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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 4 months

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hii hope your having a great day, hopefully this is comfortable for you if not that’s alright. so ethan and reader are best friends then reader gets invited to a wedding and shes allowed to bring a plus one so obviously shes gonna bring ethan and throughout the wedding ethan and reader keep making eye contact and smiling etc etc (obviously they are friends with benefits ifykyk) then suddenly reader and ethan disappear then it leads to smut yk and pls details 🙏🏻 tyy have an amazing day.

HELLO! :) I kind of kept the idea you had, but added the friends to lovers trope as well. I hope that's okay! I've been trying to right this for the last couple days and that was the only way I was getting the full inspiration to write a long fic haha.

Falling - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You need a date for your cousins wedding, so Ethan agrees to go with you. You're in a complicated friends with benefits situation, and him seeing you in your dress is too much for him to handle as he tries to sneak you away from everyone else.

Contains: 4.1k words, Fluff, FWB relationship, Oral-both m and f recieving, fem!masturbation, p in v sex. If i missed anything, please let me know:)

A/N: I'll update my master list tomorrow. Honestly a little nervous because I've written so much since the last time I updated it😅

Ethan is one of your best friends, but he’s also your friend with benefits, your sneaky link. No one else in the friend group was aware of what happened behind closed doors when the two of you were alone, or seemed to pay attention when Ethan would leave a party, that you’d slip out five minutes later. He asked about the friends with benefits thing after what you assumed would be a one-night stand, but that’s easier said than done when you see the person almost every single day.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to get caught up in you, wanting nothing more than to have you to himself. You weren’t hooking up with anyone else, but he was always worried about you finding someone. The agreement was his idea, but you said it was fine as long as no one caught feelings. Your words played in the back of his mind every time he’d want to show you affection outside of hooking up. It took everything in him to not grab your hand or pull you into a kiss whenever he wanted to.

He still felt like he had the best of both worlds. He loved that you two could be playing video games one minute, and you’d be bent over the side of his bed the next. He thought you were beautiful, but your personality is what really sucked him in. He loved to listen to you talk about the things you’re passionate about and loved the way you treated people.

As you put your clothes back on after a quickie before your afternoon class, you started to think about your cousin’s wedding you had to go to, and how you still needed a date. You knew that if you asked Ethan, he’d say yes. You still felt nervous about the date concept, though, because your family would be there. They’d take the ‘He’s just a friend’ thing and twist it until they’d ask if he was coming home with you for the holidays.

Ethan noticed that you were lost in thought, and started to think he might’ve done something wrong.

“Was I too rough?” he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. It snapped you out of your thoughts as you started to smile.

“No, that was perfect,” you said, sitting beside him.

“What’s on your mind, then? I could tell you were thinking about something.”

You sighed, turning your head towards him, “Okay, you might think this is a stupid idea, but my cousin is getting married in two weeks, and I kind of need a date. Would you maybe want to go with me? It’s okay if you don’t.”

He started to laugh at your rambling as you said everything so quickly that it was hard for him to keep up. “I’ll go with you.”

“But my whole family will be there, and it might get a little awkward,” you said, as his hand rested against your thigh.

“I’ll go with you,” he repeated. You were about to say something else, before he continued, “What, are you nervous they’re going to call me your boyfriend or something when they introduce me to people?”

“Yeah,” you said, as he leaned in to kiss you.

“So what if they do?” he smiled, “We’re about to be late for class if we don’t leave right now.”

Later in the week, you started to talk to Ethan about the wedding, and the dress code requirements. It was a black-tie event, meaning Ethan needed a suit.

“Does this look okay?” he asked, walking out of the dressing room. You glanced up from your phone, your mouth falling open as you gawked at him. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

You started to laugh, your cheeks turning pink as you composed yourself. “Yeah, you look really good.”

“I wasn’t sure, that kind of reaction usually means really good, or really bad,” he said as he headed back in the dressing room to change back into his clothes. You almost didn’t want him to take it off. He was always attractive, but there was something about seeing him in a suit that made you a little hot and bothered.

When he walked back out with the suit bag in his hand, you couldn’t help but think how torturous the wedding was going to be if you had to look at him dressed like that all day, silently cursing your cousin’s dress code as he went up to the counter to pay for it.

Your reaction made him feel a lot more confident about being your wedding date. He was excited to go with you, but he was scared that he would look awkward when he knew you’d look amazing. He wanted to impress your family, too.

The day of the wedding, you took so long to get ready. Ethan had been in the parking lot waiting for you thirty minutes after you said you’d be out.

“We’re definitely going to be late,” he said to himself, as he pulled out his phone to text you again.

Then he glanced up and saw you walking down the stairs of your apartment complex, holding up your long dress a little so it wouldn’t drag the ground. His eyes widened as his heart pounded in his chest. He was realizing how difficult the night was going to be for him to keep his hands off you.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” you said, opening the passenger door. As you sat down, you looked at him in the suit again as you closed the door. You racked your brain for the right way to compliment him, because if you spoke your mind, you’d never make it to the wedding and just take him inside to fuck him. You finally settled on a simple “You look good.”

“You are so beautiful,” he blurted out before he had a chance to think about what he was saying. You curiously looked over at him as you giggled, before he continued, “That might’ve been a little much, but it’s true.”

“Well thanks, Eth,” you smiled, as he passed you his phone to control the music as he drove.

He stayed silent the rest of the way there. He was still a little embarrassed about being so forward with you, even though it was truly how he felt. But that’s what this little agreement has turned into. He can’t ever say exactly what’s on his mind or how he feels, because you told him he couldn’t catch feelings. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the friendship with how he felt.

Once you arrived at the venue, you rushed inside with Ethan. You knew you were cutting it close, showing up five minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to start. As you and Ethan sat down in the chairs beside your parents, you were happy that they wouldn’t have much time to grill him right off the bat.

“So, is this Ethan?” your mom asked, as he reached across you to shake her hand. “You look so handsome. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he smiled, sitting back in his seat. She glanced over at you like she was about to say something.

“What?” you asked, and she motioned with her finger for you to move a little closer.

“He’s cute. How long have you been seeing him?” she asked, as you rolled your eyes.

“We’re just friends, mom,” you whispered, “Please don’t make this awkward.”

“There’s something else going on, I can tell by the way he looks at you,” she said, before the music started.

You scoffed as you sat back in your seat, knowing exactly how the night was going to go. Yeah, he looks at you differently than a normal friend would, because he regularly sees you naked. You started to feel bad for what Ethan was going to be subjected to at the reception.

Once the ceremony was over, you searched the seating chart to find out what table you’d be sitting at. You felt anxious once you found your table, and noticed that Ethan was sitting across from you, your dad beside him.

“Fuck,” you muttered, as your mom walked up beside you and Ethan.

“Watch your mouth,” she said, sitting down in her seat.

You sat down beside her as Ethan sat down across from you. Your dad soon joined the table, officially introducing himself to Ethan. As they talked, you were trying to listen to their conversation to make sure they weren’t talking about anything that might make him uncomfortable, until your mom started to talk to you.

“That ceremony was beautiful, wasn’t it?” she asked, as you nodded.

“Yeah, I was trying so hard not to cry. Their vows were so sweet.”

“They were,” your dad said, joining the conversation, before leaving it to talk to Ethan again. “So, what are your intentions with my daughter?”

“Dad!” you said loudly, “We’re just friends.”

“She’s quite the catch, though,” he said to Ethan as he gestured to you. Ethan started to blush, the conversation making him nervous.

“Seriously? Is this how the whole night is going to be?” you huffed, as Ethan smirked at you.

Your dad started to respond as your eyes stayed on Ethan, your heart starting to thump in your chest. After months of secretly hooking up, you had these signals you used. The smirk meant he wanted to get you alone as soon as possible.

“Are you listening?” your dad asked, trying to get your attention.

“Sorry.” Ethan was smiling at the flustered look on your face as your dad started to speak again.

“I was just saying that you need to put yourself out there. You never date,” he said, as you rolled your eyes.

“I’m focused on school. You know, the education that you’re paying for,” you sighed, exchanging another quick glance with Ethan.

“Just be sure to take time for yourself, too,” your mom said, as the bride and groom were about to share their first dance.

Your parents were distracted as they watched the newlyweds dance, while Ethan’s eyes bored into yours. He’d been trying to fight off the urge to touch you since you first got in the car. It was getting more and more difficult as he watched you get frustrated with your parents. He wanted to fuck that frustration out of you.

Once they were finished, the DJ invited everyone else out to the dance floor. You took the opportunity to snatch Ethan away before your parents could make things more awkward than they already had.

His hands went to your hips as yours went around his neck. The tension was so strong between the two of you as he looked into your eyes.

“I need you,” he said, the grip on your hips getting a little tighter. You softly gasped at the feeling.

“We can’t right now,” you said, glancing around you to make sure no one else was hearing the conversation.

“What if we could find somewhere to be alone? Or we could go to my car,” he said, his hands subtly rubbing your hips.

“My parents are watching. As much as I want to, we can’t.” You looked over, smiling at them.

Before Ethan could say anything else, they asked everyone to clear the floor for the wedding games. Ethan stood behind you in the crowd of people, his hands going to your hips as he pulled your ass against him, his hard cock straining against the material of his pants.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear as everyone else was distracted, “There’s a hallway over there. Want to see where it goes?”

You looked over to your parents who were so focused on the funny interaction happening in the middle of the room between your cousin and her new husband. You knew if you were going to sneak away, this was your chance. You noticed the hallway Ethan was talking about a few feet away from you.

He was still leaning down waiting for your answer. “I’ll go first, I need you to wait a few minutes. I don’t want this to be obvious.”

