lets out a satisfied sound as lets his hand indulgently, leisurely trail down his chest, down his abdomen as he watches you steadily. There is no reason for him to hold back his proud smirk when sees the way your lips part as he reaches the top of his jeans.

“How am I doing?” he drawls knowingly.

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he languidly unbuckles his belt.

“Good. Yeah, very good.” He sees the way you swallow hard as he begins to pull it out from his belt loops. The thick tension building between the two of you has his pulse pounding.

He likes the desire he sees reflected in your eyes as you take him in, “I’d leave you at least four-stars on Yelp.”

Bradley lets his belt fall to the floor, it lands with a satisfying clunk. Your eyes fly to his at the sound.

“Mm, only four-stars? Such a tough critic,” he muses lightly as he casually runs his finger up and down your calf. “What’s a guy gotta do to get five?”

You’re devouring him with your eyes and he wants to take over the way you’re nibbling on your lower lip with his teeth. “Drop the denim, Bradshaw.”

“You’re right, it’s only fair,” he concedes, admiring the way your nipples are raised against the cups of your bra. He teases a finger under the black elastic band that is peeking out from over the top of his favorite jeans, “I’m telling you now that what’s under these isn’t anywhere as pretty as what you’ve got on.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much,” you say as primly as possible given how affected you are, pressing your foot harder into the muscle of his thigh. “Plus, I think you’re plenty pretty.”

God, he loves that he gets to have you like this.

That even when you’re both half naked and riled up you can still banter with each other. That he can still make you smile and you can still make him laugh all while the undercurrent of need pulses around you.

“Bradley, come on.” The hint of whine that accompanies the way you say his name goes straight to his cock. He wouldn’t mind hearing you beg sweetly for him sometime, but not tonight.

He was going to give you whatever you wanted.

“Patience, sweet girl. I’m putting on a show here, remember?” he tells you with a playful grin as he bends over your body to kiss you deeply. Your legs part for him and come up to hug his hips. When he pulls away after a few moments you move to sit up, chasing the feeling of his mouth on yours. But he puts a hand to your sternum pressing you back down onto his bed with his fingertips before standing up to his full height above you.

The silence in the room is deafening as he unbuttons the top of his jeans. And then he is slowly pulling his zipper down for you.

Your heart is hammering as Bradley peels off those form-fitting jeans of his strong legs.

His body is a work of art. You could stare for hours and still find something new to admire. From the rounded definition of his shoulders, the smattering of chest hair between his full pectorals, the ridges and valleys of his abs, to the v-shaped muscles that lead your eyes directly to the outline of his hard, thick cock that you’re getting an up-close look at for the first time.

It looks as good as the rest of him does.

“Good god,” you groan, covering your eyes. “Honestly, Bradley?” The sound of his deep, warm chuckle has you pulling your hands away from your face, he is clearly amused by your reaction. “Be serious with me right now, that is totally how you got your callsign, isn’t it?” Gesturing to his sizable cock with a wave of your hand.

“I’ve told you that story before,” he tells you as he climbs on the bed and settles next to you.

“You’ve told me a story, but I’ve never believed it.” You turn on your side to fully face him, throwing one of your legs over him as nonchalantly as possible, as if it was totally normal to be half-naked in his bed with him. “‘I was just the only morning person on my squad’,” you say lowering your voice mimic his, “I don’t buy it. Not to mention, Natasha always made a face whenever you told that version to someone who was flirting with you.”

“Fine, you really wanna know?” he asks as he squeezes your hip. His cheeks are already lightly flushed, and now you’re downright giddy about this new development. It’s not often you get to see him so bashful around you.

“I knew you were withholding important information from me, Rooster,” you trill.

He grunts something unintelligible before he has you gasping when he grips your thigh and rolls over, pinning you underneath him.

And oh. You like the feel of him pressed against you.

There is something comforting about the weight of his hard, sunkissed body as he relaxes more fully on you. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he was built but the sheer sturdiness of him and how he fits with you like this is so good it’s dizzying.

He really is so handsome. With his face this close to yours, you can see every shade of brown in his pretty eyes. You bring a hand up to his face, letting your fingers brush over the coarse hairs of his mustache.

“Don’t think that just because you manhandled me, that you’re off the hook here. I’m not so easily distracted.” It’s a lie, but you think you pull it off well.

“Ok, ok,” he relents, kissing your fingertips then guiding your hand around to the base of his neck. “There are usually two versions of the story that pilots will tell, the one that makes them look good and the one that actually happened. But most pilots get their callsign from doing something stupid or screwing something up.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” you say with a teasing grin. “Which category do you fall in?”

“Believe it or not, both,” he admits ruefully. A small boyish smile on his face.

“Oh, I believe it,” you beamed.

“So,” he continues, with a fond shake of his head, “There was a girl I used to hook up with in my squadron. We had a friends with benefits type thing for a while when we were first deployed.” That made you scrunch you nose, he chuckles leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But she was always, uh, loud. Especially when I would go down on her.” He says that last part in a rush, almost like he is trying to gloss over it.

It wasn’t a secret to you that Bradley had gotten around, you had heard the whispers when you visited him at UVA and in the bathroom at the Hard Deck when you had first moved here. And it wasn’t like you had been sitting on your couch knitting like some Jane Austen spinster, you have had your fun too.

“Mmm-hmm.” You stroke his leg with your foot encouraging him to continue.

He is entirely adorable in the way he full-blown blushing now as he tries so hard not to fidget, even as his fingers idly play with the strap of your bra.

“We were fooling around early one morning after she has stayed over. Which I am sure you can guess, that kind of socializing was very much frowned upon,” he allows with a sheepish dip of his head. “As it turned out, one of the Petty Officers decided to do a surprise barracks inspection that morning. And, uh, well, we didn’t hear his arrival and the announcement or any of the noise in the hallway-”

“Because you’re good with your mouth,” you gleefully interject.

“You said it not me, kid,” he says nudging your cheek with his nose. You are grinning so wide now because he is getting so flustered as his story goes on. “So fast forward to us getting caught in the act. They let her run back to her own barrack, but I had to stand there at attention for the whole inspection in my boxer briefs with a hard-on.

The mental image of that was equal parts amusing and appealing, especially after the show he just gave you.

“And since my clothes were still on the ground from the night before, I got an auto-fail for having gear adrift. They even called in some of the guys from my unit to double check the inspection results and make an example out of my, um, indiscretion. After that, well, Rooster stuck.”

“I knew it!” you hoot before bursting into a fit of laughter. “I knew there had to be an X-rated reason, you dirty bird. Oh my god, Bradley! No wonder why Nat can’t keep a straight face.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he chuckles good-naturedly, his eyes crinkling in the corner. “There you have it, that’s the whole story. And just so you know, it is literally on the record that I was an early riser when I got written up for it. So technically that part is true.”

“In more ways than one,” you titter with a lewd wiggle of your eyebrows.

He looks up to the ceiling and groans, “How long are you going to tease me about this, kid?”

You make a big show about doing the math in your head until he nips at your collarbone.

“Probably for as long as you’ve had your callsign, I’ve got a few years to catch up on. It’s only fair since you lied to me, your best friend, for so long. I’m wounded,” you lament unconvincingly.

“I had an image as a responsible adult to maintain.” That makes you snort as you wrap both of your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you.

You half-heartedly roll your eyes, “I’m only two years younger than you.”

“Mm, that makes you the baby here,” he hums against your neck. “Wasn’t gonna give you the full version back then, not when you had such impressionable ears.”

His body is so warm, so solid against yours. And his thigh is pressing into the center of you. You’re surprised how quickly he can go from making you laugh to making you squirm.

“You know what I don’t get?” you muse tugging on his curls.

He runs mustache along your neck, “Enlighten me.”

“Why would they punish you when they could have just made you pose for the cover of a Navy pamphlet? Seems a little shortsighted, if you ask me,” you quip, a bit breathlessly. “I mean, they’d be turning down new recruits left and right. Everyone would be so inspired to serve their country. Propaganda with a side of eye candy.”

Bradley pinches your waist, making you yelp and rock against him. He sucks in a sharp breath at the contact. The mood shifting instantly from playful into something else entirely.

“You like what you see, huh?” He shifts his weight into his arms, lifting up a bit. Not only do you have a stellar view of his abs now, but also of his defined biceps by your head.

“Are you fishing for compliments, Rooster?” You glide your fingers along the crests of his ribs.

“I don’t mind getting my ego stroked every now and then.”

“What about other things?” you murmur, sliding your hand in between your bodies to grasp him through his boxer briefs.

He groans your name before claiming your mouth for a hot kiss.

“Come on, Bradley. I want the full experience,” you pant against his lips, “I heard how the girls talked about you.”

“I’ve learned a few more things since then,” he rasps, grinding himself more fully against you.

“Good, I’d hope so. Now, show me.”

Show me. Show me. Show me.

He can’t keep his mouth or hands in one place for too long. He wants to taste you everywhere. He wants to touch you everywhere.

You are looking at him with such open want. Your pupils blown wide, your lips kiss-swollen. He was unprepared for just how perfect your body would feel under his. You’re so beautiful spread out before him on his bed. Green might be his favorite color on you, he was biased, but you looked stunning pillowed against his navy duvet.

He had told you he’d give you anything you wanted and he meant it. If you wanted the full experience then he was going to give you the best damn time of your life.

Bradley licks his lips before lowering his head back down for a kiss, moaning at the slide of your wet, soft lips against his. He loves the sound your needy whine as you cant your hips against him.

You tilt your neck to the side giving him more room to get his mouth on the delicate column of your throat. The smell of your perfume and shampoo makes his blood thrum in his veins. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this desperate for someone in his life as he is for you.

He slips his hand around your ribcage and under you, groaning when your breasts rub against his chest as you arch into him. He runs his fingers along the band of your bra feeling for the little clasps that are preventing you from being bared before him.

After the third pass he makes, you pull away from his mouth with a little grin, “Bradley, it’s a front clasp”. Taking pity on him you guide his hand to the shiny little closure resting in the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles self-deprecatingly toying with it for a second before asking, “You mean to tell me this is both pretty and functional?”

Your giggle turns into a whimper when he flicks it open and pulls it off of you. Tossing it somewhere to be discovered later.

And then his is finally, finally getting to see you in the way he’s spent many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock imagining.

“How are you so soft everywhere?” he murmurs tracing a finger down your bare sternum. He rubs his mustache over the sensitive tips of your pebbled nipples before claiming one with his mouth.

Your hands fly to his hair as he sucks and teases this newly uncovered part of you. He moans as you start grinding against him in earnest before switching over to the other, his hand coming up to cup and squeeze the taut bud that was wet and shiny from his mouth.

The sounds you are making are nothing like he has ever heard from you before. And he can’t wait to spend hours with your body learning all the things that make you whimper and whine and sigh.

With one more flick of his tongue against your nipple, he trails hungry kisses down your neck. He stops once to admire the little freckle high on your right ribcage before continuing his way down your body. He likes how easily your legs fall open for him as he settles himself at the center of you. At how much trust you are handing over to him.

“You still doing good, sweet girl?” he asks into the crease of your thigh.

“So, so good,” you exhale roughly. One of your hands is skimming along the skin of his shoulders, your delicate finger stroking over the scar there. “Five-stars, Bradley. Easily.”

“Mm, you sure I deserve that? Haven’t done anything to earn it,” he hums, teasing kisses along the lace edge of your white panties. “Haven’t even made you come yet.”

“Bradley.”

“Can I take these off and make you come with my mouth?” He slides a finger under the elastic band. “Can I earn that five-stars?”

“Yes, yes,” you nod rapidly, “I want that.”

Bradley slides his thumbs under the sides of your perfectly practical panties and starts to pull the last of your clothing off. He’s dreamt about you naked and on display for him, he is eager to discover every freckle, every mole, every scar on you.

You are almost revealed to him when he stops. His eyes snag on a spot on the inside of your right hipbone. A tattoo.

The tattoo.

He remembers the night at the Hard Deck when he had learned about its existence with picture perfect clarity.

Fanboy had been showing off the fresh ink on his forearm for the full sleeve he was in the process of getting, which had then turned into display of skin as his friends pulled up and rolled up their clothes to share their own. It was probably for the best that he had an aversion to needles or else he probably could have ended up with some misspelled Latin phrase like Payback had along his forearm.

Just as Hangman had finished tugging his shirt back down, he had turned towards you at the tall stool you were sitting on and asked, “What about you, darlin’? Anything to share with the class?”

There was gleam in his eye that Bradley had not appreciated in the slightest. Especially since he had made it perfectly clear that his best friend was off limits to the group of cocky aviators.

You had only relocated to San Diego a couple of months ago, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed living in the same area as you. And you were already fitting in with everyone like you’d been there for years.

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” you shrugged taking a sip of your drink while he nearly choked on his.

“What? No, you don’t,” he asserted as he elbowed Hangman out of the spot he was leaning on next to you.

“Uh, yeah, I definitely do.”

He didn’t get why you were looking at him like he had a second head. You were his best friend, that’s something that definitely would have come up in conversation at some point if you did have one. Right?

“I’ve never seen one on you,” he’d said adamantly.

He eyes quickly traveled over your body, you were in some laidback loose-fitting jeans with rips in them and a creamy colored knit tank top, as he looked for any hint of ink on your skin.

“Well, you wouldn’t,” you said like the reason should be completely obvious to him.

You kicked out at him in annoyance. He caught your foot easily with his hand, and gave it a quick, sharp tug in warning. Smirking at you when you gasped and scrambled to hold onto the stool, “What does that mean?”

“It means it’s not for the viewing public, Rooster,” you huffed at him.

“Sounds like there’s a story here,” Nat interrupted, looking on with keen eyes.

Yanking your leg out of his hand, you went on to tell the story about how you had gotten it done one drunken night at a house party your junior year of college. A “silly, girly thing” was all you’d had to say about it.

“Sounds like you’re lucky you didn’t get hepatitis or a staph infection,” he grumbled. You took the beer out of his hand in retribution and claimed it as your own, while throwing him the middle finger as you took a swig. And he’d let you.

“If it makes you feel better, bird boy, the guy who gave it to me now works at a pretty popular tattoo shop in New York.”

It hadn’t and he never forgot about it.

There had been more than one occasion where he had caught himself looking at you a bit too closely in a swimsuit from behind his aviators at the beach trying to get a glimpse of it.

And now he finally knew.

His fingertips are drawn to the fine, dainty lines of the ink on your skin. The pair of delicate butterflies were placed discreetly on your lower pelvis. One looked like it was in mid-flight with its wings spread wide, while the other was waiting to take off and join it.

“These are pretty, they suit you,” he murmurs leaning in to touch his lips to them. “Definitely not for the viewing public.”

“Just you, Bradley,” you agreed, setting your hands on top of his where on your hips. And together you both work off that last bit of fabric off your body.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky, sweet girl.” He kisses your pretty tattoo once more, then the spot below your bellybutton, the top of your pubic bone.

“You said you’d give me your mouth,” you whisper eagerly, your fingers carding through his hair. He loves the way your nails felt against his scalp.

“Whatever you want.” A reminder of the promise he had made to you in the hallway, before he even had you in his bed.

He inches himself even closer to your body, getting one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you to his hungry eyes. This part of you, just like your butterflies, was for his eyes and fingers and mouth alone.

He parts you with his tongue enjoying your little whimper and gives you a couple slow licks as he gets acquainted with your taste. He wants to savor you like a fine wine, to identify all the individual notes that made up the essence of you.

You’re already so wet for him.

And then he is exploring your pretty pussy with unrestrained enthusiasm. Using his tongue and lips to get you squirming before introducing his fingers. Your moans are better than any kind of music as he starts rubbing your clit with gentle precision.

His chest fills with smoky coils of masculine satisfaction as you prop yourself onto your elbows to get a better look at him as he works you with mouth. He holds your intense gaze when he slips one of his fingers inside the silky center of you.

Bradley can feel his heart beating in his throat as he watches your jaw drops in pleasure as you start to lose yourself to his mouth, “Tell me what you like.”

You’re so responsive to his touch. Your knee is trembling on his shoulder as he tries out long, smooth strokes and short, curling thrusts of his fingers determined to learn what makes your toes curl.

“I’ve never—,” you start before stopping, shaking your head.

“Never what, sweet girl?” he repeats, patiently looking up at you from between your legs. He is still circling your clit with his thumb as you work to find your words.

“I’ve never been able to come this way,” you confess like it’s something you’re embarrassed about. “But it feels really good. I just don’t want you to think I’m not enjoying this with you when I can’t get there.”

The burst of red-hot irritation that hits him like truck for all the men who have failed you in the past makes his jaw clench. Men who would prioritize their pleasure over yours.

He knows he is capable of getting you there. He wants to show you, to prove to you just exactly how capable he is about giving you the pleasure you deserve. It’s what he would give you every single time.

“Can I try?” Bradley waits until you nod your head yes, still propped up watching him. He places a kiss to your inner thigh in thanks for trusting him with this. “Tell me what makes you feel good,” he coaxes, “Tell me what you need from me.”

He’s tempted to suck hard enough to leave an indelible mark at the delicate skin of your perfect thigh. He wants you think about being back in his bed with him, when you’re at your apartment in your own bed. He just nips at the spot instead, before kissing it again.

“Can I give you another finger?” he asks.

“Please.” You whimper when runs his thumbnail across your clit before he gives you another one of his fingers.

“So polite,” he teases as he gets his mouth back on you. “I’ll give it to you right.” You clench against his fingers as they sweep against your front wall.

He is so hard, but all he can think about is how good you feel under his hands, under his mouth.

He is watching your face for every expression. He wants to know which motion of his fingers makes your breath catch in your throat. He wants to know what kind of touch makes your eyebrow pinch together and gasp.

Yes. There. More. Just like that.

It doesn’t take him long to get you writhing and keening for him as explores your body as you tell him exactly what you like.

“That, Bradley, that. Don’t stop, please.”

Your pupils are blown wide as you watch him tease his tongue against your clit with a pressure so gentle it makes your whole body shiver. He moans his contentment against your slick-shined center when you reach out to cup his jaw and stroke his cheek with your hand when he finds that spongey spot inside of you.

Your head falls back and you convulse spectacularly as you come with his tongue on you and his fingers in you.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises low and rough, “So fucking pretty when you come.”

Bradley hopes you can feel his grin against the soft skin of your thigh.

He lets you bask in the warm glow of your orgasm, all while his thumb keeps making the softest of circles against you, “Think you can do it again?”

Your heart is still beating erratically in your chest as you attempt to come down from your orgasm. You still can’t believe he made you come with his mouth in the first place, let alone that he thinks he can get you there again.

And when he puts his hot mouth back on you, your arms give out and you fall back against his soft duvet, “Fuck, Bradley, oh my god.” The feel of his mustache against that sensitive part of you was overwhelming.

Bradley works you like he is trying to erase the memory of any man before him.

The only other sound in the room besides your breathy panting was the wet sounds your body was making as his fingers curled and thrust in and out of you. You’d be embarrassed by it if was anyone else other than Bradley.

Because he is the one making you feel this good.

The coiling sensation in your stomach was tightening with every lick and suck and flick of the tongue he used to bring you closer to the edge. You savored the burn in your hip flexors as his thick forearms held you open for his talented mouth.

“Sorry,” you gasp, unable to control the way your hips roll against his mouth.

“Don’t be. Do it again,” he rasps, gripping your thigh harder, “Use my mouth.”

He hums in satisfaction when you do it again, this time on purpose at his command. The vibrations against your clit reverberate through your whole body as you rock against his mouth and ride his fingers.

The woodsy smell of his bed, the sound of his voice and dirty praise, the feel of his body on yours was building you up much quicker than before. Your hands were fluttering everywhere. In his hair. On your breasts. Tangling in his sheets.

You are hyperaware of his every touch and it has you feeling high strung. You’re there teetering having been built up so stunningly. Your body is pulled taut like piano wires with unreleased pleasure that you just can’t seem to reach.

One of his warm, comforting hands soothes up and down the side of your waist as you twitch and writhe beneath him.

“C’mon, kid. You’re there, I can feel it,” he says pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your tattoo before sealing his mouth over you again. “Want you to come for me.”

For him. For Bradley. You want to come for Bradley.

It is almost instinctual how your body responds when he laces the fingers of his free hand together with yours. You have been feeling so untethered in your own skin by the promise of another deliciously devastating orgasm. The squeeze of his hand is your gravity, anchoring you back in the moment with him

And he is holding more than your hand in his as you fly apart for him. He has your heart.

You can hear his gentle murmurs, but your brain can’t process anything other than a few choice words as he peppers kisses back up your body.

He leans over reaching for the forgotten half-full water glass on his nightstand, probably some misguided attempt to be courteous, but you need his mouth on yours right now. He makes a noise of surprise as you pull him to you, your mouth is already parted and ready to chase the taste of yourself off of his tongue.

It’s slow and languid and just what you need.

“I’ve never come so hard before,” you laugh pulling away from him after a few minutes, the endorphins hitting you hard. “You should lead with that. Bradley-Gives-Great-Head-Rooster-Bradshaw.”

His eyes glimmer with amusement, “I don’t think that would fit on a helmet, but you can introduce me that way if you want.” His voice is smug, but it’s his satisfied smirk that thrills you the most.

“Oh my god, you’re preening! You’re so pleased with yourself right now,” you giggle, your thumbs stroking over his mustache at the wetness still there.

“Damn right I am,” he rasps leaning in for another lingering kiss.

Bradley kisses you like a wildfire, all unrestrained heat. And you will happily burn for him. Under his touch you are regenerated, reenergized, revived.

“I want you,” you breathe into his neck, tugging on the band of his black boxer briefs. His body was already a visual treat and his heart even better, but you want to feel him against the center of you with nothing standing between your body and his.

You don’t want to want anymore, you want to know.

With your help, he pulls them down his strong thighs and off completely. You’re treated to the reminder of just how big he is, it would almost be intimidating if you weren’t so desperate for him.

You run your hand up and down the length of him. He was right that night on the phone, you’d need to use both hands next time.

Savoring the way he drops his head down and pants into your clavicle, the coarse hairs of his mustache rough on your skin in the best way. With your other hand, you play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. His biceps quaking from where they’re rooted on his mattress next to your head.

You want to make him feel as good as you do.

“Can I go down on you?”

Your mouth would be the end of him.

“Next time,” he grunts out. He’s barely able to think with the way your hand is stroking his cock, let alone speak.

“Haven’t you thought about my mouth on you? Come on, Bradley,” you purr temptingly. You both know you’re not playing fair when you tighten your grip on him.

“Shit.” He’s breathing hard now. “Of course, I have. I thought about it this morning when I got myself off in the shower, sweet girl.”

He’s treated to both the sight of your dimples and the clever twist of your wrist at his confession. He knows you think you’re going to get your way, like you usually do, so he changes tactics, “I promise, the next round you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Already planning for round two, huh?”

“Yeah, kid,” he says hoarsely, “Did you think this was just going to be one and done?”

You collect some of the precum from the tip of his cock with your thumb and lick it off as you look up at him doe-eyed and innocent, “Well then, I hope you can keep up, Lieutenant.”

A feral groan rips from him and he drops his head down to yours feeding you his tongue. He dominates your mouth as he slides and swirls his against yours. You whimper prettily as both flavors melt across your tongue.

“Do you like the way we taste?” he rumbles, his voice like gravel.

Bradley doesn’t know how to interpret the sound you make or the way you choke out oh my god.

“Sorry, too much?” he asks raggedly, checking in. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable because he can’t stop from running his mouth.

“God, no. I’ve never been so turned on, Bradley,” you pant, as you rock your warm, wet pussy against him. “Don’t want you to hold back with me.”

You’re both naked and it’s no secret how this night is going to end. He loses himself to the feel of you as you roll your hips against him, whining every time the head of his cock connects with your swollen clit.

“Hold on, hold on,” he doesn’t know why he feels nervous bringing it up, but he needs too while he still has the brain function to talk about it. “I’ve got condoms. It’s been awhile for me, but I got a new box in my bathroom. I just need to go grab them.”

He moves to get up, but you tighten your hold on him.

“I’m on the pill. I, um, got back on it after our first date,” you say almost bashfully. “So if you wanted to go, ah, without it would be ok. I would be fine with it if you didn’t wear one. More than fine, actually.”