You looked at him as he nodded, his bottom lip in between his teeth as you pulled away to explore the dimly lit hallway.

You didn’t have to go very far as you eased open the first door you saw, noticing that it must be one of the rooms the wedding party got ready in. There were several empty beer cans scattered around the room, so you assumed it must’ve been the groom’s area. You slipped inside and cracked the door, waiting for Ethan to walk down the hallway. You soon saw the tall, curly-haired boy, and opened the door far enough to pull him in.

His lips immediately connected with yours as he pushed the door shut with the hand that wasn’t on your hip and clicking the lock so no one else could come into the room.

“You have no idea how hard I’ve been,” he said as he pulled away, his eyes hooded and dark in lust. “You look so fucking hot in that dress.”

“And you look hot in this suit,” you said, grabbing his tie and pulling him to you so you could kiss him again.

He backed you over to the loveseat in the room, not breaking the kiss. When his lips trailed over your jaw and down your neck, he started to hike your dress up your legs. His hands roamed your smooth, newly exposed flesh before kneading at your thighs.

“Mmh, I need you, Ethan,” you whimpered, as his teeth grazed your neck. As bad as he wanted to mark you up, he knew there was no way to hide it.

“You want me to fuck your pretty little pussy?” he asked as you nodded, his hand brushing over your panties. He realized the effect he was having on you as his fingers ran over your clothed clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

“I told you that you looked hot in that suit,” you whimpered out, his fingers moving faster as he rubbed them against you.

He pushed your panties to the side, his fingers not wasting any time to dip inside you. He watched your face as his fingers worked inside you, intentionally missing the spot he’s so familiar with. He noticed you were getting a little frustrated with the lack of attention where you needed it, the smirk on his face giving away that he was trying to tease you.

“Please, baby,” you whined, his smirk turning to a smile. He moved his fingers the way you needed him to, as he continued to watch you. During sex, you had a ‘no pet names’ agreement. You only called him Ethan or Eth, and he only called you by your name. His heart was swelling as you kept whimpering “Yes babe, right there.”

He leaned his head down as your dress was bunched at your hips, his tongue brushing against your clit. Your hips started to move against his hand as his licks got faster, chasing the release you needed. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, that was all it took as your pussy spasmed around his fingers, your moans flooding out of your mouth. Your chest was heaving as he kept fucking his fingers into you.

“Oh my god,” you finally let out as you came down from your high, and Ethan slid his fingers out. “What was with that teasing?”

“What was with you calling me baby?” he asked, your cheeks turning red as you stammered. “I didn’t mind it, though.”

“Oh, I uh, I guess I just couldn’t help it. It felt like the right thing to say,” you laughed a little, as Ethan eyed you curiously. “Let’s talk about this later. We don’t have much time.”

You leaned forward to the edge of the couch and unbuckled his belt as he stood in front of you. His cock was throbbing as your hand brushed over it, your lustful eyes connecting with his.

When you unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his thighs along with his boxers, he groaned at the free feeling. Your mouth went to his tip, placing gentle licks to get all the precum that was starting to drip out. You took him in your mouth, gagging a little to get to the good spit, your saliva starting to drip down his cock. His hand was about to go to your head when you pulled away and started to stroke him.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” you asked, your hand moving at a steady pace as he watched you. You couldn’t get his comment from earlier in the day out of your mind.

“Yeah,” he said, his answer making your hand move faster. “Oh fuck.”

“Do you think we could ever be more than friends who fuck?” you questioned, taking him in your mouth again before he could answer.

“Oh shit,” he groaned as you looked at him through your lashes, “I want that more than anything.”

You took him as far back in your mouth as you could, the gagging feeling around the tip of his cock making his orgasm build quickly. His hand went to your hair, his hips thrusting a little into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he groaned out, the new nickname making you throb between your legs as his cum started to shoot down your throat. You sucked for a few more seconds, getting ever drop of his release out of him as he started to pull your head away.

You wiped your drool from your mouth and chin with the back of your hand, intently watching him.

“Give me a few minutes, I promise I’ll fuck you,” he laughed, looking down at his half-hard erection.

You took the free time to stand up and slide your panties down before stepping out of them. He watched you sit back down in the loveseat and spread your legs, his attention going to your dripping pussy. You didn’t want to overstimulate him to get him hard again, so you decided to put on a little show for him.

Two of your fingers started to rub against you, the feeling of the attention on your aching, needy clit making you gasp. You started to circle it as your whimpers got louder.

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he groaned, his cock getting harder as he watched you. When you slid your fingers inside of you and started to move them, he turned his attention from your pussy to your eyes. “You wish those fingers were mine?”

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Yes baby, your fingers feel so amazing.”

“What about my cock? Do you wish I was pounding into you right now?” he asked, his words bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“Yes,” you mewled, as he grabbed the condom he kept from his wallet.

You started to pull your fingers out, desperate to feel him inside of you, before he stopped you, “You’re so close, baby. I want to see you get yourself off.”

Your fingers started to move faster as your legs started to shake, “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

He rolled the condom on as he watched you hit your peak, your mouth falling open as the beautiful sounds slipped past your lips. Your hand was shaking as you tried to finger yourself through the wave of euphoria, your arousal glistening on your fingers as they slid in and out.

When you started to relax into the sofa and pull your fingers out, Ethan took your hand and sucked your release off your fingers.

“So fucking good,” he groaned out, looking at you. “Do you think you can cum one more time for me?”

“I think so,” you said, the exhaustion evident in your voice after the strong orgasm.

“It’s okay, I’ll do all the work,” he said, pulling you up by your hand and taking you to the side of the couch. He slid your dress back up around your hips as he bent you over the arm, your face pressing into the cushion as he lined up with your entrance. “We’ve been in here a long time, so I’ll need to be quick. If it’s too much, stop me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, a whimper slipping out as he slid inside you.

His pace picked up quickly, your ass jiggling as the sounds of slapping skin and your moans filled the room. He had your hips angled just right so the tip of his cock hit that spongy spot inside you with every thrust.

“You’re taking me so well, baby,” he said, his grip on your hips tightening. “Is this pussy mine?”

The previous conversation was giving him confidence that you felt the same way he did, and he wanted to hear you say that you were his so badly.

“Yes babe, it’s all yours,” you whimpered, his speed increasing. “It’s always been yours.”

He groaned at your words, close to cumming for the second time of the night. He knew you were close, too, as the pitch of your moans got higher. He was so thankful for the loud music hiding what was going on in the room, because the sounds of your moans and wetness were absolutely filthy as he brought you closer to your high.

He was trying to focus on other things as he kept his pace up, not wanting to cum before you. He started to feel your walls squeezing him, drawing him right back into the moment as you started to shake underneath him.

“I’m gonna,” was all you got out, your voice cracking from all the moaning as the feeling completely washed over you. You soon heard Ethan’s groaning get shaky and the grip on your hips get even tighter as his thrusts started to slow.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he said, looking over your tired, fucked-out body as it stayed bent over.

The handle on the door started to jiggle, the sound making you quickly stand up and search for your panties as Ethan slid his pants back up his hips and hook his belt.

“Where the fuck are my panties?” you asked, glancing around the floor. You were so dazed from the multiple orgasms that you couldn’t find them. Ethan tried to help you look, but it was too late as you heard a key slide into the keyhole. You straightened your dress back out and ran your hand through your hair to tame whatever might be going on with it.

When the door opened, you saw one of the groomsmen standing there.

“Sorry, one of his contacts is bothering him. I was trying to help him out,” you lied, as the man smiled and shook his head.

“I’m sure that’s what was going on. Are those yours?” he asked, pointing out your panties that were sticking out from under the couch. Your face was full of embarrassment and panic as you reached down to pick them up. “Hey, I’m not going to say anything. It’s none of my business.”

He grabbed a beer out of the mini fridge before walking back out to join the rest of the wedding guests, locking the door before he closed it behind him.

“Since when do I wear contacts?” he asked, laughing at the awkwardness of the interaction.

You slid your dress back up and put your panties on before looking at him. “It seemed like a good lie in the moment.”

“You think he’ll say anything?”

“He said he wouldn’t,” you sighed, “I really hope he doesn’t.”

He started to smile, “Your parents already think there’s something going on between us. That’s just something else you’d have to deny.”

“What if I feel like there is something going on between us? More than just a friendship, and more than just sex?” you asked, your eyes meeting his as he leaned in to kiss you.

“I feel the same. If you ever want to give me a chance, let me know,” he said, walking towards the door.

“Ethan, come back here,” you said, as he turned around. “You heard me, come here.” You laughed as scoffed at your demand, but ultimately did what you asked as he stood inches in front of you. “Let’s try this and see if it can work.��

He kissed you in response, lifting you off the floor a little as his hands wrapped around your waist.

“So, does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” he asked, a goofy grin on his face as he sat you back down.

“Yes, nerd,” you joked, taking his hand in yours. “Let’s get back out there. We’ve been gone for at least an hour.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #scream

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aloesarchives · 4 months

Text

JJK Drabble #1

Tw/Warnings: Angsts/Bittersweet, mention of one minor death, Fem!Reader & Fem! Pronouns

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader

I was way too inspired by @rosipuree(PLEASE FOLLOW THEM OR READ THEIR WORK) "Haunted" that I wrote a quick blurb with my personal Take/Idea based on their work. I'll make a poll if you guys want me to make this a mini series or not.

Y'ALL PART ONE IS OUT RN: HERE

I always wanted to write about Reader being in a relationship with Toji but it becomes unhealthy because Toji hasn't moved on from Megumi's Biological mom and just angst. So here is my take on how I'd imagine this Toji x Fem!Reader angst with Megumi x Fem!Reader(platonic) bittersweet.

So you're seeing Toji but Toji is still obviously mourning Megumi’s mom.

You are aware Toji really misses her and only truly loves her. His grief turns into rage whenever people mistake you for being Megumi’s real mom, you have a moment with Megumi, or god forbid he finds out Megumi calls you Mama in front of Toji so you correct Megumi every time. Arguments between the two happen because of it, heated ones which leaves you doubtful and alone. You take care of Megumi for the first three-four years of his life but leaves because Toji wasn’t ready to love love you and didn’t want to stay in a one-sided relationship. Megumi was clueless of your permanent absence once you leave but because he thought you would came back. Megumi asks for you continuously, staring at the door every time to see if you would come home. When Toji told Megumi you weren’t coming back at all, Megumi cried so hard that night the only way he got sleep was crying himself to exhaustion.

You treated Megumi like he was your own son and cared for him the best you can. You never made it your intention to replace his wife and Megumi’s bio mom. In fact, the thought of your intentions being seen as such made you anxious and nauseous. The efforts and lengths to have Megumi not refer to you as his mother, even though you were the only motherly figure he will ever have in his life, was both admirable and heartbreaking. You were a mother to Megumi, whether he was your blood son or not, but out of respect for his father/the man you were seeing, you kept it to a minimum. Toji knew it was all his doing. Feeling guilty for not treating you better and deservingly at that. What makes it worse was he didn’t try to save your two’s relationship at all and let you go. Breaking your heart even more because him not taking action means he never loved you enough to make you stay.

Toji still hooks up with Tsumiki’s mom, taking her last name before splitting with her. Tsumiki’s mom was never home so Toji tries to care for Tsumiki on top of Megumi. Megumi never forgot about you and he still misses you dearly. It' to the point he keeps a hidden picture of you and him when you still were around, the only picture he has of you. He hides it from Toji because he knows he’ll take it away from him. Megumi ends up holding such resentment he has a deep grudge against Toji for making you leave and not loving you. It’s pretty bad to the point Tsumiki comforts Megumi at times when he cries about you, wishing you were here to take care of him and Tsumiki. He wishes for you to come back. Tsumiki tries to help Megumi by making him recall his memories of you. To which he speaks so fondly and happily when you take care of him. Megumi is happy that he has Tsumiki as family but his grudge against Toji is so strong that he doesn’t view Toji as his dad, just some guy that’s there with the father title. Becomes estranged to his own father because Toji’s never home often. Even for almost a decade, he never forgot your name or your presence. That’s how much he saw you even if you weren’t there for long and moved on with your life. Highkey Megumi doesn’t blame you for leaving his father. To him, Toji doesn’t have the right to love someone else if he was going to hold onto the memories of his late biological mother for so long that it hurts people in the process. He knew you were unfortunately one of them, one of the good ones that didn’t deserve to be punished for someone else’s lack of emotional maturity and healing.

Megumi and Tsumiki grow up and dorm at their respective schools. Megumi is dorming at Jujutsu High and went on a day trip with his class. As he’s walking through the streets, he spots a familiar figure in the crowd, you. After 10 years, he finally sees you again. He reaches out and sees it’s you. You haven’t aged at all, or at the very least gracefully so. But you were holding your baby daughter in your arms, meaning that you moved on and had another family of your own. You were surprised to see Megumi, telling him how much he’s grown. He wants to hug you, cry into you, call you Mama one more time. But something inside of him tells him not to. Even though he gets the closure he needed from many years of wanting to see you again, he still yearns for you because you’ll always be his mother. The only one he has. Seeing you with your own child makes him happy knowing you are happier with the family you always wanted deserved. And yet he can’t help but imagine it was him you were holding, not your daughter. Holding him in your arms, being his mom, and calling you mama one more time.

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all-timelee · 1 year

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To be loved || O.G.

//clearly I’m going through a bit of a phase here 😅\\

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: use of female pronouns

Masterlist

Being born blind certainly came with it’s challenges. It was something that made life difficult, for sure, but it also had it’s set of advantages.

Ominis had grown more than used to the dark world he navigated through daily, his other senses had seemed to adapt as well, almost overcompensating for the one he lacked. He considered himself to be a very perceptive person, especially due to the fact he lacked eyesight.

He’d been the first person to pick up on your change in attitude. His ears recognized your sudden dreary tone, he could almost feel your deamnor shift into one of resignation and weariness. It was so different from the Y/N he was used to, he wondered how no one else had noticed.

It bothered him, the way things had changed between you two, and while you tried to act like nothing was wrong, he knew better. You weren’t being rude when you turned him away, you were simply exhausted. He could tell you needed time to yourself – he had his own ways of knowing. You didn’t want to bother anyone if you could help it.

But it had been months of this and Ominis’ concern was growing by the day. The way you had become so distant with everyone, even the people who meant the most to you, was worrisome. And it just wasn’t you.

He’d spent countless days trying to approach you to talk, but the last thing he wanted was to make matters worse, so each time he found the courage to do so only to find the conversation falling flat at his hands.

When he finally managed to ask what was bothering you so much, you brushed him off, doing your best to assure him everything was normal. But Ominis saw straight through it all, despite how good at lying you thought you were.

But he dropped it. If you weren’t ready to talk, he wasn’t going to force you. At least, not yet.

—————————

“Have you noticed anything strange about Y/N lately?” Sebastian asked, pulling Ominis’ attention away from the parchment sprawled out in front of him.

“I can’t believe you’ve only just noticed,” the blonde remarked, turning his gaze towards the other boy with a sigh. “Of course I have.”

Sebastian frowned, tilting his head questioningly. “What do you mean? When did you notice?”

“I don’t know… maybe a couple months ago? I’ve tired to ask her about it, but she told me she was fine. Obviously, I don’t believe that for a second, but I can’t force her to tell me.” Ominis scratched absentmindedly at his arm, trying hard to keep his frustration to himself.

“I’m worried, Ominis. Poppy told me Y/N’s been having nightmares. They’ve gotten bad enough that she woke up screaming in the middle of the night.” That caught Ominis’ attention quickly, the blonde sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Y/N wouldn’t tell Poppy what they were about, but she seemed pretty concerned.”

Ominis could feel the frustration growing in his body. He was well aware it wasn’t fair to be upset with the girl, she was clearly dealing with something, but he just wish she’d confide in him. He hated that Y/N continued to suffer in silence when she was surrounded by friends who only wanted to help.

Ominis abruptly stood, leaving his things spread out on the common room table, making large steps towards the exit.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian called after him, looking bewildered.

“I’m going to find Y/N.”

He left without another word, walking briskly towards the Astronomy tower. He remembered Y/N telling him she liked to star gaze when she couldn’t sleep, maybe that was where he’d find her.

The walk there only took a few minutes at his quick pace, but he couldn’t help the unease that had crept into his body. As he approached the tower, he felt his heart rate begin to pick up its pace.

His thoughts were racing when he finally reached the top of the steps, taking them two at a time in search for her.

“Ominis?” Her voice was soft but surprised, and he stopped dead at the sound of it. “What are you doing up here?”

He approached you cautiously, unsure of what to say next, “I was looking for you.” He heard the small sigh that fell from your lips, the rustle of your clothes as you stood.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably best we wait until tomorrow. It’s late, Ominis. You should get some rest,” you spoke softly, causing the boy to frown. He should’ve expected you to dismiss his concern yet again.

“No,” he spoke firmly, completely aware that his body was blocking your way through. This had gone on too long, he would not let this continue.

“No?”

“No, Y/N. I can’t watch you suffer anymore and I won’t let you push the help I’m offering you to the side yet again.” He spoke with such conviction that it was almost a little intimidating, especially coming from someone as kind as Ominis usually was.

You weren’t going to crack that easily though. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to push him back enough you could squeeze through. “I’m serious, Ominis. I’ll be fine, just go back to the common room.”

His hand quickly wrapped around your wrist, keeping you exactly where you were. “If you can’t trust me to help you in your time of need then why should I trust you when you say you’re fine?”

Ominis hadn’t meant to sound so angry, but he could help the hurt slowly growing in the pit of his stomach. He considered Y/N one of his closest friends, (he sometimes thought of her as more than that), she was one of the few people he undoubtedly trusted. Did she not share that sentiment with him?

“Let go of me,” you said quietly. There was a slight tremor to your voice, betraying your emotions. He used his taller frame to walk you back to the railing behind you, his arms moving to trap you against the metal. Your eyes widened, unable to fight him off.

“Please, Y/N….just tell me what’s wrong,” his tone was softer than it had been before, his words full of desperation and genuine care. You could see the worry on his features and you could feel the walls you’d put up slowly cracking.

It was silent for a few moments, you debating on whether or not to confide in him, and Ominis desperately wanting to know what was plaguing you. The tension in the air was heavy and thick, it was getting harder and harder to breathe under the pressure.

Eventually, you sighed, giving in.

“No one asked how I was doing during our fifth-year. They put a wand in my hand and suddenly it was my duty to save Hogwarts. They gave me a role to play, a responsibility to uphold.” You paused, furiously trying to blink back the wetness steadily growing in your eyes. Ominis stayed quiet, allowing you to finish before giving his input.

“No one cared that I was a child dealing with the weight of the world. No one noticed or cared about how I was feeling, no one noticed how much it was hurting me. And every single person that should’ve known didn’t care.”

Ominis slowly moved his body back, a sense of shame washing over him. He hadn’t realized how much it all had taken out of you, and now he was forcing you to relive it for some selfish need of his.