There’s something about your endearing self-conscious babbling that helps him get out of his head, “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything, always. You know that,” you tell him, nudging your nose against his.

“I haven’t done this without one before,” he admits.

And it’s clear from the way your eyebrows spring up that this surprises you, “Wait, never?”

“Never,” Bradley confirms. He brings your hand up to his chest so you can feel how fast his heart is beating.

While he’s had a couple serious girlfriends in the past, one didn’t like the way the pill made her feel and the other didn’t like the mess. It was never a big deal to him as long as everyone felt good. He liked that extra layer of protection, he never liked the idea of potentially getting someone pregnant and leaving them to care for his child when his job was so unpredictable.

And with one-night stands, the use of a condom was never even a question.

“So, I get to be your first?” A delighted grin overtakes your face, as you affectionately run you hand through his hair.

“If you want,” he offers softly.

“I want it to be me,” you say with such sincerity it makes his chest ache.

You pull him back down to you and wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to you. The two of you are a frenzy of wandering hands and teasing tongues and needy noises.

“How do you want me?” he asks, low and velvety.

“I’ve imagined everything,” you whisper, your thumb caressing the long scar from where your hands are cupped around the side of his neck. “But I want you like this, just like this.”

He has always been wrapped around your finger, but with your hand on his cock guiding him to the center of you, he is at your mercy.

You trusted Bradley to be gentle not only with your body, but also with your heart. You were safe in his stupidly big and unfairly perfect hands.

There’s no holding back the sharp inhale as his thick, flared tip enters you for the first time. He’s barely inside of you and the way he is filling you is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before.

The low whine he makes as he slides into you without anything in-between your bodies is the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard. You are impossibly wetter at the knowledge that you are the one to make him feel this good, that it’s your body he’s experiencing this with for the first time.

Your eyes flutter close at the sheer stretch of him as he presses further into you.

Slowly, gently, deliberately.

“No,” he roughly rasps, pausing half-way inside of you, “Look at me.”

His desperate tone sets off more goosebumps over your body. With no small effort on your part, you do as he wants.

He looks just as overwhelmed as you feel. The flush from his cheeks and neck has worked its way down his broad chest, there’s a sheen of sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat and you want to lick him there.

“Want you to keep your eyes on me.”

You fight the urge to squirm as he slowly serves you the rest of his cock. He’s intensely watching your reaction to every ridge, every vein, every thick inch of him as he makes encouraging circles with his thumbs over your hipbones.

If you were to close your eyes again, you know you’d be seeing stars. But how could you when he was looking at you with such wonder.

You are nearly undone by the sensation of being so entirely wanted and cherished and lo—

“Bradley,” you whimper, unguarded under his gaze.

Every emotion is pounding away inside of you, eager for its turn in the spotlight.

“I know, I know.” His voice is rough and wrecked.

You can feel what he really means. We’re right on time.

Your heart stumbles over itself when he tenderly kisses the damp skin of your temple when his hips finally, finally press against yours.

And for a moment you two just hold each other’s eyes as you get used to being connected with each other in the most intimate of ways.

Your mind was taking snapshots of everything, you didn’t want to forget a single moment of this. All these little details of him that belonged to you. The length of his eyelashes. The flush of his cheeks. The state of his pretty wavy hair made messy by your hands. The pinch of his brow. The exact shade of his whiskey brown eyes as he stared into your eyes.

It is almost too intimate the way he is looking at you when he starts moving above you. As he took in your every dewy blink, every hitch of your breath, every little sound you made. As he slowly, purposefully rolled his hips against yours.

That untethered feeling was settling over you again. “Bradley, need you to kiss me.” You feel his hands tighten on your waist. He was inside of you, but you needed him closer. “Please, please.”

His lips are on yours like a flash. “Anything,” he murmurs in between deep, thorough kisses. “Anything you want.” You take his tongue just like you take the rest of him.

You’re on the right side of too full and he is hot and heavy inside of you. It is dizzying being this stretched around him, this surrounded by him. You can feel everything. The orgasm that sneaks up on you is a silvery, shimmery thing that coasts over you like stardust.

“Fuck,” he groans as your pussy lightly flutters around him, slowing down his thrusts to draw it out for you.

You recover quickly, the sensation that swept over you was not nearly as intense as the ones that he gave you with his mouth and fingers, but no less satisfying.

“Of course, you’re good at this too,” you laugh breathily.

He huffs one of his own in response, his mouth pulling crookedly to the side, “I told you we’d be good together.” He props himself up higher with his forearms from where they were lovingly, protectively caged around your head, “You feelin’ good, sweet girl?”

“So good, it’s so good, Bradley.”

You can feel his grin when he makes your back arch from hitting you just right. Grasping onto his thick biceps, your fingers dig into the corded muscle there. All you can do is let the rhythm take the lead as he picks up the pace again.

It’s hard to draw a full breath. Whether from being so filled by him or from the pressure building in your chest you couldn’t say.

He is everywhere, but it still isn’t enough. You don’t know if you want more or you need less. If you need him to go slower or if it’s not fast enough. You’re so overwhelmed, it’s just so overwhelming how good he is making you feel.

“Bradley, I need, I need-” you can’t even finish your sentence before you’re making a noise of frustration.

“Shh, it’s ok. I got you, kid.” He tosses your legs over his shoulders and raises up to his knees. Lifting your hips up as he reaches over to grab a pillow and slides it underneath you.

Next powerful thrust of his hips has you feeling like you are going to vibrate out of your skin.

Bradley has always been a big fan of mutually assured orgasms, but he had no idea sex could be this good. He has never felt so in sync or connected like this with anyone else ever.

And the way you feel around him with nothing separating his body from yours was indescribable. Only you had the ability make him feel this good.

He wanted your heartbeat to syncopate to the syllables of his name like his did with yours.

“Fuck, fuck. That feels so good,” you stutter out. The new change of angle has you even tighter for him as the sounds of your bodies coming together fill the room. “B-bradley.” a thrust “Your pillow.” a grind “The mess.”

“Fuck the pillow, I’ll get a new one,” he grunts. He clearly isn’t doing his job if you’re concerned about something as inconsequential as some feathers surrounded by cotton.

And then his loses himself in your whimpers and whines and the feel of your perfect-for-him body. In the silky warmth of you. Of his hands on your waist, on your hips, on your ass.

He has to remind himself this is the first time of many. He’s been dying to have you in every way possible for weeks. He wants to know if you sound the same as you do right now beneath him or if your sweet noises changed whether you were above him or on your hands and knees in front of him.

He couldn’t wait to find out.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises. You clench around him and his hips nearly falter in the slow, steady rhythm he has set, “Mm, of course you like a compliment.”

Bradley leans down to kiss you and you cry out at the change of position. Good girl. He teases his mustache down your neck, licking along the straining tendon of your neck. Pretty girl. And then he has he mouth on your breast again. Sweet girl.

The position is perfect for him to grind against your clit. The sounds of your soft sighs, of your breathy moans, and your shaky exhales as he hits that spot inside of you just right has him fighting the urge to chase his own release. And he can’t hold back his own sounds of satisfaction when your hot mouth trails along his collarbone, your tongue laving over that scar on his shoulder.

“I can feel you’re holding back,” you urge. “More, give me more.” One of your hands goes to his ass encouraging him to go faster.

“I’m trying to be romantic here,” he only partly teases, as he rolls his hips in that way he now knows makes you gasp.

“You are, you are,” you promise as you pet the side of his face. “But Bradley, I need you to romantically fuck me harder.”

Only you could make him laugh and make his cock stiffer all at the same time.

He’s never been one to deny you. He sits up on his knees again and flings one of your legs over the crook of his elbow, opening you up and giving him more room to give you just what you want.

“Look at you, I can’t believe you’re mine,” he groans. He can’t tear his eyes away from the way your tits bounce as he gives it to you harder, faster, deeper. “Touch yourself for me.” The only thing he can think about was getting you over the edge, so that he could follow you.

He nearly comes at the pretty sight of your fingers making rapid circles on your clit. His hips are rocking into yours roughly, and the way you are whimpering his name is ratcheting his need for you even higher.

Your mouth feels too far away, he wants to taste his name on your lips. He drops back down caging you in his arms. The two of you groan together, he’s much deeper this way. Your hands are fisted in his hair, pulling tightly at his curls as you sweep your tongue against his.

There’s no way he’s going to last with you gripping him like this. He can already feel the tension building in his spine. He knocks your hand out of the way as he takes over the ministrations on your clit, rubbing you there with tight circles.

“Bradley,” you gasp and writhe desperately against him. The way you chant his name sounds so breathy and perfect in his ear as he speeds up the motion of his fingers needing you to come undone.

And then he feels as you spasm and arch and come apart for him with his name on your lips.

bradleybradleybradley

The blood is buzzing in his veins and his breathing has gone entirely ragged as he continues to move in you until you go soft in his arms with a full-bodied sigh.

And then he gives into the desperate way his body needs yours as he chases his own climax.

He presses his face into the curve of your neck, mouthing at whatever skin he can reach as he comes. Nothing has ever felt so good to him as it does emptying himself inside of you, as he thrusts deeper into you as your body convulses around his.

It’s an earth-shattering orgasm that takes and takes and takes.

You don’t know how long you and Bradley lay there tangled up in each other, all heated skin and rapid heartbeats. It’s the most you can do to run your hand through his damp hair from where his head is still tucked against your neck and up and down his muscular back.

He’s long since pulled out of you and you can feel him dripping out of you. But if Bradley isn’t worried about the mess, then neither are you.

You’re still getting use to the weight of him. Still getting use to the shape of your bodies pressed against each other in this way. But it’s better than you could have ever hoped for.

He’s better than you could have hoped for. In every way that mattered.

“So, same time, same place tomorrow?” you ask finding your voice first. You can feel his chuckle as he kisses your neck once, then twice before he pulls away to look at you.

His brown eyes are rimmed with hazel and crinkled around the edges. All the affection and happiness and familiarity evident on his flushed face.

And then he smiles at you. And you know you’re wearing a matching one.

And then you giggle. And he lets out a laugh as he reaches up to softly brush the sweaty strands of hair away from your face.

“You know what’s not fair?” He lets out a hmm of acknowledgement for you to continue as his thumb traces your cheekbone. “You’ve got all these nicknames for me, but I don’t have one for you. Should we try some on for size?” you croon against his ear. Feeling very pleased with yourself when the heavy hand resting on your hip tenses in response.

You kiss along his jaw. Honey. Over his cheek. Baby. On the corner of his perfect mouth. Sweetheart.

“Bradley,” he murmurs looking at you softly.

“Bradley?” You repeat it back to him. Not questioning, but there’s a curiosity there. You love the way he leans in into your touch as you comb your fingers through his waves.

He nods and you’re hit with a wave of affection for this man in your arms. Your Bradley.

“Ok, Bradley,” you say indulgently as you drop a lingering kiss to his lips. “I can work with that.”

And then you’re whispering his name and alternating kisses to his skin, his stomach tensing and flexing as you work your way down his body.

Not one to break his promises to you, he keeps to his word and lets you whatever you want.

After you’ve gotten your way and after he’s gotten his again, you’re wrapped up in his strong arms tangled in his sheets. You’ve never been more satisfied in your life than you are with him here and now, warm and cared for.

You’re too contented in the blissful after you had been so needlessly worried about to fight sleep as it comes to claim you.

Will you two stay intertwined like this all night? Or will he chase you across the bed like he has been chasing you in your dreams?

Snuggling in closer to Bradley, you think about how excited you are to wake up next to him in the morning. Knowing him, he will probably be up before you, hopefully waiting with a steaming cup of coffee for you.

With his soft breaths in your ear, you let yourself drift off to the sweet potential and possibilities of tomorrow.

There’s so much to look forward to.

More of Bradley, more with Bradley.

The two of you are perfectly and exactly on time.

This was written as the part of a series for characters in the “Like I Can” Universe. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here!

They’re right on time, and boy, was it worth the wait!

If you’re curious about what Bradley’s room looks like, you can check it out here! (I’ve updated it to include some headcanons)

I wrote this little series as a birthday gift to my favorite Taurus Moon twin @gretagerwigsmuse! It only took a couple months, Jordan, but its the gift that keeps on giving!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

2K notes · View notes

diorsluv · 5 months

Text

feather , part 23

“ like a feather, like a feather, like a feather ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( second post is based off of the request/ask “oh my god what if she doesn’t go to the lake house cause she thought luke and the girl were going to be there but the girl wasn’t there, so she went to a different place for the summer for no reason :(” )

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by dylanduke25, trevorzegras, _quinnhughes, and 104,680 others

yourusername i need these cakes and i need them now

view all comments

luca.fantilli is that charles leclerc 🤨

→ yourusername yes what about it

→ colecaufield oh god don’t remind her

→ jackhughes calm down cole it was lando norris not leclerc 🙄🙄

→ yourusername i would actually really appreciate it if you baked me a cake and put an edible photo of carlos sainz on it

→ trevorzegras first of all yourusername you’re delusional and he’s like 10 years older than you

→ yourusername incorrect but proceed 😒

→ colecaufield and also your obsession is getting scary

→ yourusername IT WAS A JOKEEEE 🙄

username36 wondering how luke feels about this

username17 i just know luke’s punching the air

username26 luke’s prob sayin “why am i not on those cakes”

username92 if i don’t get a cake like that i’m throwing hands

mackie.samo LMAOOO IS THAT EMINEM

→ yourusername shush thyself

→ mackie.samo what 💀

markestapa you’re desperate

→ yourusername STOP DRAGGING ME

→ markestapa you could do a lot better

→ yourusername A LOT BETTER THAN DYLAN O’BRIEN?? i beg to differ

rutgermcgroarty smash

→ yourusername #harrypotterdefender4life

→ rutgermcgroarty wasn’t talking abt him but yes queen he’s hot too!!!!

→ yourusername oh.. why r u speaking like that it’s kind of scary 😥😥

lhughes_06 they’re not that hot 🙄🙄

→ yourusername I’M SORRY WHAT????

→ lhughes_06 idk theyre mid tbh

→ yourusername check ur eyes kid

→ lhughes_06 ok lil buddy

→ yourusername ihy

→ lhughes_06 i love u too

→ jackhughes 👀

→ luca.fantilli 👀

→ _quinnhughes 👀

→ trevorzegras 👀

→ mackie.samo 👀

→ colecaufield 👀

→ rutgermcgroarty 👀

→ adamfantilli 👀

→ _alexturcotte 👀

→ dylanduke25 👀

→ markestapa 👀

→ jamie.drysdale 🤢

→ yourusername you guys need to stop doing this so much oh my god 😭😭

username15 yall all keep asking how luke feels but what abt the bigger question: ARE THOSE THE STURNIOLO TRIPLETS???

→ username7 okay but the biggEST question is: IS THAT GRIFFIN GLUCK?!?!?!

→ username55 i thought it was fucking white boy carl 💀 username7

trevorzegras i sorta approve of your taste in mid white boys

→ yourusername says the mid white boy

→ trevorzegras HEY ☹️

dylanduke25 “smash” means

→ dylanduke25 goddammit i didn’t mean to post without the definition

→ yourusername get ur definition shit AWAYYYYY 🤺🤺

→ markestapa dilf is an acronym for "dad i’d like to fuck". a dilf is any man (typically between the ages of 30-50) who is incredibly attractive and has kids. they are usually really cut, from activities such as pushing strollers, giving piggyback rides, and intense trips to the local park or disney world. the also have a killer smile and sense of childlike joy, because they play with their kids all the time. unfortunately, getting with them is hard, as they are typically very faithful to their wife (see milf).

→ yourusername that’s plagiarism ‼️‼️‼️

username11 the taste in men is immaculate

colecaufield now i don’t comment a lot on your posts anymore but i want you to REAAAAALLY think about what you’ve done here

→ yourusername i posted pictures of hot white men’s faces on cakes!

→ colecaufield yes yes and how do you think that might make other people (cough cough) feel?

→ yourusername grateful because i showed them these masterpieces 🤗🤗

→ colecaufield oh kid you’re hopeless

jamie.drysdale dad asked what dilf means

→ yourusername tell him it means “drake is literally fire”

→ jamie.drysdale too late he saw mark’s definition 😂😂😂

username46 draco malfoy 💚

missseraphina lmao fangirl

adamfantilli let’s split the cake in half

→ yourusername sure <33 you can get the part with the word on it and i can get everything else 🥰

colecaufield i’m surprised crosby isn’t somewhere on there

→ _alexturcotte goddammit whyd u bring it up

→ yourusername SID!!!!!!

→ jamie.drysdale she still has that pinterest album of ONLY pics of him

→ trevorzegras lil drizz u had a crush on him when you were like 5

→ yourusername we all had a crush on him 😒

_quinnhughes would now be a bad time to tell you he’s punching his pillow in the other room

→ jackhughes hey he made us promise to not snitch

→ _quinnhughes stop acting like we actually do what he tells us to do

→ jackhughes you’re right we never do that

→ lhughes_06 you snitched i’m telling mom

→ jackhughes mom doesn’t care ur such a baby

→ lhughes_06 fine i’m telling dad

→ _quinnhughes dad does not give a flying fuck

→ jackhughes dad wouldn’t even know what we’d be talking about

→ jackhughes actually scratch that moosey you’re really damn obvious

→ yourusername what the hell is going on

yourusername

liked by markestapa, _alexturcotte, dylanduke25, and 94,292 others

yourusername oui oui paris 🥖🎀 (creds to jamie for the pics ig)

view all comments

jamie.drysdale wow i’m so honored you remembered to give me creds

→ yourusername because we’re not allowed to argue on our trip 🤬

→ jamie.drysdale dad said and i quote “no squirreling”

→ yourusername what the fuck is squirreling

→ yourusername WAIT DO YOU MEAN QUARRELING 😭😭

→ jamie.drysdale yeah yeah so we can’t squirrel

→ yourusername it’s QUARREL

username88 mother is in her coquette era

username34 HOW DO YOU LOOK SO GOOD WITH A FACE MASK ON???

trevorzegras come backkkkkk wmy

→ yourusername no can do trev 😔

username21 hold up but i thought everyone was spending the summer at the lake house?

rutgermcgroarty but WE were supposed to go to paris together 🙁

→ yourusername no sweetie it was athens..

→ rutgermcgroarty either way it’s still in france

→ yourusername no…….. no its not 😭😭

→ rutgermcgroarty damn it i’m just trying to say you’re always going to OUR dream places with other people 😒

→ yourusername I WILL TAKE YOU TO JEJU ISLAND I PROMISE

→ rutgermcgroarty is that in europe

→ yourusername 😟

_quinnhughes it’s so weird not hearing you badly scream-sing in the shower at 2 in the morning

→ yourusername oh shut up you love my hamilton marathons

adamfantilli you should be the one wiping out on the wakeboard not me 😔😔

→ yourusername wow i feel sooooo missed

→ adamfantilli we do miss u tho (PLEASE COME BACK WE NEED YOU)

username2 wait why didn’t you go to the lake house 😟😟

→ yourusername jamie and i didn’t feel like getting harassed 💔

→ username2 BY WHOOOOO??

→ username2 actually that’s a dumb question i know who

username75 this is the first summer they haven’t spent at the lake house 😧

luca.fantilli don’t worry lil drizzle we bought u two tickets so u can come back 😁

→ yourusername noooooo

mackie.samo you need to come back rn no excuses

markestapa WE NEED TO TAKE OUR ANNUAL GROUP PIC 😕

edwards.73 duker almost burnt the house down please we need you back

jackhughes NO ONES EVEN HERE PLEASE JUST COME BACK

→ yourusername thought my cyberbully was going 😣😖☹️🙁😓😥

→ jackhughes LMFAOOO as if

→ yourusername i’ll consider it 🙄

_alexturcotte our karaoke nights are so boring without youuuu

→ yourusername you can solo our mariah carey songs trust 🙏🙏

→ _alexturcotte NO I CANT

→ yourusername turcs we booked our hotel for 3 weeks i can’t do anything 😭😭

dylanduke25 i almost burnt the house down making waffles

→ yourusername oh duker..

username24 the way they’re all begging her to go back to the lake house lmao

missseraphina it’s giving nepo baby

liked by yourusername

→ username1 LMAOAOAO at this point drizz is just clowning this bitch

lhughes_06 i need you here

this comment has been deleted

lhughes_06 we need you here

next chapter notes ) so regarding the request; i wasn’t sure if it was like a request or more of just a thought but i felt like it could add more angst so i took it as a request anyways 🤍 i also wanted to say that the time between the first and second post was a bit of a jump but like let’s just say the first post was during finals week and the second one was obv during the summer and WE ARE FINALLY IN ACT IV WOOOOOOO 👏👏👏 also thank you all so much for 300 followers AHHHH!! it genuinely does mean so much to me and i’m glad you’re here on my journey to stir up more shit between luke and “his” girl

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys @loveforaugust

#luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #quinn hughes #jack hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #adam fantilli #rutger mcgroarty #luca fantilli #mackie samoskevich #dylan duke #mark estapa #ethan edwards

377 notes · View notes

skzfairyy · 7 months

Text

3:47pm

Pairings: Kim Seungmin x reader!

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Hints of possessive Seungmin ft. a heated Harry Potter argument lmao

Wc: 1.1k words

AN: We've been hoarding this story forever... Probably right after the live when Seungmin got his braces off hehe. Enjoy!! - Y2K

“Oh, we both know who would’ve won that fight if Hermione wasn’t there.” Jisung stood across from Y/N with his arms crossed.

The two were heatedly debating one of their favorite movie series, Harry Potter. Y/N came by the house earlier that afternoon like usual, a normal Sunday routine that ended with game night and a very chaotic dinner with the boys. Her favorite member, though she might be biased because she is in fact dating him, was currently out running an errand. Leaving her to spend her free time bickering with Jisung until Seungmin came home.

“Hermione being there was the whole point of the scene- to punch Draco in the face. If she wasn’t there it literally makes no sense, Ji.” Y/N counters his argument easily.

The two stood in the kitchen both dressed in sweatpants and their customized tour shirts, perfect for a lazy afternoon at home. Originally they had gone to the kitchen to get snacks before the next movie but got a little sidetracked by their intense conversation. Felix and Chan even popped their heads in to make sure they weren’t arguing over something serious, which happened more times than either of them would like to admit.

“I’m just saying!” Jisung holds his hands up, feigning surrender. “Draco would’ve ended all three of them right there!”

“Jisung! If that scene even turned out in the way you’re implying, it’d ruin the rest of the movie!” Y/N exclaims, the front door of the house opens and closes, but the two are too heated to hear.

“No, it wouldn’t!”

“Did you even watch the rest of the movie?!”

Cue the dramatic gasp.

“How. Dare. You.”

Seungmin’s figure leans against the archway of the kitchen, he’s wearing a simple pair of jeans and a sweater he got from Y/N as a gift last year. He crosses his arms listening to the two with an amused smile on his face. Jeongin emerged from the hallway nearby, smiling at Seungmin in passing before entering the war zone.

“Jeongin-“ Y/N starts, her eyes landing on Seungmin briefly.

“Hey, Min.” Seungmin sends her a small smile in response, chuckling to himself.

“Jeongin, do you agree that Hermione punching Draco was an important plot point in Prisoner of Azkaban?”

The young boy freezes in front of the fridge as he glances at the two before shaking his head.

“Nope. Not getting involved.”

Y/N opens her mouth to respond before her brain finally catches up with what her eyes just saw a moment ago. Her head snaps back towards the entrance of the kitchen and onto her smirking boyfriend.

“Oh, my god!!” She squeals out, abandoning her argument completely and moving over to the quiet man, giving him her full attention.

“I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to notice.” He says quietly after she approaches, failing to hide the smile on his lips.

“What’d I miss?” Jisung asks out loud, a confused look on his face as Jeongin just looks at him and shrugs.

Y/N turned her body a little so the others could see Seungmin’s face as she squished his cheeks, showing the boys their bandmate's new smile.

“Minnie got his braces off!” She announces with the same excitement as earlier.

It’s a known fact that Seungmin doesn’t like much attention on him, especially when it comes to his physical features, but he couldn’t help but feel warm all over at Y/N’s excitement to show him off to their friends. Not to mention how fast she noticed the change despite her heated argument.

He waves her hand off his face after receiving compliments from the other two, the attention becoming a bit too much and takes her hand in his. “I’m taking my girlfriend now, you’ve had her long enough.”