“You all just looked at me and saw my magic, not the teenager who needed help.”

The sadness in your voice nearly broke Ominis’ heart, he nearly collapsed when the first sob reached his ears.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping his arms tightly around you, holding onto you with both arms as if his life depended on it. His face pressed against the crown of your head, letting you cry onto his shoulder while he held you close.

For a moment, you forgot all about the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. All your pain melted away the longer you buried yourself against him, feeling his heartbeat calm down your own heartache. His warmth radiated from him, warming you up in a way nothing else could.

After a few minutes, you calmed down entirely, feeling more relaxed than you had in weeks. You pulled back slightly from the embrace, looking directly at the blonde, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I’m sorry you went through everything by yourself. If I’d known, I would’ve done more to support you,” he whispered, cupping your cheek in his palm. “And I’m sorry I didn’t notice how much pain you’ve been carrying until now.” His thumb caressed the corner of your eye, wiping the remnants of stray tears.

“I didn’t tell you all of that for an apology, I’m not angry, Ominis,” you assured, leaning into his touch. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.”

“It still hurts to think I failed to notice all your struggles.”

“You and Sebastian were dealing with struggles of your own, it’s okay.”

“Struggles that you helped carry. You went out of your way to help so many people, the least we could’ve done was notice how much you were cracking under the pressure.”

Without much thought, you placed your hand on top of his, pulling your lips up into a small smile. “Don’t do that to yourself, Ominis. Stop blaming yourself. You’ve always been a source of light for me, I promise.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, “Really?”

“Really. I’m grateful to have met you.” Your words made Ominis blush deeply, making your heart skip a beat. His own smile grew wider once he recovered and he brushed the tip of his finger across the edge of your mouth lightly. A shiver ran down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I wish to always be that light for you, Y/N. If you’ll have me.” His expression seemed pleading, begging for your answer.

As if on instinct, you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his soft bottom lip. A soft gasp escaped you as soon as he responded by placing his fingers on either side of your face, deepening the kiss.

His lips were warm against yours, his tongue slipping between them and exploring every inch of your mouth. You couldn’t contain the sigh that left your lips, relaxing into him as he continued the kiss.

This was what you wanted, you told yourself. To be loved like this. To be desired. And you found it, in the arms of another human being, you found happiness.

#ominis gaunt #ominis fluff #ominis imagine #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #sebastian and ominis #ominis x you #ominis x y/n #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts au #sebastian sallow #poppy sweeting

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drabbles-mc · 24 days

Text

Hands All Over

Rick Flag x F!Reader

Based on the request from @beardburnsupersoldiers: could you do #11 (“I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”) with Rick Flag??? (Prompt is from This List)

Warnings: 18+, language, smut, jealous Rick

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: my requests are closed but i have been thinking about this in the best way ever since you sent it in and i finally finished it tonight so I'm sending it out into the universe. I'm forever unwell about this man but i hope you enjoy!!!! xo (as always this is unbeta'd af but it's made with love)

You were purposely ignoring the pissed off look on Rick’s face as he stared at you from across the lot. It was early still. The guards hadn’t even rounded up everyone that the two of you needed from Belle Reeve yet. The usual suspects had been brought out first, people they knew weren’t going to put up much of a fight even if they wanted to. It was a short list, and seemed to get shorter all the time whether it was because they kept shaving years off people’s sentences, or because there were almost always a couple team members who didn’t make it home at the end of a mission. Turnover was constant, but it wasn’t as though Belle Reeve was ever going to run out of inmates.

Regardless, it left you and Rick out in the lot with Harley, Peacemaker, and Captain Boomerang. Over the next few minutes you were sure that others would slowly start to trickle out, people with no real clue about what they were getting roped into.

The reason that Rick was giving you the glare was two-fold—he was pissed off about what he was seeing, and he was also pissed off that he couldn’t even try to say anything about it. The first part was your fault, really. But the second part? That was just as much on Rick as it was on you. Maybe if you two had taken the time to ever actually talk about what your deal was, situations like this wouldn’t have him reacting quite so obviously. As it stood, Rick was too stubborn to start the conversation and you enjoyed stirring the pot too much to start it yourself.

So, there you were, leaning back against the transport vehicle you and Rick would be loading everyone into soon enough. Your back was braced against it, one boot on the ground, the other resting back flat against the large tire. Your arms were crossed in front of you as you looked at Boomerang. He was closely mirroring your stance as he stood beside you. You might’ve been vaguely aware of how close he was standing, but judging by the clench in Rick’s jaw it was just about the only thing that he was aware of.

Boomerang had always been a little more comfortable around you than he should’ve been. You figured out pretty quickly after meeting him that trying to fight him on it all the time was not only exhausting, but it wasn’t effective. So along the way the two of you found your middle-ground. You were fine with it, the banter and jokes that definitely wouldn’t be workplace appropriate at any other job, but even without looking at Rick when it happened you knew that he wasn’t a fan.

“C’mon.” Boomer nudged his shoulder against yours. “How many more missions till I can take you out?”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Bold of you to assume that the only reason you can’t take me out is because you’re currently in prison.”

He pretended to be offended and hurt by the comment. “That ain’t very nice, now is it?” He paused as you laughed. “Got some boyfriend on the outside, then?”

Turning your head to look at him, you said, “Why would I have to—”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Or a girlfriend. Don’t matter.”

You chuckled. “I never said any of that.”

He stepped away from the truck. Turning on his heel, he stood so that he was facing you head-on. “By the time I’m outta here, sweetheart, I’ll win you over.”

Even though you knew it wasn’t ever going to happen, you still found yourself smirking at the concept of him trying to woo you. Whatever that meant to him. “Always good to have a goal.”

There were a few beats of silence as he looked around the lot. You could tell that he was starting to get a little antsy, Harley too from the sounds of it as she chattered away at one of the new recruits that had been brought out. This was always the longest part. Briefing everyone was quick, and the rides to the mission locations went by fast because of the commentary flying around amongst everyone. Waiting for everyone to get chipped and brought out got to be a drag after a while.

Boomer was feeling it, pulling out one of his boomerangs and fiddling with it passively in his hand the way a child would fuss with a toy. Arms crossed over your chest, you nodded towards the item in his hand. “Not getting that out just because I said you couldn’t take me out, right?”

His grin split wide enough to catch the glint off his gold tooth. “’Course not.” He fiddled with it for another second longer before pointing at you with it. “Ever used one’a these?” You shook your head and he switched so that it was laying flat in his upturned palm, hand out to you like a peace offering. “Wanna try?”

“Boomer—”

“Give it a shot! ‘s the worst that could happen? We’re the Suicide Squad anyway, right?”

No matter what your rebuttal was, it wasn’t going to be good enough for him. Using your foot that was braced against the tire, you pushed off the side of the truck. “Fine. Only because I know I’ll never hear the end of it from you.”

He was practically cackling as he set it in your hand. “Might make a bad guy outta you yet.”

The two of you weren’t even being all that loud but the words were grating against Rick’s ears halfway across the lot like he was trapped in an echo chamber. The internal conflict of enjoying the sound of your laughter versus knowing that you were laughing at something that Harkness said had him rooted to the spot. If he clenched his jaw any tighter he was liable to chip a tooth.

First it was listening to the two of you shooting comments back and forth, your indirect denial of having someone on the outside. He was frustrated with that even though deep down he knew that even if you’d said you were with someone, it wouldn’t have stopped Boomerang. Deeper down still, he knew that he’d never said anything to you about the relationship between the two of you, but it was easier for him in that moment to forget that small detail.

That was frustrating enough, but then he saw the way that Boomer was so quick to put his hands on yours, how comfortable he was shifting the two of you so that he was standing behind you. It didn’t matter that you wouldn’t take the man seriously in a million years, that no matter the innuendo or the offer he wasn’t ever going to win you over. In that moment, Harkness was closer to you at work than Rick ever would be. And you were smiling and laughing about it.

Not nearly soon enough, the last of this round’s Task Force X were brought out to the yard. You’d managed to get one mildly successful boomerang throw in, and Rick had stopped just short of giving himself an aneurysm.

“Alright,” he barked, more anger in his words than necessary as he walked towards the truck, “everyone load up. We’ll brief on the way.”

You stood back watching as they all filed in. There were murmurs, quick exchanges as everyone tried to get situated in the cramped space. You tried to stifle your chuckles as you heard Harley riling everyone up as they got strapped in.

Unsurprisingly, Boomerang was bringing up the back of the line. Before stepping up into the vehicle, he stopped right beside you. You could feel the humor dripping off his words as he motioned for you to get in before him. “Beauty befor—”

Rick gave him a harsh shove between his shoulder blades, cutting him off in the process. “Get in the fuckin’ truck,” he grit out.

Boomerang’s entire face contorted in annoyance and offense for a moment. He looked over his shoulder at you as he climbed into the vehicle. “When’re you gonna stop lettin’ that one tag along?” He gestured to Rick.

Rick’s brows were pinched together as tight as you’d ever seen them. “Harkness.”

It was all that had to be said. He slipped into the back of the transport with everyone else. You were still looking at the now-empty door, unaware of the look that Rick was now giving to you. There were plenty of things that he wanted to say to you, do to you, right there in that moment just to prove a point but he couldn’t.

You started to speak. “So how—”

All the words flew right out of your head as Rick’s hand clamped tightly down onto your shoulder. Catching you off-guard he easily pushed you, pinning you between him and the side of the truck. One of his legs was slotted between yours. He was leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin when he spoke.

His voice was painfully low. “I bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”

You were so off-kilter that you couldn’t even come up with the witty responses that you were in the habit of giving him. He’d never put himself in such a close position with you at work before. You knew him well enough to know that being friendly with Boomerang would get under his skin a little bit. If only you’d known how much—you would’ve done it a hell of a lot sooner.

The digging of his fingertips even through your shirt had you locked in place. It was exciting as it was nerve-wracking, especially since there was a truckload of prisoners just a mere flap of metal away from you. You and Rick had always had different definitions of the term reckless, and this was about as reckless as it got for him. He tried so hard not to let his personal life bleed into the job, and yet here he was. You loved knowing that you could have this effect on him if you tried, even if it was making your knees nearly knock together in the moment.

It could’ve only been a couple seconds that had passed, but you felt like the silence had been stretching on infinitely when you finally managed to try and speak up. “I don’t—”

“You do,” he cut you off. There was the slightest twitch in his hand on your shoulder, a clue that he wanted to put it somewhere else but he stopped himself. Not feeling quite reckless enough for that yet.

“I—”

His voice seemed to drop even lower in volume, not that it dulled the sharp edges of what he was saying to you. “Don’t play dumb now.” He finally released you and stepped back. A professional amount of space existed between you once more. “Let’s go.” He started to walk towards the driver’s side. “We got shit to do.”

You gave yourself until the door on the other side of the vehicle opened. Then you took a deep breath and got yourself swung up into the passenger seat. There were bigger things to worry about for now, and you decided that those bigger things were why you still felt a slight shaking in your legs.

There was never such a thing as a simple mission with Task Force X. Even when things were pitched to you and Rick as easy, or simple, or in-and-out missions, they never seemed to play out that way. You chalked it up to the squad, and also to Waller never giving anyone a straight answer about anything. That usually covered your bases.

This time you had the additional layer of problems stemming from Rick’s attitude for the day. He wasn’t ever warm and fuzzy with the team, but the last time you saw him walking around with such a noticeable chip on his shoulder was back in the days of Midway City. Only this time his frustration wasn’t about the whole team, it was about one team member in particular. Or two, if you included yourself in the count.

Your team didn’t have the luxury of ascribing to the, “no man left behind,” mentality. But even so, it didn’t mean that no one could try at all. And who knows, maybe if someone who wasn’t Harkness had taken a bullet to the thigh, Rick would’ve reacted differently. You didn’t get to find out.

Rick had brushed past him, determined to get to get everything over as quickly as possible. His lack of concern was met with a slew of angry, vulgar remarks from Boomerang, and perhaps rightfully so. You stopped to at least help the man get to his feet, even if you weren’t going to be carrying him or acting as a human crutch for the rest of the mission.

“Flag,” you chastised as you caught up to him.

“What?” he snapped back, matching your tone.

You let your voice drop to just above a whisper. Loud enough for him to hear over everything happening around the two of you, but not so loud that the rest of the team with you was going to catch it.

“You said we’ll sort it at home, so let’s sort it at home.”

He shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? So you’re trying to tell me that there’s nothing different about—”

“That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you.”

The sound of gunfire up ahead stopped your conversation then and there. You knew that once the chaos had died down, the two of you would get right back into it. There were just more pressing matters to deal with at the moment, like the people pointing their guns at you.

There were no other major injuries to anyone else on the team. A few bumps and scrapes but it looked like Boomerang was the only one who was going to be taking a trip to the medical wing. He would’ve been looking forward to that if it wasn’t currently being preceded by Peacemaker carrying him back to the transport vehicle. No matter how much he struggled and swore, he wasn’t able to break free. It was a comical sight, seeing him draped over Peacemaker’s shoulder—everyone else was getting a kick out of it even if Boomerang wasn’t. Him and Rick.

Rick didn’t say a single word to you the entire drive back. Even when everyone was getting unloaded and sent back to their cells, it felt like he hadn’t even done so much as look at you. It was something that any other day you wouldn’t have noticed, because that’s just how it was when you were both working. But it felt different this time, tense in a way that it didn’t used to be.

He only spoke to you in the parking lot by your cars because you asked him a question that he couldn’t give a yes or no answer to. He didn’t even look at you as he answered it, instead looking down as he dug his keys out of his pocket.

“Yours or mine?” you asked.

“Yours.”

You waited for follow-up commentary that never came. You waited for him to pick back up the argument from earlier, or for him to reignite the jealous streak that he’d had going earlier still. But he gave you nothing as he unlocked the doors to his pickup.

With a roll of your eyes, you followed suit and got into your own car as well. If he wanted to keep stewing on all of this until you both got back to your place, you’d let him. You didn’t bother waiting for him as you peeled out of the parking lot and made your way home. It wasn’t as though he would be lagging that far behind you.

You’d just stepped into the shower at your apartment when you heard the heavy sound of his boots on the floor. You heard them pause outside the bathroom door, and for a moment you found yourself holding your breath and waiting to see if he was going to come in with you. The hesitation had you thinking that he was thinking about doing just that. But then the footsteps continued. The breath you’d been holding came out as a disappointed sigh.

When you were done with your shower, you weren’t expecting to walk into your bedroom to find Rick sitting on the edge of the bed, still dressed in his work save for his boots that were set just off to the side of him, but there he was. His hands were wrapped around the edge of the mattress, head tilted down as he stared at the floor.

“Shower’s yours if you want it,” you said, letting it announce your presence in the process.

That got him to look up at you. His expression wasn’t giving much of anything away, but as his eyes raked up and down your body you caught the way that his jaw clenched. His fingers gripped onto the blanket that covered your mattress just a little tighter as he took in the sight of the stray droplets of water still clinging to your shoulders and neck. Your skin warmed at the realization.

Seeing that he made no move to get up, you walked over to him. You stood between his legs, the rough fabric of his cargo pants a stark contrast to the softness of you skin, legs left exposed by the towel wrapped around you that barely reached the tops of your thighs. He swallowed hard, eyes crawling their way up your body to your face. Now he was in the position of having to look up at you, a position he didn’t find himself in very often. Even though his eyes gave him away, he tried to keep his unbothered façade in place.

“Still not talking to me, then? Came over just to give me the silent treatment in my own home?”

He remained silent, and you were wondering if it was because he was stringing together what it was that he wanted to say, or if he just couldn’t get the words out. Either way, you were painfully curious as to what was going to happen next.

“C’mon,” there was a playful lilt to your tone as you went to cup his face with your hand, “don’t—”

You stopped yourself short when he reached up and grabbed tightly onto your wrist. It didn’t hurt. He’d never hurt you. But his grip was tight enough to prove a point. Your jaw snapped shut as he held onto you, preventing and continuing to keep you from being able to touch his face.

“He doesn’t get to touch you like that,” he finally said, each word spoken low and deep.

His voice, his words, the look on his face, it all sent a wave of chills over your body. The same feeling you had outside the transport earlier, that feeling of being rooted to the ground beneath you, came right back. You couldn’t even bring yourself to reach out and touch him with your other hand.

Your voice came out quieter than you planned. “It wasn’t…” You trailed off as he lowered your hand that he was holding, his grip loosening off your wrist as he started to slide his hand up the bare skin of your arm until it was on your shoulder.

His fingers curled over the curve of your shoulder. “No one gets to touch you like that.”

You took a breath, determined to get a full sentence out this time. “I guess I didn’t think it would bother you so much.”

Whatever snarky, angry response you had been gearing up for, he didn’t deliver. Instead, he pulled you closer, your small step turning into a stumble as your hands landed on his shoulders to brace yourself. His hands instantly went to your waist, fingers digging into the plush fabric of the towel that was wrapped around you. He didn’t break his gaze the entire time.

His tone was even, almost dangerously so. “It did.”

The stubborn part of you was drawing in a breath to tell him that you weren’t sorry, that you weren’t going to apologize, that maybe if he’d just taken the time to talk to you about how he felt or what all of this was maybe the two of you wouldn’t be in this situation. But before you could even get yourself to utter the first syllable, he tightened his grip on your hips and quickly turned the both of you so that you landed on your back on the bed with a surprised yelp.

It took him no time at all to move you both so that you were in the center of the bed. One hand firmly cupped your jaw as he pinned his lips to yours in a heated kiss, a kiss that had you all but melting into the comforter of your bed. Your palms flattened against the planes of muscle across his chest for the briefest moment before you balled the fabric of his shirt into your fists. You pulled him closer to you, as tight as you could manage as you laid beneath him.

He gave into it for a moment as his tongue slipped past your lips into your mouth. You moaned at the sensation, his tongue on yours, the way the tips of his fingers were starting to press harder into your jaw. You were about to loop your legs around his waist, lock yourself to him, when he pulled away from you.

You were gasping for breath, fingers still gripping his shirt as he pulled back. Bringing his hand away from your jaw, he brought both hands to the top edge of the towel you were wearing. His fingers wrapped around the hem of it, he finally pried his gaze away from your face. He peeled the towel open, letting both sides of it fall away from you, leaving you completely exposed. His tongue ran along his bottom lip as he drank in the sight of you lying beneath him.

The rise of his chest as he pulled in a deep breath was impossible to miss. Your hands moved from his chest up to the sides of his neck, fingers interlocking at the nape of it as you pulled him back down into another kiss. He gave in without a fight, leaning his body weight onto you as he kissed you, hands racing down your sides, of your hips and onto your thighs.

His lips strayed from yours, dragging along to your jaw and down to your neck, leaving small, quick nips along the way. He moved down to your chest, lips and tongue teasing as they traveled over your breasts, pulling one taut nipple into his mouth and sucking on it in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him before he moved and repeated the process with the other.

“Rick,” his name fell from your lips, needy and breathless as you tangled your fingers into his hair. It was the only thing you could get yourself to say as he sucked a mark into the plush skin of your breast.