“But-“ Jisung objects.

“Find someone else to bicker with.” Seungmin grumbled.

Y/N waves bye to the boys in the kitchen as she follows Seungmin down the hallway into his bedroom. He releases her hand upon entry, moving to sit on the edge of his bed as Y/N shuts the door.

“Bubs, your smile is so pretty.” The octave of her voice dropped significantly from how she was speaking in the kitchen, the tone was as soft as her hands when they moved to cradle his face as she stood between his legs.

“Really?” Seungmin’s hand finds the back of her thighs and rubs them gently as he feels the tips of his ears grow warm. Here in the privacy of his bedroom, Seungmin selfishly soaks in all of the attention from his partner, allowing another metal-free smile to adorn his lips.

She nods her head and leans forward, peppering his face with kisses. These moments between the couple were rare, as they both tend to cringe at most romantic gestures, especially in public, but every once in a while, they’ll divulge in overly lovey-dovey moments in private with one another.

“You’re pretty too.” Seungmin speaks softly through her affectionate ambush, causing her to let out a small giggle of her own.

“Not like you, Min.” Her hand lifts to run through his brown hair gently with a small smile, her eyes shining as she scans his features quietly.

Seungmin squeezes her thighs in warning. “You’re not going to win an argument with me. Save that sass for Jisung.” His voice was laced with an attitude of his own.

“I’ve got enough to go around.” She shrugs casually.

Taking that as a challenge, he stares up at her for a moment before lifting her body, flipping her onto the bed next to him.

“Seungmin!” She objects with a laugh.

“Shush, my teeth hurt. I just wanna nap with you.” He responds as he lays his head on her stomach, making himself comfortable in one of his favorite positions.

Y/N scoffs as his arms secure themselves around her torso, his eyes already closed while she lays there as his personal pillow. Her hands move to run through his hair yet again, lulling him to sleep.

“After our nap, you have to take my side in the argument with Jisung.” Y/N whispers to him softly.

“Deal.” His body doesn’t even move a muscle as he agrees.

Sure he found the argument completely useless, since the whole point of the movie had way more to do with Harry’s godfather and his story than either of their arguments, but he’ll say that the sky is bright pink with flying pigs and nonstop rainbows if Y/N asks him to.

He was very much whipped for the girl in his arms and everyone knew it. Of course, he’d never say it out loud, but it was shown in other ways. The look in his eye when she laughs, the hidden smile he holds back when she argues with people, but his favorite would be the moments like this.

Just the two of them in their own bubble of privacy, though it’s rare in the chaotic house that Seungmin lives in…

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

masterlist ||

#y2kstories #skz x reader #straykids #seungmin x reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #seungmin #skz

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jellybeans2099 · 10 months

Text

Cam Person Drabble

Paring: Miguel O'Hara x Spiderperson!Reader

Part 2 Here

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, obsessive behaviors, masturbation, breeding kink, size difference (if you squint), s-x work is real work

Word Count: 0.5k

A/N: I used they/them pronouns for the reader so insert whichever ones you use. No real descriptions of what the reader has going on to keep this neutral. This idea has been swimming in my head for DAYS and I need to just get it out. Let me know if you want a longer version of this! (also loosely based on @oharahive's Frustration series, I just love the idea of frustrated Miguel and oblivious reader so I took my own spin on it)

He wondered how pathetic he looked staring at his computer screen with such an intensity. The object of all his late night longing was right in front of him and yet he knew they were so much farther away than he could ever get to them. How silly was it to get attached to the person behind the screen. And yet here he is every single stream, cock in hand. It started out as an accident. An honest to god accident. He didn't want to know what you did in your spare time and how you supported yourself when you weren't at HQ but he saw your username handle while doing a routine check in on new recruits. You only met him once and had never even made a point to see him again. Only exchanging a hello out of curtesy or a brief recap after a mission. You didn't go out your way to see him, just another person here in the spider society. He shouldn't have looked it up and found you streaming in your down time. The moment he laid eyes on your half dressed form, moaning and pleading with someone in stream controlling your toy he was transfixed. He found himself dick in hand pumping hard and fast in tempo with you. He was absolutly obsessed. He felt a desire bubble up he had never felt before. How much he would give to see his cum leaking out your pretty little hole, moaning his name as he fucks it all back into you. Watching himself go deep inside you, into places no toy could ever reach. By the time he came to he had a large load of cum covering his t-shirt and sweats dripping on the floor underneath his desk.

Now here he was almost 6 months later and he couldn't stop himself. Every night you were streaming there he was in front of his desk waiting for you to go live. He paced himself now, not cumming until you finished the stream as a reward for being so patient. Sometimes a stream was quick, just 20 minutes before you were abruptly interrupted by "nosy neighbors" which was always something going down at HQ that needed your urgent attention. Those days are particularly hard to pull himself back together to face you as your assigned a mission for a new anomaly. Some days he made sure that HQ had a backup for you just incase you wanted to be live a little longer. Those streams sometimes went on for up to 3 hours and he savored them to the last second. At HQ he could hardly face you without getting an immediate hard on, often meeting you only when his back was turned, You hardly seemed to mind, you kept your distance as much as you could. He once overheard a conversation you had with Peter B. saying you found him intimidating and that you were keeping your distance. Oh how little you know about the beast you've awakened in him.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara x spiderperson!reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara drabble

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

—OPIA | FOUR

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been avoiding Wednesday's gaze lately.

Warnings: Angst. Protective!Wednesday. The Addams Family reunion. Larissa is exasperated. Enid, the gossip queen. Thing, the chaperone. Xavier, gets no breaks.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: I rewrote this chapter so many times but I think it definitely explores the most intimacy so far. Likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated 🥺💘

Part Three

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Opia: Noun. The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday is agitated.

To succinctly summarize, you have been refusing to look Wednesday in the eye as of late.

It took a while for Wednesday to notice, perhaps because your back was always turned to her when she met up with you nightly to apply the medicine on your wings. And when that was finished, you kept your eyes focused on the pond while you talked.

And for a while, your witty banter and intriguing anecdotes had kept Wednesday distracted. The more time she spent with you, the more she began craving something she couldn't quite place.

Wednesday found herself enjoying listening to you talk about your life before Nevermore. Of course, she could tell you were avoiding talking about anything serious, but there was a small relief that there were good moments in your life as well.

In turn, Wednesday shared anecdotes of her own childhood, tales of the times she had to rescue Pugsley because he was weak, squishy, and sensitive. Whereas other people had looked at her disturbed and passed judgment on her, you had grinned and laughed.

Wednesday never minded the judgment from others, but she quietly admitted to herself that it was also pleasing to have someone enjoy her morbidity and harsh penchant for revenge.

So, maybe that's why Wednesday began to notice. Her discovery to see what your face looked like as she told her stories had led her to realize you've been avoiding eye contact.

You made it seem like it wasn't on purpose, fiddling with flowers until they've been weaved into crowns or giving Thing manicures—he's been getting much too pampered between you and Enid.

But even when Wednesday called your name, you looked at her, but you weren't looking at her. It was like you were looking past her, like Wednesday couldn't even be seen by you, and she despised it.

Wednesday detests people who can't look her in the eye. It was a sign of deceit, guilt, and secrecy.

And Wednesday will be damned if she'll let you keep any more secrets from her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Oh my god, did you hear?" Enid leans her head forward at their table in the quad.

Wednesday was reading her spellbook, her eyes occasionally trailing across the quad to where you sat with the faceless outcasts. You seemed very intrigued about learning how they communicated.

"Hear what?" Yoko asks, adjusting her sunglasses. The vampire has taken to joining their table lately, and sometimes it would grate on Wednesday's mind to hear Enid and Yoki incessantly talk and gossip.

"Ajax was telling me all about it this morning," Enid grins as she looks over to the stoners. "Apparently, someone changed one of the girls' bathrooms near the Gorgon rooms to nothing but mirrors. I heard that two gorgon girls walked in this morning and were stuck stoning themselves over and over."

"Shit, that's awful," Xavier frowns.

Wednesday smirks behind her book.

"I wonder who would do that," Yoko casually comments.

They all look at Wednesday.

"So, why'd you do it?" Xavier asks, resting his chin in his hand.

"Even animals know to have evidence before accusing someone," Wednesday flatly speaks, her eyes never leaving her book.

"So," Eugene tilts his head with confusion, "you didn't do it?"

"I never said that," Wednesday's reply was uninterested.

Because Wednesday did do it.

The investigation took longer than it normally would with her being distracted by you. But finding out something so trivial, like who had hurt you, was child's play.

Wednesday had debated long about what to do. The idea of filling their rooms with tarantulas or poisonous snakes had first come to mind, but she knew it was almost guaranteed that Weems would discover it was her if the girls died.

While she did save the school last year, it would be unlikely Weems would allow her to stay here if she did kill someone, as tempting it would be.

Wednesday sighs lightly through her nose. It would've looked lovely on her record.

But expulsion would mean being very, very far from you, and Wednesday couldn't have that.

At least—not before she at least found out why you've been refusing to look her in the eye.

"Hi, everyone."

Everyone's attention turns to you as you begin walking up to them. They greet you back, and Xavier, Enid, and Eugene are already throwing out the nicknames they came up with that week.

"Tinker Bell!"

"Winx Club!"

"Bloom!"

"Eugene, that was literally just a rip off of mine," Xavier laughs.

"Those are all terrible," you laugh along, shaking your head. "Are you guys just thinking of all things faerie-related only?"

"Well, yeah," Xavier blinks as if there couldn't be anything else.

"Well, continue on then," you gave them a lopsided smile.

"Really? None of them?" Xavier sighs as he moves down his seat to let you sit between him and Wednesday.

"Can you blame her?" Wednesday comments while turning the page.

"Oh, yeah?" Xavier raises his brow. "Let's hear what you've got then."

"And let you idiots ride off my coattails? I think not."

Xavier starts grumbling, and you chuckle.

"Hi, Wednesday," you say softly, looking over at her.

Wednesday looks up at you, but you start staring at her bangs as soon as she does.

She glares.

"Oh, hey, I think you've got some dirt on your back," Xavier says, his eyes squinting as he stares at your back. "Here, I got it."

Xavier lifts his hand and starts to descend upon your back when Wednesday reaches over and grabs his wrist, twisting it back.

"Ah!" Xavier grunts. "What the hell, Wednesday!?"

Wednesday is holding up her book with one hand while holding Xavier's wrist in the other, glaring at him. "What are you doing, you oaf? Are you trying to dislodge her lungs from her chest?" She flings his wrist away, glaring at him while he shakes off the sting in his wrist.

"I was just trying to help," Xaiver mumbles, looking confused.

Wednesday doesn't dignify him with a reply as she inspects your back carefully and does find dirt on it. "Were you rolling around in the grass?" Her tone is flat, but her lip is curled in distaste.

Still, she carefully begins to brush the dirt off your back. It's a far cry from the hard pats you would've gotten from Xavier.

"Maybe," you sound amused.

"Christ, Wednesday," Xavier huffs. "Morgan le Fay over here isn't made of glass."

"It's a no to that one too," you shake your head.

"C'mon!" Xavier groans. "You're not going to pick anything at this rate."

"You never know," you shrug, smiling. You look at your watch on the palm side of your wrist. "Class is starting soon. I'm going to head out." Turning your head to Wednesday, you tilt your head. "I believe your class is on the way. Do you want to go together?"

Wednesday nods jerkily, packing up her things. She doesn't say anything to the group other than giving a look and walking off with you.

The walk down the halls is quiet, as it usually is. It's something Wednesday can appreciate that you never feel the need to fill the silence. But halfway through, you break the quietness.

"I heard the bathroom near the Gorgon's dormitory was changed to mirrors," you say nonchalantly.

"I see," Wednesday's tone betrays nothing.

"My usual lab partners were absent as they were apparently stoned all day—over, and over, and over."

"How lucky."

You stop walking, causing Wednesday to stop as well. You face each other, but once again, you are staring at her ears.

"I told you it was an accident," you sigh. "She doesn't know my wings are hidden inside my back. No one does."

"Accident or not, she still slapped your back—and I don't care that it was meant to be jovial—hard enough to reopen your wounds," Wednesday snaps and then sneers, "What? Were her hands partially stoned when she patted you?"

You seem unsure of what to say to Wednesday. In the end, you sigh.

"Even though it was unnecessary, thank you." It's soft and sincere, and the gruesome butterflies are eating Wednesday's insides again. It probably would've been worse if you had actually been looking Wednesday in the eyes when you said it.

"You're welcome," Wednesday says stiffly, and you turn to walk again.

The silence resumes, and Wednesday is nearly so fed up that she's about to just ask you if she's done something wrong. But what actually comes out of her mouth is, "Are you looking forward to Parent's day?"

There's an internal frustration rising within Wednesday.

"I'm ambivalent," you reveal, your tone even.

"I assume your parents won't be coming?"

You chuckle. "Unlikely."

"Will you spend the day with Weems, then?"

"Maybe," you seem pensive. "But she'll most likely be busy talking to other parents. Are your parents coming?"

Wednesday sighs. "Unfortunately, yes. They'll want to know how I've suffered so far."

You chuckle. "They seem like horrible people."

"Thank you, they are."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Oh, my little storm cloud, how have you been doing?" Gomez coos as he walks towards her.

"Wednesday, you look positively pale," Morticia comments. "It suits you."

Wednesday brushes off the comment, feeling awkward but nods at her mother to acknowledge it. Her eyes then focus on Pugsley, and she accesses him.

"Pugsley, you look feeble and squishy as per usu—are you sniveling again."

"I missed you, too, Wednesday," Pugsley smiled.

The four of them sit at a nearby table. Wednesday's eyes skim the quad, catching her various friends with their families. Enid seems to be getting along better with her mother, but Wednesday will always despise that woman.

"Who are you searching for, Wednesday?" Morticia's voice drags Wednesday's attention back to her family, who are all staring at her curiously.

"No one," Wednesday answers flatly.

But her mother only smiles as if she knows Wednesday's secret, which utterly irks her.

"So, how have you been faring?" Gomez asks, his face genuinely eager to hear.

"Dreadful," Wednesday replies. "Not once has my life been put at risk, nor have I been accused of any murders. Not even a single stalker."

Morticia and Gomez gaze at each other for a moment before back at Wednesday placatingly.

"It's...quieter than your first year here, but not every year may be filled with mayhem," Morticia smiled. "At least, not in the way you expect."

"What do you know about faeries?" Wednesday asks, changing the subject as it was intruding on a topic Wednesday herself wasn't prepared to talk about.

Morticia and Gomez seem lost in their thoughts as they contemplate Wednesday's question.

"Why do you ask?" Morticia finally answers. "Is that who you've been looking around for?"

Wednesday doesn't answer her mother's question, but the lack of an answer is an answer in itself. Luckily, her mother is merciful and only gives Wednesday a knowing smile.

"Not much," Morticia answers. "I believe we had only one ancestor who has ever visited a fae realm. They might've documented it somewhere in a diary."

Wednesday's eyes sparkled with interest. "Is that so? Do we still have it?"

"Perhaps," Morticia muses, her voice dragging at the end, and Wednesday felt herself tense. She knows that tone and already begins mentally bargaining.

"Alright," Wednesday says evenly. "What do you want in return for sending me the diary?"

Morticia tilts her head to the side, a black widow-like grin on her lips. "Larissa let me know that the next Parent's day will be when students get to go home for the weekend. I want you to bring your fae friend."

"Why?" Wednesday demands, her eyebrows furrowed in displeasure.

"Because Wednesday," Morticia leans into Gomez, who puts her arm around her. "You rarely show interest in other people. Enid is a lovely girl, and I hope to host her one day as well, but she didn't have you sitting here asking your mother what I knew about werewolves."

"What makes you think my 'fae friend' will be available to come?" Wednesday shot back.

Morticia doesn't chuckle in consideration for her prickly daughter, who was more likely than ever to say hurtful words now.

"You've been looking around the quad, but your eyes haven't landed on anyone. If they're not here, then neither are their parents. And if that's the case, they'll be unlikely to show up for the second Parent's day," Morticia looks around the quad and then back to Wednesday. "It would've been nice to meet them today."

Wednesday says nothing about the last comment but contemplates her options. The idea of introducing her parents to you was dreadfully...uncomfortable. But the diary...Wednesday sighed an internal breath of defeat.

"Fine," Wednesday concedes. "I will ask, but I cannot control the outcome of the answer. I want the diary regardless."

"Agreed," Morticia nods.

"Alright," Gomez claps his hands together. "Why don't I catch you up on what Uncle Fester has been up to?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday feels a casual headache forming.

The day was long, and her family had been one of the last few to go. While her relationship with her mother improved after resolving the Garret Gates case, there was still a limit on how much time she could spend with her before feeling like she was on edge.

Although, Wednesday was pleased that her brother was faring better in school and no one was torturing him in fear his killer sister would come for them. It made her smirk a little.

But now that the day has ended, Wednesday finds herself craving something—craving you. She checks her watch, but it's still too early in the day to meet up with you for your salve treatment.

Wednesday runs her tongue against the back of her teeth in contemplation.

Friends...you were friends, weren't you?

Enid had confirmed it. With the consistent hangouts, shared stories, and occasional walking each other to class...that was friends, wasn't it?

So, if Wednesday wanted to see you earlier, she could. With that, she turns in the direction to start looking for you. You were nowhere in the quad, so Wednesday began to look for you in places you usually were.

In the end, Wednesday could not find you.

And she was angry.

First, you were avoiding eye contact, and now, you've hidden somewhere without saying a word.

When she finds you, Wednesday promised herself repercussions.

"Enid," Wednesday calls out evenly when she spots the blonde dragging her feet through the halls.

"Oh, hey, Wednesday," Enid says tiredly and then smiles. "Survived Parent's day, did we?"

"There was never a doubt."

"What's up?"

"Have you seen..." Wednesday drags and then shakes her head. "Did you happen to see—"

"I saw Faerie Canary a couple of hours ago with Bianca," Enid cut in to spare Wednesday. "Bianca's parents didn't show up either."

"Back to the rhyming, are we?" Wednesday doesn't hold back the unimpressed tone.

Enid only makes a face.

"Are they still together?" Wednesday asks.

Enid shakes her head. "I don't think so. I only heard bits of their conversation when I passed by with my family earlier."

Wednesday tilts her head, waiting for Enid to continue.

Enid looks mildly uncomfortable as she rubs the back of her neck.

"Enid," Wednesday's eyes narrow threateningly.

With a sigh, Enid mutters, "This isn't the type of gossip I'm into." But then she focuses back on Wednesday and looks at her seriously. "Don't repeat what I'm telling you. Not only do I think Bianca will stab me with her fencing sword, but I don't think Fae will talk to me if this spreads around."

Wednesday nods, and Enid looks around. Satisfied that there's no one in sight, she leans in closer to say quietly, "Bianca was talking about how it was unlikely her mother would visit again after last year. Their relationship is strained and complicated, but Bianca said she knows her mother does love her and wants the best for her. Bianca said how every mother wants the best for their kid, even if they have a fucked up way of showing it, although it was between her mother and mine for winning an award for the way they went about it." Enid scrunches her nose at that.

Wednesday nods, unsurprised by the comment.

Enid pursed her lips. "Well, then—" Enid huffs. "Fae just laughed, and then she said, 'Unless your mother's best for you is your demise, I think my mother has both of you beat on that.' I don't think she elaborated on it and left shortly after."

Wednesday was silent, her face furrowed as she thought about Enid's words. There was something uncomfortable nagging at her, and it was going to result in something Wednesday would despise.

"I see."

Enid nods. "If you find her, you didn't hear it from me, okay?" Enid gives Wednesday a look. "I also might not come back to the room tonight. I'm going to hang out with Yoko and Ajax."

Wednesday nods. "If you don't provide me an update at night, I will assume the worst and their murders will be the reason for my second expulsion here."

Enid smiles widely, doing her best to refrain from hugging her friend. "I will let you know I'm safe."

Without saying anything else, Wednesday turns and begins to head somewhere else.

Principal Weems's office.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Principal Weems," Wednesday calls after she knocks once and then proceeds to enter without waiting for a reply.

"Wednesday," Weems sighs deeply when she sees the gloomy girl. "How lovely to see you in my office. I assume your parents' visit went well?"

"It went fine. My mother was delighted to hear you weren't murdered and made a full recovery during the summer," Wednesday says bluntly.

Weems tries not to roll her eyes, especially when she remembers Wednesday's concerned face hovering over her when she had been injected with nightshade.

"Yes," Weems says dryly. "Surviving was the highlight of my summer." Then Weems sighs. "What can I do for you, Wednesday? Are you looking for our resident faerie? I've been told about the contest for coming up with a nickname. So far, I've heard some...interesting suggestions."

"She told you about that?" Wednesday narrows her eyes.

"Fae tells me about most things," Weems reveals. "But as her legal guardian, it's also my job to know."

"You call her Fae?" Wednesday frowns.

Weems smirks. "She actually quite likes it. I believe outside of her own amusement, Fae had her own hopes about the results of the contest."

"What does that—"

"What can I help you with, Wednesday? It's getting late."

Wednesday clenches her jaw in annoyance but tries to relax, remembering her objective of coming here in the first place.

"I want to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth."

Weems nods. "I'll do my best."

"I'm aware that her parents couldn't visit today for her safety," Wednesday looks at Weems expectantly, who nods.

"But I was under the impression that it was their judgment that it was too dangerous," Wednesday's face was impassive. "That's not exactly true, is it? She had said the more in contact they are with her, the more it exposes her location—which is true to keep other faeries away, but the full truth is this place is meant to guard her against her parents too, isn't it?"

Principal Weems sighed, looking both annoyed and impressed as she looked at Wednesday. "Well, since you've already figured out this much from what she's told you, I assume you'll find out soon enough because you're incessant and nosy." Weems rolled her eyes. "And I would prefer you don't alert the entire school as you do your investigations, so I trust what I'll say remains between us."

Wednesday felt her jaw tightening, her position staunch as she waited for Weems to come out and say something that would irrevocably change things.

"Yes, it is too dangerous for her parents to visit," Weems confirmed. "But not because they deem it so, but because I do. I wasn't offered guardianship because her parents brought her here and requested it, but because she escaped and found me."

So few little things make Wednesday's heart beat faster. Usually, it's from excitement, but Wednesday doesn't feel the excitement from the words, 'she escaped.'

Wrong.

Wednesday had been wrong.

Wednesday is filled with dread, rage, and vengeful thoughts—promises.

"As you know, night faeries are outcasts within their own group. Many people dread their existence, and some are even violent enough to take matters into their own hands before they believe calamity ensues," Weems's hands were tightly clasped together on her desk. "I will never allow her parents to step foot on these grounds because her mother was the one to try to cut her wings off."

Wednesday turns and leaves the room, slamming the door behind her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's nothing like the frustration of not having your number when you're nowhere to be found. Wednesday considers coming up with some ridiculous nickname and forcing you to accept it the next time she sees you.

There's only about an hour before she usually sneaks out to see you for your salve treatment, so Wednesday decides she'll play the cello to get her mind off things.

It'll be difficult with the hot rage that beats furiously inside Wednesday's chest. Her emotions dictate she avenges you because that's the only way she knows how to show she cares.

Wednesday opens the door to her room and finds it empty, as expected, with Enid not returning tonight. But when she looked out the balcony, she could see a silhouette of someone sitting on the railings.

Immediately, Wednesday made her way over and opened the window to see you gazing at the sky, swinging your legs as Thing sat next to you. The noise makes you turn around, and Wednesday can't explain the immense relief at seeing your face.

"Where have you been?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

"I could ask you the same," Wednesday asks with a clenched jaw.

"Around," you shrug your shoulders. "But I wanted to see you earlier than our usual time, so Thing let me in about half an hour ago."

"So, you've been here for half an hour?" Wednesday glares.

You nod.

She was going to break Thing's fingers, but the disembodied hand looked confused at Wednesday's irate behavior, and she had no choice but to let it go.

With a deep breath out of her nose, Wednesday steps out onto the balcony and joins you in sitting on the railings. It was quite a far drop-down that guaranteed either a lifetime of being a paraplegic or death.

It was kind of nice.

"How was parent's day?" You ask softly, staring out into the view.

"I survived."

You smile. "Your parents and brother are refreshing. It looked fun."

"It was not," Wednesday immediately corrects you. "You saw?"

You nod. "For a bit."

It was silent for a bit before Wednesday spoke up again.

"I talked to Weems before I went looking for you." Wednesday looks at you, but you don't look at her. "She's spilled all your secrets."

You laugh, and Wednesday frowns.

"I told her she could tell you if you asked," you reveal, a quirk on your lips but still refusing to look at her.

"Why?" Wednesday demands. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because somewhere along the lines, you stopped asking me."

The words hit Wednesday in the gut, making her feel unwell and breathless. It was true, and Wednesday can't even remember when she stopped asking and started assuming.

It was so unlike her.

All of this leads towards something Wednesday knows will make her face a revelation she's not sure she's ready to.

Still, Wednesday needs to ask because that's how mysteries are solved.

"Why have you stopped looking me in the eye?"

There's silence, and despite how much Wednesday has loved it all her life, she wishes you'd say something now.

You grant her wish.

"Do you know what I think about why you stopped asking me questions?" You ask instead of answering her question. You don't give her time to answer it, though. "Everybody has told me you've got an obsession with solving mysteries. But somewhere along the lines, you knew deep down your interest would continue even after you got your answers. That would mean you're vulnerable—and you don't want to be."

Wednesday felt herself clenching her jaw and fists so tightly she could draw blood from her palms.

"So, when you asked me why I stopped looking at you in the eyes, it's because it’ll push you towards being vulnerable." As if to prove your point, you finally turn and look at Wednesday—really look at her, like she's been wanting for weeks.

You look at Wednesday, locking gazes, and Wednesday feels like she sees galaxies and constellations in your eyes. It's opening her up to your bottomless, gleaming pupils. It's invasive and vulnerable, but the thing is—Wednesday can't tell if you're looking into her or if she's the one who's looking into you.

Wednesday thinks she sees something in you that you didn't mean to share, just as you saw something in her.

You turn your head, almost ripping your gaze from Wednesday's.

"Unpleasant, wasn't it?" You say with a self-deprecating smile.

"Yes," Wednesday answers, swallowing.

You nod stiffly. "Then, for both our sake, stop—"

"But in a way that I favored," Wednesday cut in.

You slowly turn your head back, catching Wednesday's intense gaze.

Wednesday's face somehow softened, her brows less tense and eyes less narrow. It was minuscule, but you noticed.

"I'm not good at this—whatever this is," Wednesday says quietly. "I will most likely devastate you at some point but for now, all I can vow is to ask you questions if you stop avoiding my gaze."

You stare at Wednesday, analyzing her face, and she wonders exactly what you're thinking.

In the end, you chuckle. "Deal, but no questions tonight. My wings are sore, and I hear you're an excellent cellist."

PART 5

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams fanfiction #wednesdayedit #wednesday addams x you #mm: my fics

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georgiapeach30513 · 6 days

Text

See Through My Eyes, Part 2

Summary: you and Bucky have to talk

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, sexual imagery, mentions of genital worship, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Steve watches his friend intensely. Staring as he walks from one side of the living room to the next. Hearing his goddaughter in the next room, screaming so loudly he wants to grab Bucky and make him talk to him. He’s never seen Bucky like this except once.

“Who the fuck did you knock up?”

“I heard that, Steve! I’m telling Miss Fawn!”

Steve’s mouth flies open, staring down the hallway, and he wonders if Izzy just has an alarm for bad words. “Buddy, I won’t say another bad word if you just tell me what is going on? You have only been like this when you found out Kenton was pregnant.”

Bucky just nods his head, stopping abruptly as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He used damn condoms. He pulled them off, and tied them up, and he spent the night with you. It wasn’t like you shoved anything back up inside of you. And you didn’t even seem to want or need him in your life or the baby’s. You were perfectly content.

”Buck?”

“Remember the Tinder date?”

“Mother…”

“Uncle Steve!” Izzy growls before she peeks her head out of her bedroom, “Miss Fawn will hear about this. She says profanity is not nice, and she’s growing a baby!” She stomps her foot one time to emphasize her words, and Bucky turns to look at his independent daughter before pointing to her bedroom.

“This is a grownup talk thing, huh?” He nods his head, and she sighs before closing her door and turning on Taylor Swift louder than Bucky normally allows. Grabbing her microphone before singing along with the obnoxious tune.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you knocked up her teacher!”

“I did not know that doeeyez1917 was Miss Fawn!”

“You are having a baby with Miss Fawn! Oh my god! Oh my god! Well, was she good? Like was the sex at least good? You got another person pregnant, do you not use protection? Is she a screamer? Wait, what kinks do you have? How far along is she? Have you seen her since the first night? Why are you just now telling me about this? What is…?”

“Steven!” Bucky’s hands grab onto his head because Steve is saying every question, and then some out loud, and Bucky’s head is swimming. Today was a stupid long day at work. It was too hot, the men on his crew wanted to be lazy and he pulled more weight on the team, and he was exhausted. He was late picking up his daughter, and then he finds out you were pregnant.

“Was the sex good?”

“The best I’d ever had,” Steve’s eyes go as large as saucers, and his hand shoves into his mouth. “Stop, don’t do that.”

“So why are you just now finding out she’s pregnant? And are you sure it’s yours? What is it? Oh my god, you’re going to have another spawn!” Bucky sighs, and collapses on the couch, “Buddy, what’s going on in your pretty little head?”

“I fucked up,” Steve cringes as he stares down the hall to Izzy’s door, but the music is either too loud or she knew that grownup talk was something she didn’t need to interrupt.

“Today was the first day you saw her, huh?” Bucky nods his head, his eyes blank as he stares out at nothing. He knew very little about you, but he did know more about Miss Fawn. And he knew about Miss Fawn through his daughter. His daughter that adored her teacher, and always managed to bring her up in everyday talk.

“If the sex was that good, why didn’t you see her again?”

“I deleted the app because I didn’t think I needed it, but then couldn’t remember how to get back in, and my email was no help,” Steve purses his lips as he stares at Bucky curiously. “And you said Tinder was about hooking up. So I just figured she wasn’t interested.”

“Why would you listen to me? You knew where she lived, you said you went to her house, so why didn’t you…”

”Because I’m stupid. I should have,” his voice falls into a whisper. How could he be so stupid? He knew exactly where you were and he wonders if you’ve been scared. If you tried to get in contact with him or if you just figured you’d deal with the consequences. But it was both of your consequences.

“So…Miss Fawn and doeeyes1917 are the same person. Your daughter’s teacher has Bucky growing inside of her,” Bucky fake retches, and starts laughing. “Do you know what a condom is?”

“We used them. I took it off, and she asked me if I would fuck her again just so she could watch me do that one more time,” Bucky’s chuckle turns dark at the times that he encouraged you one more time. Every time you gave so freely to him, and you looked so pretty, and felt so good coming over his fat cock. After two orgasms you were completely compliant to whatever he wanted, and he kept taking.

Over and over again until tears were leaking from your eyes, and you begged for him to come so you could sleep. He assured you that he would keep fucking you even if you were asleep, and he kissed away your stray tears as pleasure erupted in your body again.

“Ew, dad sex is gross.”

“I don’t think Miss Fawn minded my dad sex,” you definitely didn’t mind. You didn’t mind at all.

“Clearly not now that she made you a daddy again. Is she…like showing? What is your mother going to say?”

“Fuck me,” he growls. His mom. She hated Kenton, and told her son not to be knocking some bitch up again. “And yeah, she’s,” he stops, wishing the shock wouldn’t have gotten to him and he could have appreciated the way your dress hugged the little bump of his child. “Steve, she was gorgeous. All cute, and swollen, and she’s full of me, and…”

“You have the weirdest breeding kink.”

“She likes kids.”

“Other people’s kids,” that much is obvious. You are a teacher, and Izzy loved you so much she never quit talking about you.

“She wanted this child and didn’t need me. Izzy loves her, and she could be her step mom,” Bucky’s thoughts are spiraling and he’s very much aware of how they’re spiraling, but the thought of Izzy not having to give up her chameleon nickname makes him beam.

“Easy, killer. That’s if she wants to be with your flaky ass. She could just be your second baby mama that doesn’t want to be a stepmom, and she doesn’t want things to change. So calm your tits, and think about this. Are you going to have a conversation with her?” Bucky can only nod his head as he stares out in the distance.

He didn’t want that to be an option. He didn’t want to think about you and his child living in a two bedroom apartment all alone, and it isn’t even in the nicest part of town. He could help provide you with a good life. You and his children. And Izzy already adored you, and he wasn't sure how he was going to introduce you as the woman carrying her sibling, but it had to happen. He wants to be in the baby’s life, and yours.

“I’ve got more rooms in this house.”

“Stop it. Stop that.”

“She can be on a different floor.”

“Bucky!” Steve throws his head back onto the back of the couch, slapping his hand on his friend’s leg. “Don’t you dare meet with her to talk and tell her that she can move into your home with Izzy, while she grows your baby. You deleted Tinder, you didn’t go see her, and now you’re her student’s father, and she’s carrying your child. Bucky, this is what went wrong with you and Ken.”

“Ken was always a bitch.”

“Yeah, but you moved way to fast, and you still need better condoms. What kind of sperm is your cock growing? Super sperm!”

“Super sperm!” Izzy’s evil laugh can be heard in her bedroom before she opens the door, and runs into her daddy’s lap, “What is super sperm?”

“Steve, tell Izzy what super sperm is.”

“A word that you don’t say. Ever ever,” Izzy isn’t buying it. It’s a word she shouldn’t say, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to know why.

“That makes no sense.”

“It’s an adult word,” she looks at her dad, and back at Steve. “I’m telling the truth. It’s an adult word. You wouldn’t say shit would you?”

“I’m telling my teacher you said all the bad words.”

You pace around your kitchen as you play over Bucky picking up Izzy. Izzy. Your little chameleon. The little girl that will hide what’s really going on in her life, but sometimes these little words come out like her mom hadn’t called her. She is so resilient, and she is Bucky’s daughter. Your baby daddy.

You didn’t see your life this way. You had fully accepted that you were going to be single, and never ever have kids. It was a fairytale dream you had when you were younger. And then Bucky and his fucking super sperm happened. They wiggled their way into your body, and bonded with your egg, and now you’ve got this child growing in you.

He deleted Tinder, which makes sense for all the messages you sent him. You decide you’re going to start off by showing him the messages. Yes. You tried to reach out, but you knew nothing about him, you didn’t even know his fucking last name until he picked Izzy up. Barnes. Baby Barnes. Maybe Barnes. You had already committed to the baby having your last name because you were a loser that didn’t know their child’s father’s last name.

Bucky has to be a nickname anyways, and you didn’t know his real name. That man was drilling into you all night, and you just kept moaning Bucky. What if he had a different name? And you didn’t fucking know, “I’m sorry, baby,” you whine, petting along your stomach.

“I know nothing about your father other than he has a big fucking cock, and it’s slightly curved, and it hits me in just the right spot, and I guess I orgasmed so good that here you are,” you roll your eyes as you look up at the ceiling, feeling your eyes start to fill up with tears.

“Why do you always do this to me? You’re so cute and perfect, and your mom is a fuck up. I didn’t know your dad’s last name. I don’t even know if your dad wants to be in your life, and if he doesn’t and I know who his daughter is that’s going to hurt so much. Izzy’s so sweet,” your voice goes up an octave. “I hate this crying.”

How could you find out all this information and not cry? You didn’t even want to know what the sex of your baby is going to be because it gave you something to look forward to, considering you couldn’t feel its daddy’s dick again. “I shouldn’t think things about your daddy, but he has a really nice cock, and he knows how to use it.”

Your hand rubs up and down the little bump, and you scowl as a vision of Bucky wanting to touch his baby pops into your head, “No, I will not think of him. Why? Because I was supposed to be single all my life. Now I’ve got a fucking crib in my fucking office, and I can’t stop saying fuck, and I’m becoming a mother. And I’m so pissed off with how stupid I was. And I’m not getting my hopes up in thinking that Bucky wants to be in our lives, because he already has a child, and a baby mama who sounds like a bitch, and if I saw her I would punch her for Izzy. What mother doesn’t call their child? Ugh!”

He is coming over today, and you didn’t have to give him your address, he remembered. Asshole. He remembered, but didn’t bother to come by and see you. If you were oh so wonderful why couldn’t he spare a drive to your apartment? Why was the deleting of Tinder an excuse, and why did you believe it at that moment?

“I am not supposed to be stressed!” You scream, and rub on your belly, apologizing. “Ahh!” Flinching, and screaming when a loud knock happens on your door. “I’m coming,” hating yourself for saying that because you know who it is, and the last time you said that was under very different circumstances.

You swing the door open, and smile at him. Your heart hurts just to see his face. Brows tilt up as he looks around your body, “Why are you stressed?” Is he looking for a source of stress? The source is right in front of you with his big cock self.

“You heard that?”

“The walls here are too thin.”

“Are you insulting my home,” he cringes. Literally cringes. “I see.”

“It’s not the nicest neighborhood,” okay, you carried the little cat keychain and pepper spray, you’re sure most girls do. But you feel extremely defensive about his comments. “Can I come in?”

“Are you sure the walls won’t be too thin?”

“I didn’t mean to insult your home.”

“Good you didn’t seem to mind them being thin a few months ago when…” he doesn’t even let you finish. He presses a finger up against your mouth and shushes you. “What are you doing?”

“I apologize. I started this off completely wrong, and I don’t want thing to continue this way. However, you are pregnant with my child and I have questions,” his child. He’s already throwing that word around. “Miss Fawn, I know I’m saying all the wrong things. I’m sorry, truly.”

You take a deep breath as you move away from the door, holding out a hand for him to continue in. He walks past, but keeps looking towards you. His eyes flicking down to your stomach, and you can’t stand it. “Why didn’t you come to my apartment?”

“What?”

“When you deleted the app. Stop. Pause,” you inhale deeply, and look away from him. It hurts to see him, knowing that part of him has been growing inside of you, and he’s missed so much.

“I’m very emotional right now. It’s not just the pregnancy, it’s you. You’re Izzy’s dad, and the father of my child, and this is very overwhelming to me, and I need to change my office to the baby’s room, and I really don’t want to. Definitely not yet, and not — alone. But I need it. I’m not just a teacher, I’m working on something, and,” you take a another deep breath as you try and center your thoughts. “Why didn’t you come here? You remembered where I lived, but you didn’t.”

He sighs. His eyes flicker all over your face, and he gives you that judging look your parents have been giving you since you told them you were pregnant and you didn’t know the baby’s daddy, “Don’t pity me.”

“I’m trying to figure out why I didn’t think of that,” the giggle that releases from your mouth is just as much tears as a laugh. “Can I hug you?”

“I’d really like that,” gulping, you allow him to embrace you, and it feels so right. So warm, and his hand naturally dips to your belly, and he holds your baby just like you dreamed he would, and you hate that you’re getting choked up that your baby’s daddy wants them. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

“This doesn’t solve anything,” he huffs out a laugh, and his breath fans over your skin, and you actually tremble. A soft whimper edges out of your throat. The hand on your belly, the place where his child is growing, tightens. “Bucky,” you whisper, taking a step back from him, and he retreats immediately. “We should talk,” you need air and a chance to breathe, and this is just all too much.

“Yes, talk. We left some unfinished business last time.”

“I really can’t handle talking about last time.”

“Why’s that?” Oh, he can’t apologize himself through this. You have thought and thought, and thought some more about last time. The time that got you knocked up and single. The time that changed your world completely, and he was fuck off somewhere. Being pregnant really gives you a potty mouth.

“Because last time you fucked me three ways from Sunday, all fucking night long. Then you stayed. We showered, and fucked some more. Then we got in the bed, and you woke me up by sucking on my clit, and fucked me slowly, and then you carried me into this fucking kitchen, and you had breakfast already delivered. And…well, you know. Why are you smiling?”

“Izzy does this thing whenever she hears me or Steve say a bad word, she always says she’s going to tell you, and I counted five bad words in that story.”

God, he was so fucking cute! Bastard. And he counted your ‘bad words’? Was he even paying attention? “That’s not funny.”

“She would be very disappointed to know that you talk like that.”

“Not in front of kids,” he points at your stomach, and your natural response is to cover the swell with your arms. “They don’t count.”

“They?” His eyes go wide as he looks at your belly. “How many are in there?”

“One. I just don’t want to know what they are. The doctor tried, and I screamed at him,” you see his Adam’s apple bob while his eyes drift back down to your stomach. A sadness creeps over his face and you’re very confused. “What?”

“You’ve been to the doctor?”

“A few times. I needed to. I’m pregnant. It was like I knew immediately, and my ass went to the doctor, and they confirmed it. Got to hear their heartbeat, and stop looking at me that way!” It’s pitiful and you would just about drop to your knees and start sucking his dick if it would make that pouty face stop. Why is he cuter now that his child is growing in you?

“I missed hearing the first heartbeat,” fuck him. There’s this adorable look he gives you, but it breaks your heart. Realizing that Bucky really wanted this life.

“It still beats. Come here,” you take him to the tiny living room, and point towards the couch before retreating into your office/baby room, and come back with a device. Pulling up your shirt, and he bites on his lip. “Don’t tell me you have a breeding kink,” you giggle as you spread on some gel, and place a wand on your stomach.

Moving it around as you smile at him, “Come on. Your…father is waiting.”

“Daddy.”

“Daddy?” You ask, moving the wand around some more.

“If it’s okay. That’s what I’d like the baby to call me,” do not cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry. Find the damn heartbeat. Please, find it. Find. It. “Oh my god,” Bucky sits up straighter on the couch, staring straight at your Doppler wand. “Is that?”

“Yeah,” you smile, tears brimming your eyes, “That’s my — your — it’s our baby. I make a routine to listen to it every day. I think they enjoy it. I talk to them all the time. That’s who I was talking to when you said I had thin walls.”

“You do. It’s not insulated well, but this is amazing,” he changed that sentence real quick, and you don’t even care. “That’s our baby,” our. He fucking sucks. You’re trying to have an adult conversation and not want to worship his balls for giving you this incredible moment, and life growing in you. Thank you, testicles, for fucking a baby into your belly so you could have this man as your baby daddy. He’s hot, cute, and sweet. Goddammit.

“So?”

“So,” he responds, waiting for you to put the Doppler up, and you look at him. “Thank you.”

“Why?” You know this asshole is going to say something sweet, and you’re trying not to fall in love with your baby daddy who you only had sex with once. One night. Multiple times. Who is counting?

“I don’t know. For being incredible. For not being a bitch, and resenting me. For giving me a chance. And you’re not being weird about this, and I should apologize on behalf of my sperm.”

”Please, don’t do that?”

“Why?”

“Because I get horny thinking about your sperm. Oh my god that sounds so weird. What I mean is that your condom removal, sir, should be written about. I mean — can I lay everything out on the line?”

“I really wish you would,” is there pleading in Bucky’s voice? Is he getting horny with cum talk? He did have a fucking breeding kink. You’d make a note of that. It could serve you well later.

“That night, that glorious, amazing, wonderful night, I haven’t been able to get it off my mind. Don’t touch me while I’m making a point,” his hand retreats from your knee so quickly. He did want you. He’s just as much of a horny bastard as you, and you’re sure with a breeding kink added the fact that you are swollen with his child makes him that much more needy.

“The sex was fucking amazing, but we’re in a different place now, you and I.”

“Sure,” he agrees, but you can tell his tone lacks conviction. It’s true, you are in a different place.

“I don’t know what your intentions are with me or our child, it’s such new information to you. But I’m not a free sex toy. I get I’m already knocked up, so you could blow your warm, glorious load inside of me,” he snorts, covering his mouth, as he apologizes. “I’m sorry, I’m socially a bit awkward with adults, and I’ve been a bit of a recluse. And I’ve never had a baby daddy before, and I’m trying to finish my first book.”

“Honestly, you’re fine. Your embarrassment is adorable,” aw, he thinks you're adorable, and it infuriates you.

“What I mean is I don’t want to have sex.”

“What?” Is that fucking disappointment in his voice? What the fuck? Were you just a fucking sex doll he could put his cum in? “I didn’t mean it that way. I wasn’t actually thinking about fucking you.”

“Why not?” That is rude. You were thinking about fucking him. And sucking him. Even about kissing each of his balls over and over again, and thanking them for their service before you sucked each in your mouth, and fist his cock. You just weren’t ready for sex, but you wanted it so bad. You were trying to be a respectful mother. And then he can respectfully disrespect you.

“I would very like to fuck you again.”

“Okay,” that is satisfactory enough for now. You know your shoulders shimmy because you may be growing a human, but you are growing his human. It’s different. Since he very much would like to fuck you again it adds a bit of a confidence boost.

“I have been here before. I tried so hard to make it work with Kenton, Izzy’s mom, but all she wanted was my credit card, and not my daughter. And yes, I say mine, because Izzy is all mine. I will fight for her, and I will fight for ours. But I don’t want to fight you. I’m too damn old. And I don’t want to do this alone. Do you?”

You shake your head no as the pesky tears start to fill your eyes. You didn’t want to be a single mom. “Good. But we’ve had one night together. We talked and had fun, but I was too concerned with getting my cock in your tight pussy to be bothered with anything else.”

“You think I have a tight pussy?” Why are the things this man says doing things for you?

He laughs, nodding his head. His shoulders bounce up and down with joy, and he gets the prettiest pink on his cheeks. He is sweet too. “You have the tightest pussy,” aww!! You aren’t sure why that is so sweet and sexy, but it is. He likes your puss!

“What I mean is we’ve got a lot to learn and not a lot of time to do it,” this much is obvious. You’ve been thinking about their life from the moment it was confirmed you were pregnant.

”I know, they’ll be here before you know it.”

“I’ve got more than enough room in my house,” left turn. Left turn. Absolutely not. “The baby would have its own room, and not your office. You could have an office, and even…”

“No.”

“But,” abort mission. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“I don’t want to move in with you. We just said we can’t jump into having sex.”

“Can you let me finish?” You huff out air, but shut up. Rude. “You would have your own room, too. I don’t like this neighborhood.”

“This is my home!” He is back to hating this neighborhood. Self righteous prick.

“Is this where you’ve always wanted to live?”

“No, but this is mine! If I move in with you, it’s yours. And what if we don’t work out, I’m homeless,” rule number one, don’t let a man dictate your life and tell you what to do.

“I wouldn’t do that to my child.”

“You’d take them away from me like…”

“Stop right now,” you went too far, and you knew it. You knew before you started that sentence you should halt. “I will not argue about my daughter. And I never took her from Ken, she left her. You know the fucked up thing? I can’t get her for abandonment because she left her with her father. She didn’t abandon her. A parent is taking care of her. But we’re not doing this, so if you want to continue the conversation we can, but this isn’t up for debate.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have gone there. You’re a great dad. I would know,” he nods with his jaw tight and tensing, thanking you silently. “I just — this place isn’t much, but it’s mine. And I just don’t want to put myself in a position where a man can take advantage of me, and I’m trapped.”

“How about the money you pay for rent here, you put it into savings, so if anything happens, you have that money.”

“What do you do?”

“I work construction.”

“I’ve had you growing inside of me and I didn’t know that. Or your name. So this is fast. And I’m overwhelmed. It’s so much. It’s too much sometimes. And moving in with you seems so permanent, but,” tears start pouring out of your eyes because your dreams of becoming a mother never started off like this. You knew life and fiction were not the same thing and you knew that you could be in worse positions, but this is so confusing.

“I want our baby to have both of us in their life, and I don’t want to go between homes, and I don’t want to get up with the baby by myself all night long. And this apartment smells funny in the summer, and I do hate it. And my car had a flat tire the other day, and I was late to work because my dad couldn’t get here, and he found out my tire was slashed, and I’m not a terrible tenant, but I’m so scared.”

“Come here,” he doesn’t even wait for you to get up, he just pulls you into his lap. Resting his chin on top of your head as you wail. Why is all that fucking shit just pouring out of you? Why can you not control these damn tears? It’s his fault. You had every word planned out, and then he gets here, and everything evaded you.

“I can’t even nest. And the books say to nest, but our baby’s room is a mess. It’s so ugly. And I can’t paint here, and I don’t know if my lease can have another human. And they’re going to be human,” of course your baby was a fucking human. What else were they supposed to be? “I’m a basket case.”