He kissed his way down your stomach, peppering a trail of kisses across your hips before moving down to your thighs. His teeth grazed along the soft, sensitive skin on the insides of your legs, the sensation making you drape your legs over his shoulders out of pure instinct.

His lips grazed over your folds, enough to feel how wet you were, not enough to give you any relief because of it. You tried to lift your hips and he immediately slid his arms and placed his hands so that they were pinning your hips to the bed once more. You whined, hands tugging at his hair.

Then you felt his tongue running up your slit, teasing you in a way that had you shuddering beneath him. You tried to pull him closer with no success, resigning yourself to his whim now. He might not have been able to say or do anything before, but he was the one in control now.

He kissed your core, tongue darting out until he switched and wrapped his lips around your clit. You moaned as his tongue ran over the nerves, causing your thighs to clamp around either side of his head.

“Fuck, Rick,” you moaned, grip on his hair loosening just enough to lightly drag your fingernails along his scalp. “Don’t stop.”

You felt one of his hands move from your hip and for a moment you were worried that he was going to stop just because you had asked him not to. You lifted your head up off the mattress, looking down at the sight of him nestled between your thighs. The way he looked had the breath getting caught in the back of your throat. Then he opened his eyes, looking up at you with his mouth still pressed to your core. You opened your mouth to try and say something when you felt two of his fingers pressing lightly against your slit. He covered them with your slick before pushing them into you, not breaking his eye contact with you as he did. The moan you let out had him tightening his grip on your hip, sucking harder on your clit as you writhed beneath his touch.

When he felt the way your thighs began to tremble, starting to clench tighter around him, he picked up the pace even more. Even though it was muffled, he could still hear the string of curses you let out the closer you got to your climax, the desperate way you said his name as you begged him to make you cum.

Seconds later your walls tightened around his fingers, your hips bucking up off the bed as you came. He worked you through it, his fingers and lips coated in your release as he refused to let up. He kept going even when your hands were pushing his shoulders, whining from the overstimulation. Your legs trembled as they hung limply over his shoulders, unable to muster up the strength to pull him closer or push him away.

You let out a trembling breath when he pulled his fingers out of you. He pressed one more kiss to the inside of your thigh before crawling his way back up your body. Without a beat of hesitation he caught your lips with his, tongue instantly running over yours allowing you to taste yourself off of him.

The friction of the rough fabric of his pants against your sensitive, naked core had you whining into his mouth as he kissed you. Still, instead of pushing him away, you started to undo his belt buckle. The second he pressed his body flush to yours again you’d felt how hard he was. Now you just wanted him inside you.

Undoing the button and zipper on his pants, wasted no time pushing both his pants and his underwear down off his hips in one motion. Rick barely took the time to kick them the rest of the way off before pushing into you.

The low moan of pleasure that he let out turned into your name as he bottomed out inside you. He pressed a harsh, needy kiss to your lips before letting his head drop into the crook of your neck. He gave you a couple long, slow thrusts to adjust before picking up the pace in a way that communicated all of his desperation for you. Your nails sank into his shoulders as he pounded into you, just looking for something to keep you tethered as you started to see stars behind your eyes all over again.

He nipped at your neck and shoulder as he pulled your legs so that they were looped tighter around him. He buried himself inside you, coaxing you along when you whimpered out that you were going to cum again. He pressed a kiss right below your ear, the praise he was whispering to you, calling you his, was enough to send you tumbling over the edge. He fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts beginning to falter as he felt your walls clenching around him. A few more sharp snaps of his hips had him spilling inside you.

He collapsed against you, fighting to catch his breath as his hear rested against your chest. He could hear the fast beat of your heart against his ear, and you could feel the quick breaths he was taking as he looped his arms around you. His touch was soft, gentle in a way it hadn’t been just moments before.

You rested one hand on the back of his head, the other between his shoulder blades. You idly toyed with strands of his hair as you let your eyes close. Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, instead choosing to revel in the silence and the closeness that came with it. It also gave you each a little while longer to catch your breath.

Eyes still closed, you spoke up, your voice soft but light. “So, you wanna talk about it?” you asked with a quiet laugh.

He was still laying on your chest. You didn’t know for sure but you were willing to bet that his eyes were closed too. “About what?” he replied in a half-mumble.

You dragged your fingers up and down his spine, pressing through his shirt. “Oh, so we’re just going to pretend you haven’t been angry and jealous all day? Gonna pretend that’s not where this came from?” You kept your tone upbeat enough so that it wouldn’t descend into an argument. That wasn’t what you were looking for.

It worked, too, because it got him to let out a laugh. “Wasn’t all day.”

You shook your head, would’ve rolled your eyes if they were open. “You’re such a pain.”

“And you’re not?” he joked right back. He lifted his head to look at you, which got you to open your eyes. “You gonna try and sit there and pretend you weren’t doing that shit to get under my skin?”

You smirked, giving a half-hearted shrug. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Why wouldn’t—”

“Oh, c’mon, Rick. We’ve been doing this song and dance for how long now? And we…you never…” You reached up to drag your hands down your face. “We’ve never talked about it. I figured that was your nice way of saying…you know.”

He frowned at that. “Oh.”

You laughed, letting your head drop back to the mattress again. “Good talk.”

He chuckled, pulling away from you just enough so that he could shift and lay beside you. It was easier to look at you that way as he propped his elbow and rested his head in the palm of his hand. “I never said anythin’ because I figured you knew.”

You rolled onto your side to face him. “Knew what?”

His other hand tenderly grazed along your cheek, the callouses on his fingers not feeling harsh in the slightest. “How I feel about you.”

You leaned into his touch. “I’m not a mind reader, you know,” you said with a small laugh. “And, you know,” you placed your hand over his, “you’re not exactly the most open book.”

He cracked a small grin. “No?”

You laughed. “No.”

He was still smiling as he dragged the pad of his thumb along your cheek. “Well, now you know.”

You nodded. “Now I know.”

He pulled you in close to him, tucking your head beneath his chin. You settled into him with ease, the way you had so many times before. He held you tight enough so that you could feel his heartbeat thudding against the side of your face.

He pressed a lazy kiss to the top of your head before saying, “Harkness ever puts a hand on you again though, I’m chopping the fuckin’ thing off.”

You laughed, patting his chest in a joking, reassuring manner. “Sure you are.”

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon @words-and-seeds @thrnlvr (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

#suicide squad #the suicide squad #rick flag #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #x reader #x reader fic #suicide squad fanfiction #rick flag smut #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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twirlyleafs · 4 months

Text

“Scaredy-cat”

William Nylander x reader

TW: alcohol, slight angst

~~~~

“You wanna dance?”

You tore your eyes away from the happy couple to look at your boyfriend, your eyebrows raised. He simply just stared back, a small smile on his face, awaiting your answer.

“I don’t dance, William.” You clarified, reaching to take a sip from your champagne flute.

“Aw come on, it’s a wedding.” He exclaimed, turning eagerly towards you. His knee bumped into yours and his hand automatically patted your leg, as to say sorry. You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, which he most definitely wasn’t even aware of.

“I don’t know why that would matter.”

“Because people dance at weddings. Especially people who are in love.” He dragged out the word at the end, almost giggling. When you locked eyes with him you could see how they were slightly glossy, his cheeks a rosy shade. He was obviously more tipsy than you had realized. It was adorable.

“And we’re in love?” You teased, earning an exaggerated frown in response.

“Of course we are.”

You laughed and leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, the frown on his face dissolving. Parting your lips you hoped he would forget about his inquiry, but when he pulled away you knew he wouldn’t let it go that easy.

“Come on Will, dancing is really not my thing.” You sighed, taking another sip from your glass.

“But I’m your thing,” he whined, pushing his bottom lip out. “And I want to dance with you. Please?”

You scanned his face for a few seconds, mind trying to come up with literally any excuse. Sighing, you realized you wouldn’t be able to say no to his big, blue eyes. So you just nodded. William grinned widely and practically jumped up on his feet. As he brushed off his trousers you downed the rest of your drink and put the glass down. Grabbing his outreached hand you let him pull you over to the dance floor that was quickly filling up. Without a word he placed your hand on his shoulder, grabbing the other with his own. He pressed a kiss to it as he wrapped his free arm around your waist. You couldn’t help but smile.

“See? It’s not that bad.” Will argued, swaying the two of you to the beat. You just hummed, glancing down at your heels. “It’s okay if you step on me.” He added.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, looking back up at him. He smiled widely, pulling you somehow even closer to him. You head rested comfortably against his shoulder and after a while you weren’t even thinking about moving, you just followed his lead. Will leaned his cheek against your head and you felt his breath on your hair.

“This is actually nice.” You admitted, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

“I told you.”

“Yeah but this is barely dancing. We’re just swaying.” You pointed out, trying to defend your earlier position on the matter. Will laughed and agreed with a kiss to the top of your head.

“When we get married we’re gonna have to learn how to properly waltz though.”

He must have felt how your whole body tensed up, and even if he didn’t he definitely noticed how you almost tripped, gripping his shoulder tighter not to fall. You mentally slapped yourself for reacting so harshly when he pulled away slightly to look down at you.

“Are you freaking out because I mentioned marriage or are you just a really bad dancer?” He asked, trying to ease the sudden tension with something resembling a joke. When you avoided his gaze, still occupied with processing his earlier statement, his shoulders slumped. “Oh, right.” He stopped the swaying, slowly letting his hands fall from your body. William took a small step back, reaching up to scratch the stubble on his cheek before pulling his hair back. Your mind was racing. It was an overreaction, you knew it was, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The thought of marriage had never been on the table for you, not since you were a kid, and even though you loved Will very much it had never even occurred to you that you’d one day be husband and wife. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, it’s just that the way he said it so casually threw you for a loop. You weren’t ready for it.

“I’m gonna go get a drink. You want anything?”

You blinked and looked up at the man in front of you. Now it was his time to advert his gaze. He had pushed his hands into his pockets, rolling back on his heels.

“Willy-“ you began, moving closer again. You placed a hand against his abdomen, unconsciously toying with the end of his tie. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t stop you. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” You could tell that his smile was forced and it made your heart physically hurt. “I should’ve known better than to just throw that out there, I know you scare easily.” He pressed a calm, reassuring kiss to your forehead, but you could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. Will once again stated that he wanted a drink, this time adding that he’d bring you back a glass of wine, before walking away. You stared after him, cursing yourself for hurting him.

“It’s fucking freezing out here.”

You turned your head to see William walking towards you, two glasses of wine in hand. One of them was almost empty, he placed the other one on the balustrade in front of you. After he left you on the dance floor you escaped through the balcony door, hiding out in the dark since. William didn’t sound mad, or particularly sad either for that matter, and you almost wondered if he had forgotten about the whole thing. He didn’t meet your gaze, but discarded his suit jacket and handed it to you without a word.

“You don’t-“

“Take it,” he interrupted you, not rudely but with a soft and determined voice. “I’m guessing you’re out here thinking and I’m not letting you freeze to death before we’ve had a chance to talk about it.”

He had not forgotten. With a sigh you accepted the jacket, slipping it on while quietly thanking him. You could feel him watch you for a bit before turning and leaning down over the railing, looking out over the dark garden. You did the same, sipping carefully on your wine.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked after a while. You closed your eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” When you didn’t answer him William sighed. He shuffled closer, until your arms were touching, and bumped into you softly. “It’s fine babe. I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know better than to surprise you like that.”

You knew he was trying to make you feel better, to shift some of the blame from your shoulders to his, but his words only made you spiral.

“You said that earlier too.” You put you glass down and turned enough to look at him. Will raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that? Do you always feel like you have to think about what you say to me?”

Your boyfriend watched you for a second, contemplating how to handle the question. With a slight shrug he turned to lean his back against the railing, eyes still on you.

“I don’t know. Maybe a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because you react the way you do. The first time I called you my girlfriend you didn’t talk to me for a week.”

“You were on a roadtrip.” You tried to defend yourself but the look William gave you had you press your lips shut again.

“You didn’t answer my calls. When I told you I love you for the first time you freaked out too, asking me to take it back for days before you finally accepted it.” He reached to grab his wineglass, taking a sip. You stared at him for a few seconds before you had to look away, trying to comprehend what he was saying. You knew you had the occasional trouble with, say feelings, but you hadn’t realized that it was so obvious until now. Your boyfriend was standing right next to you, calling you out for being emotional unavailable, and you felt the familiar feeling of utter disgust for yourself settle in your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You said again. Will turned his head to look at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

“For what?” He asked again and you had trouble deciphering his voice. He could be mad, or sad, or completely unbothered.

“For being difficult.”

Things were quiet for a second before Will moved. At first you thought he was walking away but then he placed his glass down before pushing away from the railing. A moment later he was standing right in front of you, hands smoothing down your arms before they landed on your hips.

“Look at me.” You shook your head, but William squeezed your hips to let you know he wouldn’t budge. “Look at me.” When you finally did he was staring down at you, the softest expression on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to be so-“ you started, but William hushed you with a gentle shake of his head.

“Listen to me.” When he could tell you weren’t going to disrupt him he began, voice mellow and sweet. “You’re not difficult. Peculiar? Yes. Confusing? Sometimes. Jumpy? Sure. But not difficult. Sure, sometimes I wish that you felt secure enough to not have to second guess me, or us, or anything else. But you do, and I know you do, and I know you can’t help it. It’s not difficult, it’s the way you are and I love you, apprehensiveness and all.”

“But I don’t want you to have to catch yourself before you speak around me.” You sighed.

“I don’t. Or, well I kind of do. Sometimes. Rarely.” When you didn’t seem convinced he reached up to gently cup your face, thumbs stroking over your cheeks. “Look. Sometimes I refrain from saying certain stuff because I know it’ll make you anxious. Sometimes you do the same to me, like after a bad game, right? It doesn’t bother me. Think of it like proof of how well we know each other, how much we care.” Your eyes flickered between his for a moment and you knew he was being genuine. When you offered a small nod, showing him you accepted the explanation, he smiled. William wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his body, and you tucked your head in underneath his chin.

“You’re so good.” You mumbled, hands gripping his shirt. “Too good.” You really meant it. You’d never thought you’d find someone like him, someone so soft and kind and gentle and funny and understanding. He was the whole package, everything you needed.

William hummed, pressing a few kisses against the top of your head. “You’re pretty good too, you know.”

#William nylander x reader #william nylander #toronto maple leafs #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl writing #William nylander one shot #imagine #William nylander imagine #nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey oneshot #hockey writing

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cookiesupplier · 4 months

Text

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Twenty Two

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, panic attack, stalking, online bullying, mental health issues.

❗PLEASE CHECK THE AUTHORS NOTE FOR THIS CHAPTER.❗

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

❗❗ author’s note: This chapter includes description of an emotional breakdown, I am not including skipping points this time as it is very integrated in a characters thought processes. However if this is triggering to you, please be aware of this.

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram

Tag List is Open, please let me know if you would like to be added to it or in general.

“I don’t know, but I think it’s about time we try to find out.”

Talia looked at Ricky with wide eyes when she heard that, she could tell him, tell him about her father’s connection to the clinic back home, the one with the doctors that he was friends with. She’d mentioned that he’d tried to have her committed to Ricky already, she remembered that, but not that he knew the people there who could possibly help them, personally. People that he could ask for help. Would they, help them? Would she even want her family's help after how they’d treated her for years? She’d been right, the very soulmate that they claimed she was delusional about having, was standing right here… Swallowing, hell, a sinking feeling in her stomach, she could just hear her mother now. Claiming that this feeling coursing through her veins never happened to them, not in her parent’s soulmate bond, or any of her siblings, cousins, aunts, or uncles, so obviously it's not supposed to happen. If it didn’t happen to any of them, why would it possibly have happened to her?

Her so-called delusion that he was her soulmate must have destroyed this poor man.. Fuck fuck fuck.. Talia’s eyes flew to the floor, she remembered her mother ranting about all the things that could happen if she were to ever succeed in meeting Ricky, how he would have to pretend for her, if only for a moment, how that ‘poor man’ would have to let her down gently, feed her delusion while they called security on her so she didn’t make a fuss before they had her taken away. Then gone into detail about how she’d end up in a worse facility than the treatments her father was trying to get her admitted into if she ended up being dragged away by the officials.

Talia didn’t even realise she was crying until Ricky reached for her and lifted her chin back up from where she’d looked to the floor. Tilting her face up had one of her hot tears falling from her face and hitting the hand that she had wringing before her. Taking in a soft, almost inaudible gasp of breath as she tried not to meet his eyes, she didn’t want to do this.

What if her mother had been right? Had they all been right? What if she was broken? Had she done this to their soulmate bond? Was there just something wrong with her? Something that happened that she’d caused that had fundamentally destroyed them? Or worse. What if her parents had been right, and she’d been delusional about her tattoo all along?