“You’re pregnant, baby,” why did that sound so sweet? Ugh, he feels so warm and hard and so right. “Shh, it’s okay. We can get you an apartment closer to my house.”

“But I don’t want to be alone with a baby. I’ve never done this before.”

“I know, but I have done this. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. You can have your own room. And it’s an open invitation, okay?” Why is it hard? Why did this decision give you so much pause and anxiety? Ugh, you hate this. Because moving in feels like you’re drowning. Giving it all up so quickly for a man. But if you had to make it work.

“I don’t want to just be roommates that have a child.”

“I don’t either,” he almost growls in your ear. “We can start off slow, and go on dates. Like out of the house.”

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you going to tell Izzy?”

“Fuck,” one word, and you feel the same. This is confusing to you, and she’s a child. Izzy knows you’ve been pregnant, and out of all the kids in your class, she loved it. Always asked to touch your belly, and to go to the baby’s birthday shower. It’s so cute. But how is she going to handle dealing with the fact that your baby is also her daddy’s baby?

“We’ll figure it out,” that’s better than nothing, but leaves a lot to the imagination. What did that mean? “Shh, try to rest. I’ll keep holding you as long as you need,” this is so sweet, and it’s going to be hard because fuck him and his fucking amazing cock. But it will be worth it for you and your unborn child to take things slow. So fucking slow.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @w1nter-wolf-barnes1 @distractingbeth @mdpplgtz03 @sjsmith56 @winterslove1917 @ryuuisthecutest @buckybarnessimpp @slowdownbeforeyouregretit @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom @thedonswife13 @sarahdonald87 @pono-pura-vida

#see through my eyes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #single dad!bucky #single dad au #accidental pregnancy au

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thisblogisaboutabook · 5 months

Note

Hello lovely!! Would you ever do a part 2 to Bad Idea right? Maybe the IC finds out about reader and Eris? 👀👀

I had planned for Part 1 to be a drabble only but I loved your ask so much that it’s going to be a short series now! I present to you, part 2. Thank you for this fun request!

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 2

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Sleeping with a male your dad hates is fun… until you get caught.

A follow up to the drabble “Bad Idea, Right?”

Part 3

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, language

Holy mother and all the bullshit gods my ancestors prayed to, I’m so royally fucked.

A necklace. A damned necklace, and my family’s overall inability to mind their own business, sent everything spiraling.

Nobody paid any mind to the jewelry I chose for Starfall until Amren set her eyes on the unique amber and gold hued necklace dangling from my neck - coveting the thing. Its unique jewels apparently something she’d never seen in her over 15,000 years of living.

Lucien, who had come with Vassa, Jurian, and Helion in tow, of course, overheard the conversation. With his wealth of knowledge and abundant need to be the biggest know-it-all in the room, Lucien chimed in that the gems came from the Autumn Court, typically only worn by the leading family and their closest affiliates. His brows furrowed with contemplation as he waived a hand toward my décolletage asking, “Which makes me wonder, where did you come across this piece?”

Damn it, Lucien.

And damn it, Eris. Leave it the prick to give me a gift that’s as much of a pain in my ass as he is.

Reading the look on my face, Lucien and Vassa’s son, my childhood best friend, Adish cut in- “Oh, I uh, I gave it to her for her birthday a couple of years ago. I’m surprised you two forgot.”

Lucien and Vassa looked to eachother in contemplation, not totally buying it, but not pressing further.

I mouthed a “thank you” to Adish before Amren pulled me back in to inspect the piece further.

Naturally, Uncle Rhys had step in at that moment - reusing the same joke that I have heard a hundred times since I was a child - Amren is a firedrake who will snatch the necklace right off me blah, blah, blah.

“It really is a lovely piece.” Aunt Feyre joined in, my mother, Aunt Nesta, and father with her. The three sisters inspecting it closely.

Holy shit, have these people never seen a necklace before?

I could have sworn that one of my shadows rolled it’s not existent eyes in agreement.

“Where did you get that?” Dad asked. “Apparently I need to keep it in mind for your mother and aunts for Solstice.”

“Oh, um, it’s from the Autumn Court, Adish gave it to me two years ago for my birthday.” I replied, innocently tracing a finger along the gems as I gave a forced smile.

It was then that my all-to-observant, spymaster jr., little sneak of a sister made her presence known. “No he didn’t! Adish got you a scarf from the continent that year.”

How the hell did this little shit remember these things!?

“Whatever, Azalea, it must have been a different year then.”

“No sissy! He never bought you a necklace - he bought you a bracelet, and two pairs of earrings, but never a necklace.”

Good gods. This child.

Rolling my eyes at my snoop of a sister, I coolly replied “Whatever, Azzy, I suppose my memory isn’t quite as good as yours.” Silently praying to whoever would listen that nobody pressed further. Dad’s shadows agitated but settled when my own shadows wound over to mingle with them.

Amren gave me a suspicious look that could only mean trouble - but fortunately kept her mouth shut. As the remainder of the group dispersed to interact with the crowd, Amren grabbed my arm.

“Be careful, girl. I know better than to tell you what to do, just… keep your wits about you.”

Her intense eyes locked with mine to which I shrugged the comment off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I am not a fool, girl. I do not know you to be one either. Be careful.” the tiny fae chided as she sauntered off to find Varian.

Keeping a collected facade but needing some fresh air, I casually made my way toward a secluded balcony on the backside of the House of Wind.

Finally free of the crowd, I released all of the tension I’d been holding in, taking deep breaths in an effort of calming my nerves. I am an adult capable of making my own choices but… given the inner circles complicated history with Eris, and my fathers overall hatred of the male, I’d rather nobody know that we fuck each others brains out on occasion.

Frowning down at the necklace, I muttered curses to it that would make my mother, dear sweet Elain, keel over.

Too wrapped up in berating the jewelry, I didn’t notice the male behind me. I startled at the smooth voice cutting through the silence, his low tone dripping in lust. “Ah, little Shadowsinger, If you’d prefer a ring instead, I’m sure we could arrange that. Though I do say the necklace compliments your lovely assets quite well.” His eyes roved hungrily up and down my body, a primal gaze darkening those amber eyes and filled my core with heat. I nearly rolled my eyes back into my head as the intoxicating scent of mahogany and crackling fire filled my nostrils.

Regaining my wits and refusing to let him see how he effected me, I met those bedroom eyes with nothing but contempt. “Fuck off, Eris. Why are you here?”

He stepped closer. I stood my ground, no way was I going balk away from the challenge.

“Come now, little one, is that any way to speak to a High Lord? I was invited to the celebration tonight, as all of Prythian’s leaders were.”

Fair enough, but I wouldn’t let him win that easily. Waving him off, I commanded “Go find somewhere else to be a pain in the ass.”

Eris closed the distance, grabbing the wrist I had waived him away with. His head dipped down as his plush lips grazed the shell of my ear. His deep, sensual voice sent chills through me as he replied, “I can only promise pleasure when it comes to that beautiful ass, Y/N.”

Releasing my hand, Eris reached both hands around me, palms pressing into my ass as his fingers hitched my dress up to expose my thighs and barely clothed sex to the brisk evening air. In one swift motion he scooped me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around him. As his lips crashed into mine I bit the lower one just hard enough to draw blood before licking it away and kissing the hurt. His tongue then swooped into my mouth, battling for dominance against my own, a low growl escape his throat, reverberating through me.

Placing me on the balcony ledge, Eris situated himself between my spread legs, desperately palming at my breasts as I threw my head back, exposing the column of my throat to him. He lightly nipped down the length of my neck and my protruding collar bones before falling to his knees before me. His lust-filled eyes met mine as he cooed, “You could bring any male to their knees before your beauty, but this…” he pushed aside the lace thong, exposing me to him, “this gorgeous, dripping cunt belongs to your High Lord, and your High Lord only.”

His skilled tongue deftly swiped up my center, eliciting a moan from me. I looked down into his eyes - mesmerized by the amber hues peering at me from under his lashes. My fingers found purchase in his fiery red locks as I firmly stated, “I belong to no one and you are not my High Lord, Eris.”

His responding nip to my swollen clit drew a sharp gasp from me. Eris let out a satisfied hum in return as he resumed feasting like a starved male. Perhaps that’s what kept drawing me back into the bastards bed - his insatiable hunger fueled by that eagerness to please that only amplified with the calloused remarks I threw at him. Most females fell at his feet - throwing themselves at the chance to serve a High Lord. Whereas most males ran as far away as they could upon realizing that my father was the infamous Shadowsinger.

One of my shadows caressed the base of his neck, circling back around as to tilt his chin up. His needy eyes met mine again. “Fuck me, Eris.”

In an instant he was up, standing before me. Biting my lip, I clenched my thighs together at the sight of the incredibly evident arousal pressing against his trousers. He fumbled with the buckles on them, when suddenly a grating sound filled the air - the balcony doors flying open. “Sissy! Aunt Mor wants to see your neckl- oh wow, who is that!?”

Fuck me. This cannot be happening.

I jumped up, pulling my dress down before my little sister could see the exposed flesh.

I scrambled for words, voice cracking as I scolded, “She can wait, Azzy, just go back inside.”

It was too late though, as my father’s shadow that had been trailing her all evening had already reported back and before Eris or I could flee, my father, mother, Uncle Rhys, and Lucien winnowed onto the balcony.

————————————————-

Stay tuned for part three!

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cerastes · 1 year

Note

so Drimo for those of us who do not know what is the Armored Core series about [leaves out convenient soapbox for no reason]

If you asked a room of 100 people nowadays, "do you guys know FromSoftware?", the majority of them would stand up and answer, "oh, yeah! The guys that made Dark Souls, right?" You would hear about people wondering when Bloodborne will be ported to PC, or when it will get a sequel. You would hear lamentation for the lack of Sekiro DLC. You would hear praise and anticipation for Elden Ring DLC.

If you were in 2008 and asked a room of 100 people, "do you guys know FromSoftware?", maybe 4 would stand up and say "Oh, the guys that make Armored Core, right? My cousin had it, it looked ok."

The truth of the matter is, FromSoft was a niche studio before Demon's Souls planted a seed and it grew into the massive tree we know as Dark Souls, and its countless branches lush with beautiful flowers, like Bloodborne, Sekiro, and Elden Ring. It even inspired nearby trees, all beautiful in their own right! Trees like Code Vein, Nioh, and others.

But I'm not here to talk about fucking trees and their god damn branches.

I'm here to talk about the sterile wasteland, the wilderness of fallen angels, where the ocean meets the sand. I'm here to talk about pre-Soulsborne FromSoft, when FromSoftware was an unknown, niche, small video game developer barely hanging on to relevancy. They had games like King's Field. They had games like Shadow Tower. They had games like Armored Core. Hell, all of these games still live on in Soulsborne! Did you know? The notorious Mushroom enemies that punch your entire lifebar out from Dark Souls are originally from 1999's Shadow Tower:

Iconic boss fight, Seath the Scaleless from Dark Souls? He's originally from King's Field 2!

The well-loved bald rascal with a penchant for annoying fighting styles and kicking, Patches? Originally from Armored Core! Lucky Patches AKA Patch the Good Luck:

The Moonlight Greatsword? That's originally from King's Field:

Knight Commander Dragonslayer Ornstein? The Bloodborne Reiterpallasch? Armored Core originals, baby:

The truth is, Soulsborne is as dear to old school FromSoft fans such as myself as it is because it carries the past of FromSoft, it carries part of all the old games. The old, niche, unknown FromSoft that we fell in love with lives on in this new, successful, popular FromSoft of nowadays, all without selling out. FromSoft's design philosophy and mission statement has always been to make things that are out there, that aren't generic, that have that slab of esotericism to it, that are inspired and raw and difficult and challenging and oh so rewarding. Soulsborne wasn't a surprise hit. Soulsborne exists built on a foundation of trial and error that carries in its DNA years upon years upon years of difficult, niche titles. I've not even mentioned all the Tenchu references that Sekiro has! How the Powderkeg weapons from Bloodborne are mostly Armored Core weapons scaled down to human size, such as the iconic Stake Driver being the mighty Kiku from Armored Core!

Armored Core was the biggest franchise FromSoft had prior to Soulsborne. The biggest. And it wasn't too big, to be honest. A rather niche, unknown game franchise with numerous titles that did just well enough to justify sequels, with strong cult followings, Armored Core is all about that mecha high octane action, right? Well, it's 50% about that mecha high octane action! Your average Armored Core is a high intensity, breakneck fast game full of machine guns, laser swords and huge explosions when you're in the field, but in order to be able to do that, you must construct your machine, your Armored Core, piece by piece. Not just the chest core or the head piece or the arms, we're taking about generator, radiator, targeting system, thrusters, subsystems, all of that! And each given piece has a stat screen that looks like this:

This is a single laser rifle's stat screen. Every piece has about this many numbers to it. As you can imagine, it wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but for those that took the time to understand it? That familiarized themselves with the game well enough to just be able to look at a piece and understand what it did and roughly how well it performed? Oh, this was to die for. The amount of unique builds, of mechs that were your very own, unique creation, catering to your own specific tastes, was basically infinite. You could make your own dream gameplay machine, that operated in exactly the way you wanted it to. 50% of the time, you were in your garage, tinkering, mixing and matching different parts to improve your Armored Core more and more, to make it better, comfier, stronger, cooler.

Do you know what was influential in Dark Souls' success? And I say this with all the love in my heart, as a massive Dark Souls fan: It was simplification. Dark Souls is a different beast in many regards, of course, compared to Armored Core, but what Dark Souls did was simplify the Armored Core formula, in both comparative gameplay execution and building, and focused on other aspects, like making incredibly cool unique enemies, polished combat, great enemy placement, the works. But end of the day, Dark Souls is a simplified Armored Core. You're not boosting around and firing laser weapons in Dark Souls, but the fundamentals are all there: Tempo based fighting, with intensifying speed, lots of numbers to play with in order to optimize your character to your preference and needs, and the flexibility to switch around builds to certain degrees, more so in the mid game and late game. Hell, the ever-present "little plain white number above the enemy that shows you how much damage you did recently" and how Poise works in Dark Souls are both originally Armored Core things. Most every Armored Core veteran that I know, myself included, that played Dark Souls just felt it click naturally after a bit. Because it's an extension of Armored Core (and King's Field/Shadow Tower).

Armored Core, since its inception, has been about being a mercenary in a callous world where companies that are as powerful as countries, plural, wage in economic war with each other. Rarely has there ever been a good guy in Armored Core, it's the pristine FromSoft absolutely horrid and doomed world narrative that they love so much. You can even go into debt! Your rewards at the end of any mission are affected by how much ammo you consumed and how banged up your AC got, you have to foot the bill for repairs and ammo (unless your client specifically states that they'll cover it for you), and if you don't perform too well and end up going into sufficiently big debt? Why, you forcibly get put into the Human-PLUS program to offset your debt, which actually makes your stronger, since it gives you the ability to ignore Total Weight restrictions and gives you infinite energy! At the cost of, you know, your humanity. At that point, you're literally just a corporate drone with more machine than brain in the nogging. It's a fancy Easy Mode toggle, so to speak, that comes with lore. This game is from 1997. Even from back then, they were making stuff like this. The setting of Armored Core is ruthless, cruel, and brutal... And yet, beautiful, the little things, they are there. But I won't tell you about them. You have to find them yourself. The beautiful things only have value if you find them in a horrid world by your own merit.

This is true for Armored Core, and this is true for Dark Souls.

Armored Core, on a personal level, is what I grew up with, what inspired me as a child, the kind of storytelling that gives you a few explicit morsels, and the rest, figure it out yourself. Armored Core is basically what came before Dark Souls. I consider Soulsborne sequels to Armored Core. They are so very alike.

Brutal gameplay, challenging management, ruthless storytelling... It's heaven.

Armored Core is a series of a gaming era long gone. Armored Core is the opposite of "cinematic experience" games. Armored Core is brutal, it wants to test you, it grants you no quarter, but it wants you to succeed. Armored Core wants you to master its management systems and its high speed combat. Armored Core wants you to be a sharper, better you.

Armored Core is a video game series about giant robots blowing each other to bits.

Armored Core is both a test and teacher, and it wants you to win. It wants you to become the you that can beat it.

Armored Core loves you. Armored Core will do all in its power to prevent you from winning. Armored Core knows you can win, which is why it tries so hard.

Armored Core is a good video game.

#zeravmain #armored core #dark souls #fromsoft

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ladykibutsuji · 11 months

Text

“Treat You Better"

Tsugikuni Brothers x Reader

Chapter 3: Your Mistake Is My Opportunity

Yoriichi x Reader x Michikatsu

MODERN AU

A SERIES

WARNING: Smut Scene, Swearing

I don't own the picture and dividers used.

"f-fuck n-ngh~", Yoriichi was in between of your thighs eating your pussy out while michikatsu is behind you playing with your boobs, circling and pinching your nipples while his heavy breathing hits the back of your neck.

"I-i'm Close" Yoriichi then stopped eating you out as he stood up and wiped his lips with his thumb, "Why did you stop? I was closee" You whined.

"I got tired of playing around, let's take this serious" He started undoing his pants while michikatsu chuckled "Impatient aren't we?" Yoriichi just ignored his older brother while you stared intensely at yoriichi who's undoing his pants, This was your first time seeing the brother's cocks so you were curious and had your eyes focused on him. michikatsu was still behind you and his hands are getting down to your thighs, He started to circle around your clit earning a small whimper from you.

Yoriichi was now only wearing his boxer, You could already see the tip of his cock until..

RING RING

Time: 9:00

You suddenly woke up. "HAH?" You immediately sat up and began scanning your surroundings, You were panting and sweating from your dreams so you rested your forehead on your hand trying to calm yourself down

"Man was that a nightmare? Or a dream com- NO I CAN'T BE THINKING LIKE THAT OH MY GOD" You slapped yourself and got embarrassed of your own dirty thoughts, do you really view the brothers in that way?

You shook off the unbelievable thoughts raging in your head, You immediately grabbed your phone to check the time and it was already 9:04.

"Aw, I fall asleep on the couch while watching the latest episode of Demon Slayer I wonder what did I missed?" You got up and went to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast however when you opened the fridge it was empty, You tried checking the cabinets to see if there are still some Noodles left unfortunately you ran out aswell. You sigh to yourself and decided to go to a grocery to restock your sources.

You are about to go to the bathroom to clean yourself before going to the grocery until a notification pop out your screen.

> NEW MESSAGE FROM MUZAN KIBUTSUJI

—

[Muzan Kibutsuji]

Good morning Y/N, how are you?

[Y/N]

I'm doing great, how about you?

[Muzan Kibutsuji]

I'm good, thank you for asking.

It's been a week since we last saw each other I was thinking if you wanted to go watch a movie with me?

[Y/N]

I'm interested! What is the movie about? 👀

[Muzan Kibutsuji]

You will have to find out yourself.

[Y/N]

Aw:(

[Muzan Kibutsuji]

See you at 3

[Y/N]

Cyaaa

Wait! what about your coat?

—

You waited for his reply but after a few minutes he just left you on read not even bothering to reply, "Wow he really left me on read, guess I'll just have to keep his coat"

It's been a week since that weird incident occured and you got saved by no other than Muzan Kibutsuji, The one your mom and yoriichi despise the most. Of course You didn't told anyone about the encounter with Kibutsuji since you knew that yoriichi or your mother would probably forbid you to get close to him but you couldn't help but want to be closer to kibutsuji after all he is the one who saved you

Fast forward, You are now in the bathroom taking a warm shower while playing your favorite music on your phone. After a long shower you dried your (H/L) (H/C) while brushing it, After it was all dried out you got out the bathroom and walked towards the closet to pick out an outfit, you picked out a white sweater and pants that goes well with your soft white sweater.

You took a look in the mirror to check if it was okay, "Alright! I'm all good" you hummed taking your purse from the table, You sprayed your perfume all over yourself and after that you walked down the stairs to where your shoes are.

You are about to go to the door where most of your shoes are placed when you noticed that your living room's window is wide open

"eh? Did I left it open?" You questioned yourself, you just shrugged it off thinking that you probably must of have left it open since there was no one else in the house but you so who else could open it? You closed the window and went near the door to put on your white shoes with low socks.

As soon as you are done doing your shoes, you walked towards the door to exit your House after you are outside you locked the door behind you with a key and later on stuffing the keys onto your pockets.

'Behind You'

You quickly turned around because of the voice in your head thinking that someone is behind you but nobody was there.

You panicked for a short amount of time then you thought about how much coffee you consumed last night, You assumed that maybe it's just the side effects of drinking too much coffee "Is this the side effects of drinking too much coffee?"

You are about to walk over to the garage until you stopped on your tracks, "I'm too lazy to drive on my own I'll just take the bus", you began walking away from your house to wait for an upcoming bus.

After a few minutes of waiting a bus finally appeared and you entered the bus, observing the bus there was only 5 people including yourself. You sat near the window and took out your phone to prevent yourself from boredom

You wanted to chat the tsugikuni Brothers but things was still awkward for Michikatsu while Yoriichi is probably busy as of now based on his status being 5 hours offline. To entertain yourself from boredom you decided to chat your group of frienfs

—

[Y/N]

Hellooooo

—

No response. All of your friends is probably busy right now so here you are dying out of boredom, you decided to just take a nap but then you remembered you still have one more person to chat Aizetsu

—

[Y/N]

[Aizetsu]

Oh hi, I thought you forgot about me T~T

[Y/N]

Almost did

[Aizetsu]

[Y/N]

I'm just kidding HAHAHA, how are you?

[Aizetsu]

Life is tough my brothers have been bullying me straight for days and my older brother Sekido kept on scolding me even though I didn't do stuff 🥲

[Y/N]

That's tough, Just ignore them. By the way I have a question to ask

[Aizetsu]

Yeah?

[Y/N]

Do you know a man who goes by the name 'Muzan Kibutsuji'

[Aizetsu]

Weird question but yes I do.

[Y/N]

How did you got to know him?

[Aizetsu]

Almost everyone knows him, he's a well known celebrity

[Y/N]

I mean do you have connections with him?

[Aizetsu]

Sort of

[Y/N]

How

[Aizetsu]

My family works under his family, Like my grandfather Urami is one of his men and same goes for my brothers.

Why so curious?

So does that mean you work for him aswell?

[Y/N]

Secret

[Aizetsu]

Secret

[Y/N]

>:(

[Aizetsu]

Don't get mad at me:(

—

You are about to reply to Aizetsu until you noticed that you already reached your destination, so you left him on read

> NEW MESSAGE

(Aizetsu: Seener 😭)

You didn't notice the notification from your phone as you are too busy getting off the bus.

While walking towards the grocery you noticed eyes on you , You look around the area trying to figure out who is looking at you from the crowds.

The crowd was pretty busy and they were minding their own business so you just shook the thoughts off your head thinking that you are just being paranoid.

Unfortunately, Every step you took you couldn't ignore the guts.

Tap

You flinched when someone tapped your shoulders from behind, you immediately turned around in a defensive position "WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING M- wait Michikatsu? muichiro?" You calmed down after noticing that it was just your friends who tapped you from behind, you took a deep breath while they look confused from your sudden reaction a second ago.

"Sorry, did I scared you?" Said michikatsu, He was wearing a dark purple with black patterns hoodie and black pants, his hair was well hidden in his hoodie while he wore a pair of sunglasses and mask. Same could be said for muichiro except his hoodie is white and mint green in a pattern of mist.

"Michikatsu you gotta be careful nexttime I almost had an heart attack" you paused for a bit catching your breath "your outfit look silly" You teased, though you knew exactly the reason why both michikatsu and Muichiro are dressed like that since celebrities can't be seen too much in public or else it would be pure chaos.

"My apologies, may I ask what brought you here?" michikatsu inquired while muichiro waved at you, you waved back and answered michikatsu "To shop obviously" You paused after realizing that yoriichi and Yuichiro isn't with them, normally it would be the 4 of them hanging out "What happened to yoriichi and Yuichiro? Why are they not with you?"

"They are busy" He answered, you just let an 'oh' knowing that yoriichi is a busy man especially due to the fact of yoriichi lately trending all over social media, yoriichi is a rising star. While for yuichiro he was some sort of introvert and he prepares staying inside the estate though he is also a rising star since he played a huge role in a famous movie same to where muichiro did aswell.

After having your conversation with the two, the 3 of you decided to do grocery together since they were also there to restock their sources, Michikatsu bought a lot of vitamins while muichiro only bought foods. Currently you are in the Food area picking something out from the retail shelving until you caught a glimpse of someone in a white hoodie looking at you but it suddenly disappeared in a blink of an eye.

"Huh?" you felt chills down your spine so you immediately rushed over to the two with your basket. Muichiro noticed you speeding towards them so he asked you if you are okay and you struggle to talk maybe they might think you are weird.

Regardless of those thoughts, You decided to tell them about your worries because you have been feeling like someone is watching you for a week, you tried disregarding it thinking that you are just overthinking it but you couldn't help but feel that this might be something serious.

"I'm not okay, someone is watching me" You took a deep breath looking around your surroundings, "atleast that's what my instincts told me, it have been like this for a week."

Michikatsu and muichiro stared at each other for a few seconds before returning their gaze back to you, "Are you sure you are not feeling tired Y/N?" muichiro asked, it look like muichiro didn't believe you since you openly talk to him about watching too much horror movie with stalkers in it and he thinks that you applied it in reality however for Michikatsu this seems like a serious matter because you never really talk about these kind of things "I see, if you want I could help you place a couple of CCTV in your house to ensure your safety or hire a guard for you" He offered.

You thought about it for a while and it was indeed a good idea of placing CCTV around your house how could you not think of that sooner but talking about a guard, you aren't really comfortable with having guards around since you wouldn't have too much privacy and you have a 'long history' with guards in your childhood making you despise some of them. "I'm not comfortable with having a guard around me all the time but I'll take your idea into putting a CCTV all around my house."

The 3 of you ended up buying a couple of CCTV to put around your house while muichiro was chatting with someone on his phone the whole time and he seem troubled. As soon as the 3 of you are finished with the groceries all of you got in the vehicle, Michikatsu told you to wait for a few minutes since he forgot to buy something so here you are In car's backseat with muichiro on the other side still chatting someone.

"someone got a gf?"

"no"

"I doubt it, why is your eyes too fixated on the screen?"

"what? Are you jealous because I'm not giving you attention?"

You sighed at his sarcastic response, he didn't even bother take his eyes off the screen so you just assumed that it was something important for him to be so focus on. "if you want attention you could just ask for it" You rolled your eyes at him this guy surely have guts to be jokingly flirting with you well it's not that you mind since you have been friends with him for a long time.

"I definitely do not nee-" you stopped talking when he suddenly put his phone down and his face leaned closer to yours. He did not have his mask on nor his sunglasses since he took them off the moment he entered michikatsu's car. So now both your faces are just a few inches away from each other and your lips almost touching, you could feel his light breathing as he stared at you intensely

You froze on spot as your cheeks became red, he slightly tilted his head still staring at you while he poke your cheek with his finger "you really are beautiful up close." , his compliment made you almost lose your mind so you shoved his face away from you "Y-you are too close and who the hell taught you that" Stuttering and still red from embarrassment you couldn't look him straight into his eyes so you just closed your own eyes "Was it bad? Uzui-san told me it was a good idea.."

"Don't ever take advice from him. Ever."

The both of you got distracted when someone opened the door, Michikatsu was back "Sorry if I took so long" he apologized as he handed you something...(Favorite/Food)? "I know your love for that food so I decided to buy it for you to help you calm down from your problems."

Your eyes lit up as you hummed, you immediately started thanking him and muichiro is just besides you thinking about why michikatsu only got you food but not him. Michikatsu started driving and muichiro is just playing on his phone to kill time while you are eating your favorite food.

After a few minutes of driving, muichiro placed his head on your shoulder while taking a deep breath. "tired?" You asked to which he just hummed in response, you decided to share some of your food with him since he does look tired "Wanna try my food?" you asked while he muttered "sure" so you feed him your food with chopsticks.

Michikatsu who is watching from his rear view mirror was jealous, he was salty because he wished it was him getting fed by you, now he's wishing he didn't brought muichiro along

"I'll drop you off first to your estate muichiro." said michikatsu, muichiro tried to protest "my estate is closer to yours so why can't we just go over to y/n firs-"

"Stop complaining or get out the car", Muichiro who is still on your shoulders just rolled his eyes and you wonder why michikatsu is in a bad mood. You wanted to ask him if he was okay but this definitely does not look like the perfect time.

A few more minutes passed by and you are already at muichiro's estate, before muichiro gets out the car he gave you a light kiss on the cheeks which made you flustered as hell while michikatsu had an annoyed look. as soon as muichiro closed the car's door Michikatsu took this chance to talk things out with you.

"Y/N." He called out to you his eyes still focused on the road ahead of him, "hmm?"

"We need to talk"

???'S POV

Tch, this is too easy.

For the past few hours I have been placing these small cameras in places where I was instructed to put, 'this will ensure her safety' they say.

However I have to hurry up, she might return Any moment now.

"we followed the car she is in, based from my calculations they will be home in about 10 minutes or so. Make sure you hid all the evidence. Pretend you are never there."

"Fuck you, I know so shut your damn mouth"

The guy speaking from the small radio irritates me so much, hell I'd rather get arrested than work with that guy but master wanted me to participate and I couldn't defy his orders.

I double checked all the places where I hid the cameras and made sure that they stay in put. I was about to go exit throughout the window when my eye caught something in her bedroom, Curiosity got the best of me so I approached it.

"What the fuck? Isn't this.."

"Get going, They are approaching"

3RD PERSON POV

"Ouch"

You had your other arm around Michikatsu's shoulders while his hand is around your waist assisting your body to walk, you are having trouble with walking due to what happened earlier, "Sorry I'll be careful nexttime."

"It's not your fault so don't blame yourself I did this to myself", You reached out to your pockets to get your keys, after managing to get a hold of your keys you unlocked the door while michikatsu helped you get to your couch, he gently placed you down and went to the kitchen to get you cold water.

After a few seconds he returned to you with a cup of water on his hand, "You didn't have to"

"It's fine, have it. I'm sorry if you tripped over my foot" Michikatsu apologized again, it was his 10th time apologizing "Heyyy like I said it's fine!"

Gently taking the cup of water from michikatsu's hand you quickly drink it while michikatsu just stared at you with full of admiration

"Oh what about the camera? Should I help you place them?" Thinking about how michikatsu already did so much for you such as paying for your grocery you decided to lie about not wanting to put camera anymore so you wouldn't have to be a burden to him anymore. "ah I changed my mind, having cameras all around my house is weird" At first he raised his eyebrow in confusion since earlier you were so eager to put cameras around your house but he just decided to respect your decision "Alright, but if you need help I'm here'

You just hummed in response, he fixed his hoodie and hair before going out. He wanted to stay for a little longer but he still have other schedules so he had no other choice but to fulfill his duties.

"before I go" His hand grabbed your chin as he leaned closer to your face, "I'm quite jealous of my cousin being able to be clingy towards you" he then kissed you on your lips as you melted at the sensation. The kiss was going deeper and deeper until you snapped out your thohghts Wait this is wrong

Friends don't act this way.

You are not even his Type.

This is wrong

You gently pushed him away while he look confused, "What's wrong?"

"this is wrong, we can't be seen together. Your career might fall apart"

"Nobody is even here, it's just us Y/N", Even though michikatsu already apologized about his cruel rejection words the wounds he left remained, it was the type of wound that one can not heal.

You don't want to get caught like this with Michikatsu, you don't want the media to find out about this, You don't want his reputation ruined because of a mere artist. "Leave at Once."

Michikatsu had an expression of shock, he look like he wanted to say something but seeing you like that...he understands you need space. "understood" Michikatsu exits your house and took one final look at you before leaving, he knew he messed up and he couldn't do something about it so he just sigh in frustration and closed the door behind him.

Tears started falling from eyes as you hated yourself for pushing him away even though you wanted him you love him. But it needed to be done, you wanted him to have the best career so you did what you thought was best.

You decided to take a warm bath to clean your thoughts before going to hangout with Kibutsuji but since you are still struggling to walk you held onto any item and furniture that could support you.

CRASH

You accidentally knocked your own vase while holding onto the table for support, you stared at the broken vase Infront of you and noticed something unusual

"is that a recording device?" You bent down to the broken vase to confirm your thoughts but when you tried to take it a broken piece of the vase got onto your hand so now you got a small injury, you ignored this injury and still took the recording device. You inspect this recording device while sweating

Someone is watching

'Behind you'

You quickly turned around to find no one, the voice in your head is back. you panicked at the thought of someone watching you did they also saw you naked?

You quickly reached out to your phone calling the first person who came across your mind, Muzan Kibutsuji

Ringgg

"pick up...pick up.."

MUZAN'S POV

“all those shitty training and you still can't find it?"

I was scolding akaza for being incompetent until a ringing was heard from my own device, I looked over at the screen only to find her ringing me up. She doesn't usually ring me up randomly so this caught my attention.

"Leave"

"As you wish."

When my subordinate left the room I picked up the call.

(Kibutsuji...you have to help me, Someone placed fucking cctvs all over my house Someone is watching me)

Her voice..she sound like she's scared.

"Oh? Calm yourself down Y/N do you want me to pick you up?"

(Yes please)

(But I have to favor to ask if that's okay..)

"Hm?"

(Can you inspect my house? I don't feel safe)

"Very well"

I hang up on her while a smirk appeared on my face, I don't remember sending anyone to stalk her nor place those CCTV in her house It must be her Mother L/N. What a stupid woman.

Your mistake will be my opportunity.

—

IN THE CORP'S MEETING PLACE

"You found Kibutsuji's coat in my daughter's bedroom?!"

The mother of Y/N L/N was shocked upon seeing the picture of Kibutsuji's coat in her daughter's bedroom, Yoriichi who is also present at the meeting was fuming with rage.

"Sanemi, that is not a nice thing to say to Mrs. L/N" Said by Shinobu Kocho who gave sanemi a dissapointed stare, she knows that y/n getting involved with the kibutsuji is not a good thing but insulting her does no good either

"didn't know your daughter was freaky" The man with spiky white hair said looking unbothered, the other guy with red beads started crying "Poor soul.."

"I went all through that shit just so we could watch over your freaky daughter flirts with our greatest enemy?" Sanemi said in a angry tone, he was annoyed with the fact that he went all through the trouble just to watch over someone who is weak asf and can't even defend herself. "Instead of putting camera all over her room why won't you just tell her to not meatrid-

PUNCH

Everyone got shocked by the sudden action that yoriichi did, the room was suddenly silent and everyone was clearly in shock and disbelief.

The master of the corps just stared at them while Mrs. L/N had her hand in her mouth.

Yoriichi punched sanemi.

Sanemi always had a disrespectful mouth though the member of the corps didn't seem to mind since they got used to it. Even yoriichi didn't even care about sanemi until he started talking shit about Y/N

"Watch your words, You seem to forgot that Y/N is also your superior."

Sanemi was bleeding from his nose and mouth, he look a bit shock aswell not expecting this kind of physical action from yoriichi. He was about to return it to yoriichi until their master stopped them.

"Sanemi."

Sanemi grunts as he contained his anger to not dissapoint his master, he immediately got down on his knees forced to apologize while yoriichi apologized for the mess he caused.

"Master!" kanroji who is in charge of watching over Y/N thru the CCTV was sweating all over "Y/N found one of our hidden cameras!" She paused for a short amount of time trying to catch her breath "Kibutsuji is with her."

"My man, did you poorly hid the cameras or something. That was unflashy" Said by the guy who wore 2 thick golden rings on his upper arms and a tattoo on his other eye. "Shut up."

Yoriichi got pissed off just by hearing the word 'kibutsuji' and your name together in one sentence. He wouldn't let Kibutsuji get to you

"What will our next move will be, Master?" Asked by guy who have a pair of dark blue eyes with long black hair that is Tied into a ponytail.

"I think we made a mistake."

END OF CHAPTER

OFF-SCREEN

• Muichiro noticed that michikatsu gets jealous everytime he makes a move on you so he always does this on purpose just to piss him off

• Starting from this chapter, The corps members will be having a hard time to reach Y/N since she will be living under Kibutsuji's care

• At first, everyone thought that you are in a relationship with muzan which add another reason to why yoriichi wanna blow his brains

• Sanemi is part of your friendgroup and he totally disliked the idea of you getting watched over 24/7 even though he won't admit it. (that's why he tried to protest against it)

• You are not really aware of your friendgroup being in an organization

• After tripping over michikatsu's foot, you fell so badly that you had a minor injury on your leg

#demon slayer #fanfiction #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer muzan #michikatsu x reader #yoriichi x reader #demon slayer yoriichi #kny yoriichi #kokushibo

286 notes · View notes

kedsandtubesocks · 2 months

Text

seasons of you (year 1 - winter)

Blacksmith!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: your first winter in the valley brings in a frosty breeze & a push towards a certain blacksmith

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a farmer & has a family but no physical description, shy & sweet!Frankie, major pining & yearning, friends to something more, Frankie being previously married/a bit secretive about his life, gift exchange as love language, use of nickname (Frankie calls reader “little farmer” affectionately but it’s no reflection on reader’s size), blooming romance

word count: 5.6k

a/n: we’ve arrived to Frankie’s first piece in our Stardew AU series! We’re starting ‘in the middle of things’ & it’s meant to show how slow/shy our relationship with Frankie unfolds that romance just starts rolling now, plus I needed Frankie’s story to begin this way so something else can maybe unfold in year two but that’s all I’m gonna saying lol, again couldn’t have done this without @lowlights @swiftispunk @perotovar & @burntheedges you babes are my guiding stars always and I’m eternally grateful. And to you, if you’re reading this, thank you too lovely

Snow crunches under your boots and the chilly air seeping through your coat feels different. This would be your first serious winter storm and you already sense it approaching.

Yanking open the blacksmith’s door, a wave of heat washes over and you sigh.

Thankfully Frankie’s shop is still open and you almost cry relieved.

“Sorry!” You apologize walking further towards the counter. “I know there’s five minutes left before closing, but I just wanted to swing by!”

You wanted to pick up your newly forged ax before the storm hit and of course…

You wanted to see him.

Autumn kept you so busy with the farm and the fall festival. Now you hope to see more of your favorite blacksmith.

Waiting for him, your eyes wander.

The shop, with its eternal flame flickering, holds so much personality in its walls. A military pilot flag hangs by the front. The low radio plays a soft rock ballad. A bulletin board by the side of the counter is covered in various flyers and photos. Your favorite snapshots are one of a smiling little baby girl with sweet chubby cheeks you still haven’t gotten to ask Frankie who she is. There’s another photo of a group of men in military uniform.

It’s all so familiar and welcoming now.

With all the time in the mines, you wonder if maybe your pickaxe needs work too. Sliding your backpack off, you examine your trusty tool. Worn, but not weathered, the steel speaks of the craftsmanship and skill of the blacksmith who first forged it for you.

“You waiting for that tool to do something or should I leave you two alone?”

Frankie.

You fight back a smile when his warm deep teasing voice floats in.

Frankie wasn’t this easy going with you at first. He kept his distance, was polite but rather reserved.

“He’s just shy. He was like that when I first moved in too,” Leah, your closest friend here in the valley, reassured you one night at the saloon.

Now those beautiful gem eyes of Francisco Morales blaze straight at you as he walks towards the counter. Wearing his trademark baseball cap you playfully glare at him.

“I’m just checking to see if I need to complain to my blacksmith about my pickaxe needing work.” You quip back to him.

“Oh well shit, thank god that isn’t me.” Frankie smirks and you snort at his comment.

Frankie reminds you of the flames and steel he works with. Hard working and gently intense, yet a warmth gleams beneath him and fills an entire room just like the heat from his kilns.

“You just had to come in five minutes before I closed huh?” Frankie sighs dramatically.

You think he’s teasing but guilt still strikes you quick. Rambling out apologies, you scramble to explain how it’s mainly for precaution with the storm coming.

“I can always come back later!” You urge panicking.

He chuckles, cozily deep, and you sputter to a stop.

“I kid little farmer, I kid.”

That nickname he so casually gave to you just this month sparks an electric warmth through your entire body. You weakly laugh back, not able to fully process a reply.

Frankie’s gorgeous features, his striking nose, and his warm eyes disarm you in a way that makes your knees want to fold.

He moves around the tables and workbenches to pull out your ax.

“There it is!” You happily cheer.

Frankie even playfully shows off the sleek new tool like he’s a hostess in a daytime game show and you clap appreciatively while you laugh. It surprises you how silly sometimes Frankie can be.

Moving back to the counter he places your ax onto it. Then he leans towards you and begins explaining what upgrades he did.

You should be listening, but you can’t. Not with him leaning so close to you.

You’ve had an embarrassing crush on Frankie since the first moment Mayor Lewis introduced you to him. But with how busy you’ve been settling into the valley, along with how shy and reserved Frankie is, your feelings simply have stayed crystallizing inside you.

Frankie’s diligent eyes are so focused on his work and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. How dedicated he is to his craft, how quietly passionate he is, you yearn to fall into him more.

Suddenly Frankie’s eyes flicker up and catch you staring at him. In a panic your gaze snaps down to your tool.

“Yup! Looks like it can still cut a tree! Good job, Morales.” You lamely reply and Frankie snorts.

You do sincerely thank him and even offer to get him coffee for making him stay this late.

Frankie waves you off casually. “Maybe next time, besides you gotta get home before the storm hits.”

He’s right. There's still so much you need to do before the night comes. The clatter of Frankie slowly shutting everything down for the night draws you out of your thoughts.

“Do you need any help?” You offer.

“Nah, I’m good. Plus I don’t need your pretty hands getting burned.” Frankie replies back.

Although he’s not looking at you, his sly compliment sends a spark through your body.

Scrambling to put your ax in its guard and then shoving it into your backpack, you thank Frankie again and plan to quietly leave.

“Wait!” Frankie suddenly calls out and you freeze.

“Wait, don’t head out yet. Let me walk you home.”

The chill from outside settles into the shop now that the fires are extinguished. Yet, Frankie’s words ignite a dizzying heat.

“Oh no it’s okay!” You quickly stammer out as a nervous energy spikes in you.

You know he lives besides the forge. It wouldn’t make sense for him to walk you home then have to head the way back here.

The lights from the back area turn off and Frankie already walks out towards you with his coat on.

Your eyes go wide.

“Come on.” He gently nudges you with his kind eyes and your body moves on autopilot.

Once outside the cold galvanizes you. The sky above stretches out a misty blue while the edges of evening’s midnight coloring slowly creeps in.

The entire walk back to your farm Frankie stays in step with you. The conversation is light, easy, simple talk of how his and your day went. Your heart hammers in your chest. Yet, it’s comforting to have someone beside you. He’s warm and stays close.

Now your farm stretches before you a soft welcome home. Frankie, like the gentleman he is, walks you to the door.

Appreciative, you warmly thank him and wish him a safe trip back home.

“Thanks and stay warm, little farmer.” He grins softly, kind.

After a sweet wave goodbye to him, you walk off the porch to do all the final errands before you call it a night.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” Frankie suddenly calls out and curiosity colors his voice.

You glance back and see he hasn’t moved an inch.

With an eased sleepy smile you tell him you have a few last minute things you need to do. Like check on your winter seeds, double check the coop and then make sure the pipes are covered.

“You need help?” He warmly asks concerned and sincere.

“Oh no, I’m good I promise!” You reply. If you were braver you’d joke about not wanting to hurt his pretty hands.

“Besides, you need to get home.” You firmly tell him.

It’s getting darker, not completely night out, but you feel guilty for Frankie walking out here.

So with one final sigh you give him a warm goodbye.

“Stay warm tonight, Morales.”

Frankie quietly grins back and you hope he makes it home safe. Now your focus turns to the small field and you kneel before it.

Your winter seeds aren’t ready just yet. A dread fills you wondering if they will last against the storm.

“What are you growing?”

Frankie.

You didn’t even hear his footsteps in the snow. Whipping your head up you watch Frankie lean down to squat beside you.

“You should be walking home!” You cry out surprised.

Frankie shrugs sleepily. “It’s still early, I’ll be fine.”

You make an indignant squeak that makes him chuckle. Frankie’s eyes return to the little saplings still making their way through the snow, stubbornly growing against the harsh winter.

“They’re just winter seeds.” You sigh explaining how you’ve been growing them mainly for the experience and money.

“You think they’re gonna make it?” He asks gently.

You hope so.

You’re about to get up when Frankie quickly stands above with his hand outstretched to you. Even though your hands are gloved and so are his, a flutter runs through your chest when you place your hand in his. Frankie lifts you up effortlessly and you thank him, trying to steady yourself.

“Alright, what’s next?” Frankie asks light.

“For you to go home, Morales!” You laugh.

“Well you’re walking towards the barn so…kinda doesn’t seem like you’re finished yet.” Frankie comments almost shyly as he stays walking beside you.

“I’m not, but I don’t need your help. Go home!” You urge with a weak laugh. Frankie simply shrugs.

Sliding open the coop door, warmth begs you to come inside. You’re thankful for investing in those barn heaters.

“Your chickens are so big.” Frankie admires quietly in awe at the sleeping birds.

You smile while double checking the coop. Everything seems secure and safe for whatever might come this way tonight.

Stepping back outside the cold air seems still, quiet.

“You need to head home.” You tell him sternly, more worried than ever about his walk back to town.

“What’s next?” He asks with steeled resolve in his voice with no sign of leaving.

“Go home Francisco.” You firmly urge saying his full name.

But then you catch the sight of your pipes and sigh. So you almost did forget to wrap them.

“You didn't wrap your pipes?” He sounds a bit worried.

“I thought I did earlier…” Now you’re extra grateful for double checking.

When the first snow came at the start of winter, everyone reassured you the pipes would be fine. It was during harder snow storms, blizzards, that you needed to be careful. And now one approaches fast.

Frankie follows you inside the house to grab the necessary materials.

You can’t even process him being in your home for the first time. Simply on a mission you and him work together swiftly grabbing duck tape, a ratty old towel and head to the pipes.

It’s a swift team effort. In minutes, the pipes are securely wrapped safely and snug. You and him even share a triumphant high five.

“I wish I could invite you in for a thank you hot chocolate but you need to head home now.” You press.

Frankie, with his hands in his coat pockets, shrugs easily.

“I can stay for some thank you hot coco.” He offers.

“You gotta get home before the storm hits!” You shriek.

He waves you off casually. “It’s not coming till later tonight I’ll be fine. Now come on, don’t you wanna impress me with your hot chocolate skills?”

The smirk he gives you is so boyishly charming, almost like he’s daring you to invite him in.

This side of him is rare. You’ve only seen him get this smug and cocky at the saloon during a game of darts. Now your heart flutters fast in your chest.

“Come on,” He pouts. “Think of this as a way to help keep me warm on the walk back.”

He makes a point. The panic of wanting him to make it home safe before the storm, becomes smaller against the thought of spending more time with this man.

To have this man in your home.

So with a sigh of defeat you crack. Nudging your chin towards the door, you let Frankie in.

He’s in your home now. You need to stay composed.

You do have budding feelings for him, something that’s evolved out of the simple crush you had. And having him here in your home feels like dipping your toe into the deep end of a pool before jumping in. But you shake those thoughts away.

“Your place is nice.” Frankie admires and you thank him.

It’s still small, cozy now that you’re slowly allowing yourself to fully settle into the old bones of your grandpa’s home.

You want to say more until Frankie’s stomach suddenly growls.

Looking at him with surprised eyes, he stares back with beautiful eyes the size of the full moons.

“Shit.”

You laugh at his panicked response.

“You okay with maybe staying and having a quick dinner or should I really kick you out so you can head home?” You leave the option up to him, place the ball in his court.

Frankie with the most bashful smile slides off his coat.

“Dinner sounds great, little farmer.”

Your heart floats up and gets tangled in your throat, but it’s incredible.

You have the leftover lasagna Evelyn gave you as a thank you. But you also think of the soup recipe you've been dying to make for this weather.

So you leave it up to your guest for the night.

“Soup or leftover lasagna?” You offer light.

Frankie’s eyebrows scrunched together adorable, thinking hard at the two options, and you keep back a giggle.

“Will the soup take you a while to make?” He sounds sweetly concerned.

You swear it will take less than twenty minutes.

“Soup it is.” Frankie grins and it touches his eyes.

You begin grabbing the various ingredients and hate how hyper aware you feel even in your own house.

“So what can I help with?” Frankie now slides beside you and you almost squeak in surprise.

For someone who makes so much noise when he works, you find he’s rather quiet, swift.

“You’re my guest, so don’t worry. Plus you’ve helped enough!” You shoo him away and don’t miss the way he playfully glares at you.

Conversation again unfolds effortlessly with him. Frankie talks about how Mayor Lewis was in the shop earlier bragging about you hitting a full year in the valley.

“And here I thought everyone had stopped gossiping about me.” You snort lightly and start grabbing the bowls.

It will be a full year since you moved to your grandpa’s family farm. However, you wonder when the newness of you living here will subside.

“There’s… still some gossip of course. Small town after all.” Frankie admits shyly, like a school boy admitting a secret.

“But don’t worry, I don’t let any of ‘em talk bad about you in my shop.” Frankie, endearingly sweet, adds. His words knock you breathless and you almost drop the bowls.

“I knew I could count on you, Morales.” You manage to say with a grin.

Thankfully quick, the soup turns out comforting and delicious. Frankie even gushes about how incredible it is and your ego inflates wild.

“Thanks so much for dinner.” Frankie beams with the brightness of a sun.

“Please, I’m the one who’s thankful for all your help.” You earnestly tell him.

“Plus, it’s nice to have good company for dinner.” You add.

“I understand,” Frankie nods. “Gets a bit quiet around my place too. S’nice to change it up.”

A dual sided emotion settles in you. You ache understanding but also yearn to uncover more about this beautiful and sturdy man.

Before you can dive more into this discussion, Frankie’s phone rings wild and loud. Hastily scrambling to grab it, once he discovers who’s calling his face drops for a flicker of a moment.

“Sorry little farmer, but gotta excuse myself real quick is that alright?” His voice wavers.

Of course you earnestly reassure him and even direct him to the bathroom so he can talk in private. Frankie thanks you graciously then rushes out.

The house is quiet and he didn’t fully close the bathroom door fully. So his conversation leaks out enough for you to catch it.

“Wait, so you wannna just spring this on me now?” His voice slices out sharp. You’ve never heard Frankie sound this upset.

“Yes of course I’m gonna take her. But do you know how fucking shitty this is, Diana? Did you even think about my schedule before you fucking planned this trip?” He snaps.

You’ve also never heard him curse and it snaps your snipe straight. He sighs incredibly frustrated and angered, allowing whoever is on the phone to talk.

“Oh yeah, yeah, real fucking nice. Always make me the bad guy, right?”

Then Frankie starts speaking fast and low in Spanish you can’t catch what he’s saying. His tone however feels barbed and venomous.

So many questions bubble up. You believe you heard the name ‘Diana’ but this could be a conversation about anything.

Now thinking about it, even though you’ve been here almost a full year… you don’t know much about Frankie personally and that truth sinks your heart.

Silence now settles into your home until Frankie’s footsteps echo returning down the hall.

“I’m so sorry.” Frankie’s voice jolts the air but with a deep sadness. “I think I’m gonna have to save that cup of hot chocolate for another day.”

You kind of figured. Besides, you didn’t want him to get caught in the storm.

Outside the air has chilled, but thankfully the snow hasn’t begun.

“Had a great time tonight, thanks again for having me for.” An earnest grace radiates from his words.

You’re the one who’s truly thankful for him and you repeatedly tell him that.

Unfortunately a dread hits you. You want to make sure he makes it home. Your worry must be evident on your face because Frankie’s eyes cloud with caution.

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

When you tell him, a beautiful relief melts on Frankie’s face that you almost wish you could capture.

“Oh come on, that’s easy to fix, little farmer.”

He pulls out his phone and hands it to you.

He’s asking for your number.

Your heart beats so rapidly in your ears when you type your digits in.

“I’ll message you when I get home. Promise.” His warm voice is gilded with truth.

“Stay safe okay Frankie?” You tell him and his gorgeous eyes soften.

“Yeah, will do. And you stay safe too okay, little farmer? Stay warm and if you need anything.”

He holds his phone up and playfully wiggles it, a signal to say you should call him. You smile unbearably big and stay on the porch watching him leave until he vanishes from your sight.

You keep busy so you’re not simply staring at your phone waiting for his message. You clean up the remnants of dinner and feel comforted seeing two bowls in your sink.

Then your phone chimes and you scramble.

An message from an unknown number:

[Made it home safe!]

Another message flickers in.

[Also this is Frankie btw :)]

[Hi! 🪓]

The little ax emoji he adds makes you giggle giddy over how adorable this man can be.

You add his name and contact info into your phone. It warms you better than any sip of hot chocolate could.

- ❆ -

“Why do we even gotta celebrate ice?” One of the kids, you think Vincent, shouts that as you reach the edge of the forest and you snicker.

When you heard about the festival of ice, it simply sounded like a way for the town to break up the winter days. But it also reminded you how earnest and endearing the town can be.

Your heart jumps fast spotting Frankie bundled in his cozy jacket. He stands close to Willy and the two of them talk low, completely engaged with each other.

Whatever they’re discussing seems serious, evident in Frankie’s hard frown and Willy’s unusual somber expression. You decide not to interrupt them.

The fishing game is the highlight of the festival and to no shock the town’s head fisherman wins.

“It’s rigged.” You tease Willy and his hearty laugh is contagious.

“Don’t worry, next year you’ll be puttin’ me to shame.” Willy proudly declares.

When the event concludes for the day, Frankie already walks off without saying a word to you.

You try not to think about it too much.

When you’re about to head to bed, you find a message alert on your phone.

Frankie:

[Good try with the fishing tournament today! Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you today… have a lot of stuff going on. Also Willy wins every year. Think Lewis even adds fish into his crate to make sure it happens lol you’re the real winner in my book ]

You laugh as warmth balloons rapidly in your chest.

This message feels like a true victory for the day and it carries you for the rest of the week. Especially with how hard and brisk this final season of the year is.

Everyone warned you winter would be tough, and with your greenhouse still unfixed you’re realizing how true the warning is.

The days drag and bleed together. You throw yourself into the mines trying to gather more resources but that drains you fast. So you start doing a few errands around town to break up the days.

When Frankie requests a certain amount of wood you scramble quickly to complete the errand.

Inside the blacksmith shop, the familiar warmth greets you. However when Frankie walks out, a weariness looms over him. Heavy bangs hang around his eyes even as he smiles thin.

“Hey.” His voice is weary.

“Hey.” You reply back hesitantly. “I uh…have the wood you asked for.”

“Oh shit really?” He perks up. “Thanks, little farmer.”

You beam proud knowing you managed to at least brighten his day a little.

“Wait here, let me get your payment.”

You almost want to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but Frankie scrambles for his wallet.

“So, how ya been?” He asks.

“Good.” You partially lie. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He answers quickly, however you sense a lie buried.

You weakly smile. Exhausted, Frankie barely grins back and a pang pierces through you.

“Hey… Frankie.” You begin weakly. Frankie, midway pulling out your payment, freezes and blinks towards you.

“Yeah, little farmer what’s up?”

You know this might not mean much but you want to at least tell him.

“I just…” the words get stuck in your throat but with a deep inhale you unclog them.

“You just seem tired. I appreciate how hard you work but I just hope you get some rest when you can.” You tell him earnestly. “And… if there’s anything bothering you, I just wanted you to know you can always talk to me.”

You finish and hope you didn’t overstep.

Frankie’s gemstone eyes flicker stunned and then he sighs.

For the first time, Frankie slips his very notable baseball cap off and runs a hand over his hair.

His soft hat hair, the way you get this new glimpse of Frankie, lights something within your chest. You’ve never seen him without his cap. When he slips the baseball hat back on, his eyes seem cloudy and downcast.

“Thanks little farmer, appreciate it.” He mutters with another sigh. “It’s just stupid shit with my ex wife that’s taking longer than I expected to work out.”

Frankie’s words catapult you straight out of the atmosphere and your blood runs cold.

Ex wife.

Frankie was married before.

“I shouldn’t let it bother me and I don’t wanna be that type of ex husband, but holy shit she can be so damn difficult.” He shakes his head.

This feels like you’re meeting him again for the first time. But you’re grateful he’s sharing this with you.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this and with her being difficult.” You reply with a soft comfort.

“You’re a good guy Frankie. I hope she doesn’t make you forget that.” You add, meaning those words.

You and him might have just recently become closer, but this entire year you’ve been living in Pelican Town Frankie’s been so sincerely kind. Always being patient with you and how awful you sometimes are to your poor tools. Even just seeing his soft shy smile when you run into him has brightened your day many times.

Frankie’s eyes finally flicker to you. They search your face like he’s waiting for you to react.

His mouth opens slightly.

Then he says your name, breathes it out, and it kickstarts a wild flutter in your heart.

But the door suddenly yanks open wildly behind you, cutting him off rapidly.

Robin, the town’s ever handy carpenter, arrives with a warm welcome drawing all the attention to her. The moment flutters away with her entrance. With a fast goodbye to Frankie and a swift warm greeting to Robin, you scramble fast to leave.

“Wait I didn’t-”

You don’t even wait to hear what Frankie has to say before you’re out of the door and back into the cold winter air. With so many thoughts buzzing in your head like angry hornets you simply head to the mines.

You stay there until the dead of night and drag your body back to farm. Even with how tired you are, your mind still thinks of a certain blacksmith.

The next morning there are two letters waiting for you. One is from Lewis reminding you of the upcoming Winter Star festival. The other is from Frankie.

Your heart jumps fast.

Little farmer,

Thanks for thinking of me and wanting to look out for me. Appreciate it a lot. Also you forgot your payment yesterday, silly! Don’t work yourself too hard either. So you get some rest too, alright?

Hope you swing by again and maybe soon we’ll have time for that hot chocolate :)

He not only sent you the payment for the errand but also a sweet pack of maple bars.

An overwhelming sweetness consumes you and you wish it never leaves.

The next day you plan to make Frankie a hot chocolate to bring him in the morning. But you realize you used the last remaining bits a few nights ago when you snuggled in for a cozy reading night. You mentally kick yourself but decide a green tea will hopefully be the best second option.

The minute Frankie’s shop opens you’re there the first one inside.

“You’re here early.” Frankie greets you with crinkled smiling eyes.

“Thought I’d stop by before I head to the mines.” You reply back brightly.

“It’s not hot cocoa, but I hope it’s a nice treat.” You offer lightly while you hand him the cozy to go drink.

“You got this for me? Thanks so much.” Your heart flutters hearing how warm his voice gets.

He takes a sip and his eye brows shoot up under the cover of his hat. Oh no. Does he not like it?

“Is this green tea?” His voice jumps so excited. “I love green tea!”

His brilliant smile creates a sun bursting light in your chest and you’re a bit grateful now you ran out of hot chocolate.

- ❆ -

Gus is a full five minutes into his handmade candy cane discussion and while you adore the endearing saloon owner, you can only take so much.

The feast of the evening star still warms and eases you though. The twinkling decorations, the absolute grand festive tree, the delicious food - it’s all a cozy blanket to soak into.

So you allow dear Gus to ramble about his candy canes while you sip on your warm drink.

“So who’s your secret gift recipient?”

Frankie’s soft but playful voice catches you off guard and you almost sputter out your drink.

You caught sight of him earlier but he was busy laughing with Pierre and Caroline. Then you got caught up in greeting everyone. Now you’re thankful to finally talk to him.

“You know that’s a secret.” You playfully glare at him.

The blacksmith simply shrugs but the amusement tugging his lips makes you smile.

A beautiful flush crawls over Frankie’s face. A kaleidoscopic joy sparkles in his deep eyes. He seems better and joy fills you.

“So does that mean you’re not gonna tell me what your winter star wish is?” He asks light.

You roll your eyes, but giddiness consumes you fast.

“You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.” You surprisingly coyly reply.

Frankie snorts and his face crinkles up adorable.

“If I told ya, you probably wouldn’t even believe me.” He says casually then takes a sip of his drink.

“Wait,” you reply back. “Now you gotta tell me.”

Frankie doesn’t reply for a moment.

In the stillness of this moment, you notice how close he is. He’s leaning right beside you that you can smell the faint smoke of his work, and a crisp cologne you’ve never noticed before.

Then, you see it. His stunning amber gemstone eyes flicker to your lips.

It’s fast, happens in a breath of a moment. Your throat dries. You blame the warm food and festive atmosphere, but you ache to lean closer.

Before you can react or even wait for Frankie’s next move, Mayor Lewis claps loudly, breaking the spell.

“Time to exchange gifts everybody!” He declares.

Your body feels electric and immediately you try settling yourself down. You needed to give your gift.

Jodi, the sweet mother she is, deserves a nice sweet treat and you surprise her with a fully cooked chocolate cake. Her warm excited reaction is a treat itself.

Evelyn, ever the kind grandmother, gives you a pack of her delicious and warm cookies. You hug her tight thanking her.

The festival concludes with a gentle end and fizzles out softly. The clean up is eased, relaxed, and by the time it’s finished an unfortunately long yawn takes over you.

“Can I walk ya home, little farmer? You seem tired.”

Frankie again, so stealthy, suddenly appears out of thin air.

You squeak out a quick yes and his face melts soft.

“So a full year down huh? Hope we haven’t scared you off too badly.” Frankie offers hopeful.

It has been a year, feels like so much yet so little has been composed into your new life here in Pelican Town. You think of the dilapidated community center you’ve been keeping an eye on and working on.

You’ve taken this new journey slowly, at your own pace. You can almost hear your grandpa’s voice cheering you on saying just take it one step at a time.

“No way.” You laugh answering Frankie’s question. If anything, you’ve grown more attached to the valley than you ever imagined. You even tell Frankie this and his face lights up so beautifully it rivals the festival tree standing in the town plaza.

“Everything work out with your ex?” You ask gently and then sputter out an apology if you’ve overstepped.

Frankie chuckles. “Nah, I’m glad we can talk about it.”

That comforts you.

“And yeah, thankfully everything worked out.” Frankie grins sleepily. “I’m still really sorry you had to hear that.”

“No worries! And like what you just said, I’m glad I can be here for you. That’s what friends are for, remember?” You reassure him.

“Yeah, friends.” The way his voice hangs on the word friends gets tangled in your chest.

A quietness clouds the walk.

“So Gus tell you about homemade candy canes?” Until Frankie’s light voice breaks the silence and you laugh.

It might have been a slow start becoming friends with Frankie. But you’re glad, grateful, to finally arrive here.

Arriving at your farm you thank Frankie again.

“If it wasn’t so late I really would invite you in for that hot chocolate I’ve been promising you.” You sigh. You even begged Gus for a new pack just to be stocked up.

“Don’t worry about it. There will be another night, promise.” His words are gilded in a promise you want to treasure.

He suddenly says your name and now under the light of your porch, Frankie seems bashful as his eyes flicker around.

“I, uh, kind of have something for you.”

That takes you by surprise.

“Couldn’t give it to you earlier cause I know Mayor Lewis would’ve had my ass.” Frankie dryly snorts and then pulls out something concealed in the classic brown paper wrapping he uses at his shop.

“Happy feast of the winter star, little farmer.” He delicately hands it to you and your eyes feel as if they’re going to pop out any moment.

You cry in protest that he didn’t need to get you anything and guilt rushes in. You didn’t get him anything.

“Eh,” he shrugs. “No pasa nada.”

You’ve only caught small bits of him speaking Spanish before and now hearing him speak so casual sounds beautiful.

Unwrapping the surprise gift, you discover he got you an iridium bar and you inhale sharply.

You haven’t even been able to forge one yet. The most precious, coveted, type of metal bar and he just casually gave one to you right now.

“Francisco Morales, this is too much!” You shriek.

He laughs buoyantly and loud at your reaction.

“Trust me, it’s not. Besides, seen how hard you work. How much you do for me and the town. You deserve it.”

You don’t want to get emotional, but the tears clogging your throat say otherwise. Those tears and the bubbling emotions, gratitude and all other shades of thankfulness, overtake you. Before you can stop yourself you rush to Frankie and collide into him.

You hug him best as you can but realize what you’ve just done. You don’t even know if he’s okay with close contact like this.

Immediately Frankie wraps you in his arms and squeezes you back. He’s all encompassing, beautifully so.

Your mind, your thoughts, everything melt as you embrace him back.

“Thank you.” You earnestly tell him.

“Anytime.” Frankie whispers back.

You would never tell Frankie this… but your winter star wish came true because you couldn’t have wished for a better way to bid such a sweet farewell to this season here in the valley.

#oh I needed this today #here’s to more Stardew sweetness and magic!! if you read thank you so much blacksmith Frankie and I are giving you a stardrop #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #blacksmith!frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #seasons of you fic series #Frankie 🤎#pedrostories

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rkvriki · 1 year

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— being interrupted by the other members ! (maknae line)

hey everyone!! here is the maknae line of this post, i hope you enjoy it !!

make sure to leave feedback . my asks are open and so is my inbox so let's talk!!

WARNINGS ! this is not proofread, might have grammar errors; contains light cursing. a/n: i hate this one !! i was out of inspiration to write this, i'm so sorry :( still i hope you can enjoy it !

word count: 1.5k !

SUNOO !

sunoo didn't mind any comments made by the others about him, but if you were involved it's another story.

sunoo and you would be in his bed at the dorms, spending some time together since he just came from tour.

you were doing the new face masks he bought for your weekly skincare sessions.

“i saw these cute masks with bears on them and they reminded me of you!!” sunoo told you as he carefully put one on your face, spreading it evenly while gently massaging it.

after he was done you kissed his lips gently, making him smile tightly at you showing his crescent moon shaped eyes.

as you were doing your skincare routine, you two went on about what happened while he was on tour, which was mostly you rambling about something bothering you at college.

“...and I couldn't believe she really said that straight to my face!”

“yes, how cruel is she!!” sunoo said agreeing with you even though he didn’t even know who you were talking about.

as you went on with your rambling, sunoo was just staring at you and i swear if it were a cartoon he would have hearts in his eyes.

“...so as i was about to give in my test he literally- what? is there something on my face?” you said, grabbing your phone to look at your reflection. sunoo let out a giggle and hugged you in his arms leaving you confused.

“no, you’re just so pretty and i’m literally in love with you!” he said, keeping you in his safe embrace. (pls i would kill to have sunoo like this)

you pulled away from his arms looking at him, admiring his features, and pulled him into a sweet kiss.

sunoo giggled as you two were kissing, making you smile into the kiss.

“two new episodes from the series we were watching came out this week, we should watch them.” sunoo said as he started laying down in his bed and grabbing his ipad to open the series.

you agreed and laid next to him, cuddling his side.

“i bet they are arguing now and then be alright in the next episode, it’s always like that!” you said watching as the two characters were having an intensive argument.

“i don't know, maybe they will only make up in the last episode just to leave us on a cliffhanger.”

it’s been almost an hour since you were watching the series and you started feeling your eyes getting heavy as the time went by.

you finally gave in to sleep and let your eyes flutter shut and you listened to sunoo’s calm and soothing heartbeat.

“see! i knew they weren’t-” sunoo stopped talking when he realized you were fast asleep in his arms. laughing softly at you, he admired your sleeping state. how your eyelashes rested against your cheeks and how your lips were slightly parted, letting out soft noises, that he found so cute.

turning off his ipad, he set it on the bedside table and let his own eyes shut and drift off to sleep.

“oh my god jake, this is perfect black mail.” niki said as he took pictures of you and sunoo sleeping with your maks hanging half off your face.

jake was trying to hold in his laugh while he watched niki.

“pls send that to the group chat, this is so good!”

sunoo eyes shot open as he started listening to voices in the room. niki quickly put his phone away, trying not to laugh, while jay ran out of the room while laughing.

“what are you brats doing? get out before she wakes up!” sunoo told niki and he went straight out of the room.

sunoo looked back to check on you and you were still in your deep sleep, making him wonder how you could be such a heavy sleeper.

sunoo smiled and went back to sleep with you after taking both of your masks off.

sunoo is so boyfie omg

jungwon minds it, you on the other hand don’t.

he had invited you to spend the evening with him at the dorms so you guys could have a sleepover.

everytime you came over jungwon would have a whole routine planned, so nothing could ruin your time together. nothing excluding his members. they could ruin it.

“wonie!! i missed you so much, baby!!!” you hugged jungwon tightly as you greeted him. jungwon smiled as he gave your lips a peck, making your heart flutter.

you both got in and sat on the couch as you chatted for a while.

"let's play mario kart!!” jungwon suggested starting your fun day together at home.

he got the game ready while you went in the kitchen to get snacks and drinks to feed you throughout the game.

you both sat on the couch, grabbing the controllers, as you got ready to play the game.

“let’s use mario and princess peach to match!” you told him happily, already choosing princess peach as your character. jungwon playfully rolled his eyes but still chose mario, just to make you happy.

“jungwon stop leaving banana peels please, how am i supposed to win!!!” you complained as your character slided through another banana peel, making you fall some places behind.

jungwon just laughed at you, smirking proudly as the screen showed he was in the first place.

seeing his proud expression, you kicked his leg lightly, making him wince dramatically, to which you rolled your eyes.

as you were playing, you heard the front door opening, the boys arriving from wherever they were.

they reached the living room and their eyes landed on you and jungwon playing.

“y/n!!! HIII!!” sunoo said greeting you.

“hi sunoo!! haven’t seen you in so long!!” you greeted him back loosing focus on the game.

“y/n, pay attention you are gonna lose!!” jungwon told you making you focus back on the game.

“oh y/n! hi, long time no see!!” heeseung said, greeting you as he sat next to you on the couch.

“oh! hey seungie! how’ve you been?”

you and heeseung started engaging in a conversation making you forget about the game.

jungwon looked at you but you didn’t even notice him as you were so into the conversation.

he started huffing and rolling his eyes, as he closed the game and by the looks of it you didn’t even notice.

“...and we did many things and-” heeseung suddenly stopped talking about the tour and started looking behind him. you looked in that direction seeing jungwon glaring at the older boy with an annoyed expression.

you giggled at that, seeing he was slightly jealous you weren’t giving him your attention.

jungwon looked at you and rolled his eyes, grabbing his phone and ignoring you making you laugh even more.

on day of peace for leader won please 🙏

with riki it wouldn’t exactly be interrupting.

he invited you to go out and for a sleepover.

he was touch deprived from tour and wanted nothing more than your presence so you served his wishes.

you both were in his room in the dark, ready to sleep, in the comfort of his blankets and warm bed.

you had your eyes closed, ready to drift to dreamland, when you head niki shaking slightly.

“niki are you ok-” you were interrupted as your boyfriend started laughing making you confused.

“what can be so funny at 2 30 in the morning in the full darkness?” you asked him with an annoyed tone, but honestly you weren’t that sleepy.

“nothing, it’s just- i can imagine how your face looks in the dark.” he told you, still laughing at you.

you sighed at his behavior and got up to turn on the lights as he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“niki if you don’t want to sleep you could’ve just said so.” you told him rolling your eyes and sitting back in bed.

“let’s do something else, please. i’m bored and i don’t feel like sleeping.”

“ok, like what?”

—---

that’s how you found yourselves in his room with his computer positioned in a high place as you were in the fifth youtube video of a just dance choreography.

you were both laughing loudly, not noticing the clock already struck 3 am and the others were all sleeping.

“niki you’re going the wrong way dumbass!!”

“shut up im not!!”

you two kept going at it until the door open revealing and messy haired jungwon with a not-so-happy expression, looking rather annoyed.

you both stopped pretty much in a 🧍 position, as you were getting ready to get scolded.

“do you guys know what time it is?? you kids go to sleep now!” jungwon told you as you and niki got under the covers, waiting for him to close the door.

as you heard the door click, you both started laughing quietly at jungwon’s scolding.

niki is a brat and jungwon doesn’t stand for that!

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befuddledcinnamonroll · 6 months

Text

Goddamn, we are getting such good shows to wrap up the year. And they're all so different!

But god do I adore Idol Factory for going all in on the action/supernatural BL, because there's a reason that there are a million books in this genre, and it's ridiculous no one has capitalized on it yet.

The chemistry between Billy & Babe, fucking hell.

I just love that mix of both sweetness and being brats to each other as they figure out their feelings.

I also really appreciate the boys being set up as actually intelligent and asking good questions, because so often series will tell but not show when people are supposed to be smart. (Although this is of course fantasy in all of them having such noble goals in wanting to be cops).

Also, nice slide in of some exposition! What happened to Tharn's dad? Is it related to his reincarnation?

Ok, Thongthai!! I see that snatched little waist.

I just love the cinematography in this show, especially the night & water scenes. They got someone who knows their shit, and it shows.

So Phaya was lured back into the water, and at first I thought it was something bad using the image of mermaid Freen to trick him, but then he wasn't actually harmed? Was it to get Tharn to come to him?

See, I keep going back and forth on if the Lieutenant Tam thing is real or just a setup to get them to investigate. If it was real, and truly dangerous, wouldn't the supervisors be freaking out a lot more?

But damn, I love all of these losers.

Ooh, ok, I was wondering if all of them were connected, not just Phaya & Tharn! And the show is saying yes!

If just them flirting makes me this insane, I may not survive a full on relationship.

Oh yeah, we are in full on "no one touches this man on my watch" mode.

These idiots are the worst wingmen alive. Stop torturing Tharn! He isn't going to say shit, and Yai, you know that!!!

Damn, the way they physically react to each other. Phaya literally couldn't stop himself from kissing his forehead.

They are playing the intensity between them so damn well.

Oh, shit! Chalothon has arrived! And already knows Tharn! Drama!! (Also, hi Heng baby, missed you!)

This is definitely the show that is going to torture me the most having to wait week to week. Oof.

#the sign bl #the sign the series #how am I supposed to wait for another week now?

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

Text

Just One Look

Series Masterlist

Warnings: dark elements but nothing too graphic in this one.

Please leave me some feedback either in a reblog or an ask! Likes are always appreciated as well. You know I love yall and hell yeah, you love Professor Steve.

You sit against the wall, perched in a nest of textbooks, notes, and your laptop. Jensen's small bed has become HQ for your operation; cramming for final exams until your head splits.

You flutter back and forth, jotting down notes, scrolling through articles on the screen, furrowing your brow until your head hurts. You're encased in your fastidious fit as the door opens, barely breaking through the shell of your focus. It isn't until Jensen says your name that you manage to tear yourself away.

"Hey," you smile at him as the smell of caramel fills the room, two tall cups in a cardboard tray in his hand, "what's all this?"

"I told you. Recharge time," he grins, "and a few extra goodies."

He wiggles free one cup and hands it over, then takes one of the paper bags and sets in beside your laptop.

"Ugh, I'm gonna be so fat," you bemoan, not really bothered by the extra sugar.

"Me too," he sits on the edge of the bed, "so, how's it going? Are you an expert yet?"

"Shut up," you stick your tongue out, "you and your photographic memory."

"Hey, the lord blessed me in many ways," he winks before he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Oh my god, you're a dweeb."

"Well, I was talking about you," he smirks, "but also yes, there is a lot of Jensen to go around."

"Right," you roll your eyes and giggle, "stop trying to distract me."

"I'm not distracting you, I'm teasing you. The difference is that while you're sitting there trying to focus on English Lit or whatever dead guy you're reading about, you're fighting not to think about what's in my jeans--"

You grab your copy of Wuthering Heights and throw it at him. He deflects it as he stands, cackling as you feel your cheeks burning. He barely keeps from dribbling coffee down himself as he strikes a pose.

"So shirt on or off."

"Really! I don't have time for this, Jen."

"Ah, come on, we both know you're gonna ace this shit," he flexes his chest, giving it a look as he watches his tee strain, "and I mean... I'm into the whole bookworm thing you got going on right now."

"Stop!" You shout.

"Alright, alright," he relents, showing a palm as he takes another gulp, "I'll wait... I've waited this long."

"I'm sorry, Jake," you sit back and peel away the plastic tab on the lid, "I'm not meaning to... make you wait. It's just I've been so busy and tired and stressed and--"

"I'm not complaining. Waiting makes the heart grow fonder. That's Dickens, right?"

"I think it's a proverb but I don't know," you shrug, "still, it's not that I don't want to... do stuff it's... I'm... nervous."

He looks down and arches a brow, "heh, me too. I know I talk a big game but, yeah."

"Let's just let it happen whenever it does... oh, did I mention, I'm staying on campus for the holiday. Trip home is too expensive."

"Really? That's great."

"Great?" You wonder.

"Yeah, I didn't feel much like seeing my dad, anyway. He just likes to ask me why I didn't get a football scholarship. And the divorce is a bit intense."

"You don't have to stay for me--"

"Nah, really, you're giving me a solid excuse," he pulls up the rolling chair from his desk and sits, "and I mean, I can't think of a better way to enjoy my time off."

"Uh, yeah, awesome," you smile, pushing your shoulders up bashfully, "well, if I even make it through exams."

📖

Your nerves swirl in your stomach. It's not just your usual pre-exam jitters, but the prospect of seeing Steve --Professor Rogers, after your last encounter. You keep your chin tucked down as you join the queue waiting outside the exam room, hugging your purse strap as you sway back and forth.

Rogers appears down the hall, greeting students by name, as he struts down to unlock the room and props the door open. You wait until a few others part from the wall to join the building wave of bodies shuffling inside. As you pass the professor, he sniffs, almost a tut, as if to deride you in particular.

You leave your bag along the front and find a seat along one of the curved rows. The professor waits for the clock to run out as he hands out the examinations, row by row, then starts the usual explanation of the rules, time limit, et cetera. You fidget in your seat, passing down the stack of papers for the next person to take one. You just want this to be done with.

As Professor Rogers calls for you to begin, you put your head down and flip the front page. You're ready. Your confidence in the material isn't undercut by the controversy. You won't let it.

Your hand hurts with the tightness of your endless scrawl. Short answer, then the big essay. The hall is silent and thick with the tension of students sighing and yawning over their finals.

You stop to think about your final argument and lift your head without thinking. You scrunch your brow and nose as you try to untangle the words in your head and your eyes meet Rogers'. You're shaken by the intensity of his stare. He doesn't move, he doesn't look away, his attention bores into you and has you cowering over the paper.

Fuck. He's definitely still upset. Well, so are you. He screwed you out of an income. You just hope you hear back from the tea shop about your resume. It's your last hope outside of commuting to the nearest McDonalds to sling burgers.

You shake it off, or try to. You finish the last portion of the essay but don't get up right away. You don't want to be the first to leave. You also don't want to walk up to Rogers alone.

So you wait, pretending to read over your booklet until you send a shadow rise from down the next row. You watch patiently. The first inspires a second and you get up, sidling down to the aisle to follow the trickle of students. You approach Rogers and hold out your booklet. He stares at it a moment before he takes it and flips to the first page, reading the first question.

He finally looks up as you start to back away, "good luck."

His words hang in the air and you flinch. The stone in his eyes crushes you. There's something in them, a promise, a threat. You back up and turn, fighting to stay calm as you reclaim your bag from against the wall.

At least it's over.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #au #professor au #professor!steve #one #marvel #mcu #captain america

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buckychristwrites · 11 months

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When the Rain Gathers | Chapter One | j.t

↳ Pairing: Jamie Tartt x f!reader

↳ Word Count: 3.8k

↳ Summary: Pain hits like a downpour, but when a heartbreak from your past is what greets you at your new job at Nelson Road Stadium, it's more like a catastrophic tsunami.

↳ Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Discussion of parental abuse, fluff and angst.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Main Blog

“This is stunning.”

Your folded hands tightened.

Rebecca Welton looked between your resume to Sharon Fieldstone, who was sitting beside her. They were both beaming as you continued to sit nervously. Although, that was to be expected with you. They could’ve told you that you were sent by God himself and you would still be rifled with anxiety.

“And how exactly did you get a recommendation from Ted Lasso?” She asked in awe while reading the letter from the man himself. You shifted in your seat.

“I did some work with the Wichita State Shockers after I finished my degree,” You explained. “During Ted’s time there, of course. He was the one who sent this job my way, actually. Said I’d fit in nicely.” She read the letter over and over again, a fond look on her face.

“Any person who Ted trusts is someone I trust.” Was she getting choked up? You tried to ignore that in an effort to not embarrass her. Sharon nodded.

“I think you’re the perfect match to work with me,” The psychologist said definitively. “Now that we have the women’s team as well as the men’s, I can’t do it all on my own.” Rebecca nodded in agreement.

“You’ll take over the care for the men’s team while Sharon helps the women’s team adjust.”

You allowed yourself to take a glance around Rebecca’s office, appreciating the simplicity. The weight on your chest seemed to lift, now that you knew the job was basically yours. All morning you had been stressing over this interview. Even going as far as to sit in the car park for a whole 45 minutes beforehand so you wouldn’t be late.

“When do you think you could start?” It was clear that Rebecca was trying oh so hard to not sound eager, while also failing miserably at it. Funnily enough, you were doing the same. Your first answer would be that very minute, but you reeled yourself back.

“As soon as possible.”

You didn’t think it was feasible for them to look more elated, but you were proven wrong at that moment, as their faces seemed to radiate joy. Rebecca clapped her hands together before rising from her seat.

“Wonderful,” She said. “I hope tomorrow will work for you, then?”

It stunned you briefly, how quick the start date was coming. You had assumed it wouldn’t be for another week. But you were more relieved than distressed by the speed this was all going. Since the move just a week prior, you were desperate for income.

“Perfect,” You said as you also rose from your seat. Sharon swiftly followed, the three of you exchanging such pleased looks. It was overwhelming how well this interview went. It wasn’t really an interview, though. The impression you had been given when the conversation started was that you’d had the job the moment you walked in the door. Though, funnily enough, they had been trying very hard to not let you in on that.

“Shall I give you a tour of the club?” Rebecca suggested. You nodded excitedly.

“That would be wonderful.”

Sharon began to inch towards the door.

“I have some appointments to get to, I’m afraid,” She said as she glanced at her watch. “But I’ll be ready for you in the morning to help you with getting acclimated.” She gave you a warm smile, which you couldn’t help but return. “I’m so glad to have you.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Dr. Fieldstone,” You said, raising a hand in goodbye. “I’ll see you in the morning!” She gave one last look of what appeared to be relief before turning and leaving Rebecca’s office. You turned towards your new boss, the anxiety creeping in again.

You glanced out the window at the team, who were currently training on the pitch. The drills they were running looked intense, more intense than anything you had ever seen before. Which, considering you had seen and had even been involved in a great many football trainings, you were more qualified than most to say that.

Subtle rain droplets hit the window, catching your attention for too long before you refocused on the players.

A flash of one player as he spun around his teammates with the ball gave you deja vu, and you had to turn away before it began to fester in your head.

“Shall we?” Rebecca asked, gesturing towards the door. You nodded, following her out into the hallway and down the stairs.

The club was a lot larger than the outside suggested. Rebecca showed you the press room, conference room, all of the bathrooms, and where Sharon’s office was located, though the door was shut at the time. Pictures

“How was the flight… home?” She asked in a more questioning tone than anticipated. “This is home for you, yes? Your accent is certainly… unique.” You pressed your lips together. This was quite a popular question from both the English and the Americans alike.

“Yes and no,” You explained. “I’m actually from Manchester. But I moved to the United States for school about…” You did the maths in your head. “About six years ago, I guess.” Saying it out loud felt so strange. Some days, it felt like just yesterday that you had gotten on the plane that swept you away from England. Others, it felt like a lifetime ago. Which, with the changes that had occurred in your life, it might as well have been.

“The Americans got to you then,” She teased, tapping her hand against your arm as if you had known her forever.

“That’s exactly what my mum says when she hears me speak anymore,” You admitted sheepishly. Remembering her original question, you turned to face her. “My flight was a nightmare, by the way.” She looked at you in shock. “Yeah, my daughter had an ear infection the day of, naturally. So when we took off and the pressure built in her ears, she just cried and cried for a solid hour until she fell asleep.”

“You have a daughter,” Rebecca said, poking her bottom lip out just slightly. Subconsciously, you pulled out your phone.

“Yes. Ivy,” You told her before lifting your phone screen to show off your brunette baby. “She just turned two at the end of May.”

Rebecca took your phone to gaze at the toddler. At first, you thought it was because she was in silent agreement that the child was the cutest thing to ever cross the Earth. But then you saw the crinkle form between her eyebrows as she brought the phone closer to her face.

“She-” Her head tilted to the side, her lips pressed tightly together. “She looks so much like-”

“Rebecca, hi!”

The both of you turned to find a small blonde woman bouncing towards you. She was wearing a neon purple top, with black skinny jeans and heels higher than your ankles could handle. As Rebecca’s face changed from confusion to delight, you slipped your phone from her hand and back into your pocket.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Keely?” She asked, turning her hands towards you. “I’m sure you know, this is the new sports psychologist that we’ve hired to help Sharon.” Reaching a hand out, you introduced yourself to Keeley. In lieu of a handshake, she pulled you in for a hug.

“Keeley Jones, at your service!” Her hug made you feel warm. It had been a while since you’d had one so loving, and from a stranger at that. It was surprisingly nice. When she released you, she went to give the same to Rebecca. “I came to see Roy. The boys’re coming in from training now, if you’d like to go down and introduce her to the team?” As Rebecca pulled away, she looked at you with excitement in her face.

“Would you like to meet the team?”

You could practically feel the rise in your blood pressure, the anxiety pouring out of your ears. But you knew if you didn’t meet them today, you’d have to tomorrow, and your first day would go much easier if the most stressful part happened sooner rather than later.

“Of course!”

With wide smiles and rosie cheeks, Rebecca and Keeley whirled around and led you down the hallway, arms linked together. Watching them was incredibly lovely, and made you yearn for a friendship like that.

“Before you interrupted, Keeley,” Rebecca said playfully, earning a glare from her long haired friend. “She was just showing me a picture of her lovely daughter.” Keeley’s head whipped in your direction.

“You have a daughter? How old is she?” She asked eagerly. You grabbed at your phone again.

“She’s two,” You said proudly as you showed her the same picture you showed Rebecca. Her face went from joyful to dazed, her grabbing at your phone and looking down at it.

“Do you have any other pictures?” She asked with a less hearty smile this time. The ease in your chest began to falter. Trying hard not to feel offended, you opened your albums and pulled up another photo. In this one, it was a better look of Ivy’s face, and not her just making goofy looks for the camera, like your lock screen photo showed. Grabbing the phone back, Keeley and Rebecca examined it as they continued to walk. They were so distracted that you were surprised they didn’t hit a wall when they rounded a corner.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Rebecca asked Keeley in a low voice.

“That she looks exactly like-”

You had seen the impending collision that was about to occur, like it was written in the stars, but you were too late in your efforts to warn them, for both Rebecca and Keeley ran into the door of the changing room that had just been opened by one of the coaches.

“Oh fuck,” A small man with gray hair and a kind looking face muttered as the women hit the floor. Your phone was quick to skid across the floor. The man scrambled to help Rebecca to her feet, as you did the same for Keeley.

“I’m so sorry, so so sorry, Keeley, R-Rebecca,” The man stammered, shaking his head. “I didn’t see you there.” Rebecca brushed herself off, straightening her skirt.

“Not a problem, Nate,” She said, although her face was still rather filled with embarrassment.

“Quite alright, Coach,” Keeley said, her bubbly tone not faltering for a second. Once you were sure the two of them were fine, you walked over and grabbed your phone. When you turned to face them again, your phone safely replaced in your pocket, you found his anxious eyes on you.

“This is Nate Shelley,” Rebecca said once she composed herself. “He is part of the coaching staff for the men’s league.” As you reached a hand out towards him, she introduced you to him. He looked at your hand in confusion before taking it.

Someone struggles with trusting people, you noted to yourself when your hand dropped from his.

Nate reopened the door to the changing room and kept his head down as Rebecca, Keeley, and yourself respectively made your way inside. When the door shut from behind, you noticed that Nate had not entered the changing room along with you.

“Is everyone decent?” Keeley asked with a hand disjointedly over her eyes. Everyone turned their attention towards her, amused smiles on their faces. From what you could tell, everyone was, in fact, decent. When Keeley dropped her hand down once more, she let out a pout. “C’mon lads, just one time!” They all laughed in a way that suggested this was a running joke, but they all somehow still found it funny each time. Rebecca took a few steps forward to give herself centre stage. Your heart clenched.

“I’d like to introduce you all to the new sports psychologist as Sharon transitions over to the women’s league.” She gestured towards you. “She will be taking over all of your care.”

As she told them your name, you watched the range of emotions that flooded all of their faces.

“Sharon won’t be working with us anymore?”

“This is a betrayal!”

“Why do the women get our Sharon and we have to have someone new? Send her to them for fuck’s sake!”

Any excitement that you had left evaporated as you listened to their complaints and shouts. While you never expected the transition to be easy, you didn’t expect it to be completely rejected, either.

“Aye!” A bearded ginger with a baseball cap shouted over the noise.

“Gentlemen!” Rebecca yelled, her voice a mix of anger and surprise. “This is not how we welcome someone to our family, is it?”

Some of them grumbled a response, while most of them just stared down at their shoes. A couple of them were eyeing you curiously. You folded your hands patiently in front of your abdomen. Rebecca sighed heavily.

“Where the fuck is Kent?” She asked the bearded coach, voice exasperated. “He should be controlling his team.”

“Running drills with Jamie,” He said simply. You felt a wave crash in your chest as he turned to face you. “Coach Beard, by the way.” He stuck his hand out towards you, and it took you a beat too long to compose yourself enough to take it.

“Nice to meet you,” You said, voice unsure. A nervous glance was tossed towards the distraught players again before you turned to him once more. “Did you say… Did you say Jamie?” His eyebrows knitted together, as if you had just asked him if he was able to poop on command.

“As in Jamie-”

The door to the pitch burst open, handle knocking against the wall. In came a tall figure with dark hair and even darker and thicker eyebrows. He paused just beyond the threshold, his eyes scanning the room. You studied him instinctively. The way the room stopped just upon his entrance told you that he was an important figurehead.

“It’s about time,” Rebecca scolded, hands planted on her hips. “Where have you been?”

“Sorry,” The man said, holding his hands up in a gesture of innocence, before directing his thumb behind him. “This one wanted to run a couple more drills.”

The one he was referring to entered at that moment, as if on cue. As if it were rehearsed.

Your heart stopped functioning altogether.

He was a new man entirely, with long hair that parted like curtains off his forehead and locks coloured a light brown, almost dark blonde. His jawline was more chiselled than you remembered it, arms and abdomen more defined as his shirt hugged his muscles dearly. Taking a glance around at the commotion, it took him a moment to meet your eyes. But the moment he did, his skin blanched.

You’d know those eyes anywhere. The greenish-blues you had looked into a thousand times in your life. Soft, gentle, almost innocent in appearance. It felt like they were the only thing about him that hadn’t changed completely.

It’s him. Jamie Tartt.

Your Jamie.

Fuck, you thought to yourself.

Fuck, Jamie thought to himself.

It’s you.

His you.

It felt like he was repeatedly getting hit by a train. Over and over and over again. One right after the other.

His mind suddenly forgot how to think. For the first time in his entire life, it was completely silent. All he could focus on was your face. How different you looked and yet somehow you were exactly the same. The hair he had run his fingers through time and time again was longer than he could recall. Your face had somehow matured in the three years it had been since he had seen you.

Fuck, has it already been three years? He found himself thinking. Because even after all this time, it felt like a victory that he had gone ten days without thinking of you. Now, it seemed, those streaks would be long over.

Rebecca took you around the room to give every player an individual introduction. Though you tried to pay attention, Jamie continued to catch you looking over at him, as he couldn’t stop looking at you. He found your expression unreadable. Since when could he not read your mind by just looking at your face?

Oh yeah, since he didn’t really know you anymore.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Roy said in a low voice. Jamie hadn’t realised that his friend had even leaned in, the sound of his voice causing him to jump.

“The fuck you mean?”

“You look like a fuckin’ deer in headlights.”

He didn’t have a proper response, so he said nothing. The feeling of Roy’s eyes burning holes in the side of his head were nothing compared to the discomfort he felt from just entering the changing room. The air around him began to suffocate him. You were the only presence he could feel. It had always been like that, when it came down to you, but not like this. Never like this.

“This is Roy Kent, the head manager of the club,” Rebecca continued on with the introductions. Roy grunted in your direction, but a daggered glare from the owner forced him to raise a hand for a shake. You were stiff as a board as you took it.

“And last, but certainly not least, we have Jamie Tartt here.”

And then you were in front of him, wide eyes boring into his face. A whiff of your perfume hit his nostrils. The same perfume you had been wearing since he had gifted you that same bottle for your seventeenth birthday. Now it was a lethal gas, asphyxiating him. Hands shaking at his sides, he stuffed them in the front pocket of his jacket. From his periphery, he could see Rebecca just as angry at him for not going to shake your hand or properly greet you, but unlike Roy, he stood his ground.

After a moment, you cleared your throat.

“Actually,” You said with a shaky breath that Jamie did not miss. “We’ve met before.”

His lungs ceased to function as his entire body ran cold.

“We went to school together.”

It was such a simplification of it all. Twenty three years of knowing someone condensed into five simple words. It felt like a million swords flying through his body.

“How nice!” Rebecca said, her voice high. “Isn’t it lovely to be greeted by a familiar face?” She looked between the two of you expectantly.

You stared at him, your expression neutral.

“Yeah,” You said ominously. “Familiar.”

That was when he saw it. The fire behind your eyes. Oh, how many times he had seen that anger, but rarely towards him. When the two of you began to really fight, it was almost entirely over the phone, which meant he didn’t have to see it. Which was exactly how he wanted it. Having to see those eyes with so much hatred in them would’ve made him quickly fold. Just like he wanted to right at this moment.

Rebecca pulled you away, saying something about seeing your new office. Jamie’s heart went cold when the warmth of your stare left him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your receding back, and even when you disappeared behind the door, his gaze was still glued to that direction, as if you would reappear any second.

“Jamie, please tell me you hit that,” Jan Maas said as he also continued to stare at the door you disappeared through.

“Fuck off, Jan Maas,” He grumbled as he turned to walk towards the boot room. The room began to spin around him, his steps becoming clumsier.

The air in the boot room was fresh despite the reeking boots and unlaundered kits. It was untouched by your scent, which was what he needed. Jamie fell into the shelves, his hands supporting him from hitting the floor.

“Will, mate,” He said through shallow breaths. “I need ya to leave. Please. Go out there and make sure no one comes in, yeah?” Though he wasn’t looking at the kit man, he saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes.

“Y-yes, of course.”

The second the door closed was the same second that Jamie lost control of his breathing. They became quick and rapid as his knuckles whitened against the wooden shelves. His head slowly grew light, his fingers tingly.

It had been a while since he’d had one this bad. His mind went from being completely empty to running at a speed he couldn’t possibly comprehend. The room was silent, and yet so incomprehensibly loud. He squeezed his eyes shut. Nausea flooded his stomach and sent chills up his spine.

A voice filled his head.

Breath, my love. You need to breathe.

He inhaled in as best as he could, for as long as he could. As he held his breath, he counted to four in his head. Just as you had taught him.

Fuck.

The thought of you made him once again lose his composure, and then the panic began once again.

“FUCK.”

He began to throw boots off the shelves in frustration.

The guilt was filling his lungs, drowning him. Every single emotion he had felt over the years was coming back in full force, hitting him all at once. He didn’t know how to control it, so instead he let it out. The victims being the boots that Will had kept so clean and tidy.

Ground yourself. What can you see? What can you feel?

He forced another deep breath.

“The bench,” He mumbled to himself, looking down at the metal bench he was standing over. “Shelves…b-boots… kits… the wall…” He put a shaky hand on the shelf. “I can feel.. the wood…” Pulling away, he put it to his chest. “Me heart beat… and me shirt.” Then, he sat down, burying his face in his hands. “Me face.”

He could breathe again.

Even when you were ripping his mind to shreds, you were also somehow putting him back together again.

The door slowly creaked open, but Jamie didn’t move a centimetre. Quiet footsteps made their way over to him.

“What happened?” Sam’s voice asked. Though he pulled his hands away from his face, he didn’t look up at his friend, instead opting to stare at his socked feet. There was another pair next to them, the hairy legs letting him know that Roy was also in the room.

“It’s a long story,” Jamie said, wiping his eyes. He didn’t realise that he had been crying until that moment. “But it starts and ends with one thing.” Bringing a hand away from his face, he stabbed his index finger against his chest. “Me being a proper fuck up.”