Ricky had been fine until he met her, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he!? Yes, Grace hadn’t been his soulmate, but there were those that were happy with people who weren’t their soulmates all the time, and she’d ruined it. If she’d never come into his life, if Vinny had met Ava on her own, if Talia had never existed in this, he’d have been fine. Ava would have a new best friend, Grace. She felt more tears fall, and she couldn’t look at him, she couldn’t even focus on the noise in her head, the pain in her neck as she started to panic, the noise that was his voice trying to get her attention.

“Talia, Talia, Sweetheart, look at me, please?”

The tears just fell harder, faster, feeling his fingers against her skin in her panic..

“Shit shit shit,”

Ricky pulled back as Talia cried, he couldn’t get through to her, and she wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, what was he supposed to do to get her to snap out of it? Slap her? No way in hell, after the shit he’d already done to her there was no way he was going to fucking hit her that was barbaric! Pulling out his phone, he called Ava,

“Pick up, pick up… shit Ava Pick… why won't you pick up..”

It rang out.. So he tried Vinny.. And he had no luck there either..

“The one fucking time I need you to pick up the damn phone and you idiots are probably sucking face, shit.”

Scrolling on his phone, he came to another name and selected the number, and this time the tone barely rang twice before the call was picked up,

“Chris, man, I need your help, it’s Talia, she’s, she’s just.. Shit just get here, I don’t know, please. Help.”

Talia was virtually hysterical by the time Chris got there, and Ricky, well, he was freaking out internally. But at least, this time, touching her didn’t have their soulmate tattoo distracting him, driving him to, questionable ends with Chris on his way. Rick had at least managed to get her from the kitchen and into the living room, sitting her down on the couch. For some reason she was not even pulling away from him, after everything that would be what he’d expect, her to pull away, shove him away.. But instead, she had shocked him to no end in that she was clinging to him, her hands gripping his shirt, and crying against it, sobbing uncontrollably. Just as he realised what, the sobs were coming from her,

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

That was when heard Chris’ car pulling up out front of the house.. What in the world would did Talia have to be sorry for that would cause this kind of reaction, of all things?

“DOORS OPEN!”

Ricky had made sure it was when he’d brought her into the lounge, not wanting to leave her alone again in her state, looking at her now, he was glad of it. Glancing up at Chris, as much as he’d felt such a severe intensity seeing him with his connection with Talia just days ago, there was a fresh wave of relief washing over Ricky right now. Relief that there was someone who could help him with her, right here, now. Someone who cared about her here with him now. Yes, he was his best friend, but seeing them together, he could tell Chris cared enough that it mattered what happened to her.

“What the fuck happened, Ricky, you were supposed to talk to her, you said you were going to come over and talk to her.”

Rick knew he wasn’t going to be in Chris’ good books over what had happened between them in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure how he could explain what had happened with the way the soulmate tattoo seemed to be affecting them both the way it was, not that it could excuse it.

“I know! I know, just help me calm her down, and I’ll explain, please Chris?”

He knew the odds were that Chris was going to be royally pissed at him for what had happened between them earlier, but the truth was, Ricky didn’t even care anymore. He’d deserve it, and more, what he cared about right now was that Talia was going to be okay. Furthermore, he might be fucked up right now, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt her, that he wanted to have her fall apart into a complete wreck like this.

It was when Chris sighed and got a better look at Talia as he walked around the couch, focusing on the way she was clinging to him, the sobs against his shirt, that was when Chris gave in. Rick always knew he’d agree to help, it was why he’d rushed over here, but whether he’d rip into him demanding an explanation first had been a question. Honestly, Rick was not sure if he could explain why she was like this, one second they’d been talking about figuring out the mark, and the next she was freaking out. If he was a paranoid person, he’d wonder if she knew whether she’d done something to cause this, but Talia seemed to be just as confounded as he was by their soulmate tattoos.

Chris moved by them to sit by them on the three-seater couch, his hand rubbing down Talia’s back. She didn’t seem to want to let go of Ricky’s shirt or pull away from his chest, so they settled her between them. Ricky was massaging lightly up and down her arms, holding her close, and Chris stroking little circles down her spine, talking to her softly. Chris had his cheek resting on the back of her shoulder almost, and the three of them huddled together on the couch. It would be awkward if Ricky wasn’t so worried about what had set her off in the first place. Slowly she was starting to calm down, her sobs soothed, and her tears dried, and eventually, she was just leaning against him until he almost wondered if she was asleep.

Sure enough, as Chris leaned back, and just let his hand soothing run up and down her back lightly, glancing at Rick as he sighed, she was out like a light.

“I could take her to her room, but I don’t want to just leave her here alone. Not after that.”

Chris nodded slightly, which he could agree with, talking low, not wanting to wake her, after all that crying, she needed sleep, she would have worn herself out.

“Alright, well, we stay here, but start talking Rick, out with it.”

Ricky sighed, what to say, but he knew he had to say something, he was the one that had called Chris for help.

“Well, I came over, we talked, we talked Chris.”

Ricky saw the incredulous expression on his face.

“I apologised for the way I’ve been treating her, I swear I did, and we got to talking about everything. She thanked me, she thanked me, for apologising.”

Yeah, he saw the frown on Chris’ face, and he agreed with the sentiment exactly. No one should be thanked for apologising for being a fucking asshole and acting the way he had. He’d been treating her like she was worthless, and nothing, like she didn’t even exist because she wasn’t his soulmate, and she was.. Had wanted nothing to do with her, hadn’t even wanted to hear her out. He knew Grace was a bitch, but not even talking to Talia was on him.

Not Grace.

“But then ah.. Things started happening..”

“What things?”

Chris shifted, but Ricky couldn’t really move, Talia was still leaning against his chest, asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb her, and where her head was against his shoulder, she mumbled slightly, shit.. He stilled, not wanting to wake her, and watched as Chris rubbed his hand lightly down her back again to soothe her, waiting until she was calm again before he continued.

“Well, yesterday, since the party actually, I’ve noticed my soulmate tattoo has been doing strange things-”

“Ricky-”

“Wait, I know, it sounds insane it does, but it's been happening, and yesterday, I noticed, that Talia was reacting the same time my tattoo was getting these strange sensations. I didn’t say anything because of the video and needed to get it done, but then, when it started happening again today, I said something, I, well, I asked her if she could feel it.”

Hearing what Ricky was saying had Chris raising his eyebrows, looking down at the sleeping form of the tiny woman between them. He had heard things about soulmate tattoos potentially doing things like this, but never seen it, and it was only ever rumours from the people that he’d talk to. Some things could never be proven, some things that none of the doctors wanted to admit that they just never could know for certain. Like why, and how, the tattoos chose the people they did. They always talked about those kinds of things like it was down to a science like it was never wrong, but Chris was never sure, because if that was the case, why did some never even get the chance to meet their soulmates, and so many lived with so much pain from a loss of a bond that probably should never have been forced on them in the first place.

Chris had strong opinions about that, especially because he knew first-hand.

“And?”

“And it ah.. It got heated, extremely.. It was both of us, Chris, neither of us could help it, I fucking swear.”

Ricky remembered the way she told him how much she needed him, she just needed to touch him, and he swallowed slightly, shuddering, glancing down at her, what were they going to do, how were they going to handle this if he couldn’t be around her, alone with her, without their tattoos, doing that to them? Everyone said they could at least be friends, and how, how could they even be friends when that happened? Anyone that said it was just about self-control, Rick would personally take a fire poker and stick it in their eye because the feeling from his soulmate tattoo was like a fucking brand sometimes, and how was that not overwhelming?

Chris frowned just the same, it didn’t make it better to hear it, it didn’t make it better at fucking all that they were both been affected like this, that they were both being driven, and then his eyes flickered down to Talia, if she was driven to do something, and she thought, and Ricky..

“Did you walk away again?!”

Oh, the only thing sparing Ricky right now was Talia asleep against him, Chris’ terse words were only hushed for her benefit,

“Is that why she broke down Ricky? I don’t care what happened, I don’t care what she might have done, you both are going through this, and you need to figure this out together, not you walking away all th-”

“I didn’t walk away! I pulled away yes, but only to stop touching her, every time I touched her, even close to that, I couldn’t stop.”

Swallowing. He took in a slow breath, Chris still didn’t look happy, not in the least,

“This, this seems to be okay, I guess around other people, maybe I guess, seems to be okay.. But when we’re alone, it just, it’s like everything kicks into overdrive Chris, and these feelings from the soulmate tattoos, they’ve been building up, it’s just, it’s immense Chris, I, I can’t-”

Ricky choked off, he didn’t know how to handle any of this, he had been struggling even before this development, and now what the hell was he supposed to do? No, no, what were they were going to do? Shit. No, no they weren’t together, and even Talia agreed, they didn’t have to be, but dealing with this alone led them here hadn’t it? Sighing, if they kept going like this, they were just going to destroy each other, he wasn’t so stupid he couldn’t tell that.

“Then what caused this Rick, why’d she break down?”

Closing in his eyes, trying to focus on before, Talia had her meltdown even if all he could think of was that fear, that pain in her eyes as she started to cry and he couldn’t calm her down before he called Chris.

“I pulled away from her, okay yes I did that, not touching her, we talked, about how we couldn’t be, together”

Ricky sighed heavily,

“Chris, we were talking about this fucked up bond, and everything that happened with Grace, and how I can’t even handle being in my house let alone a relationship, how she deserves a better soulmate-”

“Rick-”

“Yeah, don’t worry Chris, she shut me down too. She gave me a talking too, told me to listen to all of you, and that just if I couldn’t trust myself, I should trust you-”

“Such a smart girl, our Talia.”

Ricky rolled his eyes at the smirk Chris gave him at that, which just made the singer laugh softly as he reached over and punched his upper arm lightly.

“Smart arse. Unfortunately, that brought up a thought that I really didn’t want to think about..”

The curious look on Chris’ face was clear, he wanted to know what Ricky meant.

“How everyone has been encouraging me towards her since I broke it off with Grace, it’s been feeling like you’ve all been pressuring me, pushing me as much as this fucking soulmate tattoo is now. It just -”

“Shit, Ricky, that isn’t what we -”

“I know, I know you guys only meant good things, but it didn’t feel good. I felt like shit, so in turn I took it in the worst way, in turn I spiralled with everything you said. Then with Talia saying I should trust you, and feeling like everyone was pushing her on me, thinking every time we were alone we couldn’t control ourselves, the whole conversation brought up the soulmate tattoos and thinking about them.. It all basically led to shit skyrocketing and the tattoos reacting pretty badly.”

Ricky didn’t want to admit that it was Talia talking about her time with Chris that had the tattoo reacting the way it had, because it made him feel like an even bigger asshole. He had no problem with her having friends, he didn’t, hell, right now, Chris sitting here with them, his hand rubbing up and down her back like that, didn’t both him at all, so where was the line? What was going on here?

“So, I said we should find out what’s going on, and the next thing I know, she starts getting upset, and soon it’s a full meltdown. I don’t know Chris, I just don’t know.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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ff7-has-taken-me-over · 4 months

Note

Do you have any more Soap x Everyone prompts? I eat them up to quickly

Ooh! I actually had a completely different idea for this at first but then this hit me and I got excited.

But! What about a blind Soap and his reactions/interactions with different monster hybrid 141/los vaqueros/König???

Also these monster hybrids aren’t based on anything in particular from the characters or nothing, it’s just the first one that popped into my head when I thought of the character and I went with it. I’m also making up my own laws and rules for these so shush!

Gorgon Ghost:

Obviously Simon’s got the whole, turn to stone if he looks at people thing so he’s always wearing sun glasses. Cause apparently, they were just the perfect deterrent for his little powers.

But every time Johnny’s with him the Scot insists that he doesn’t wear them, claiming he’d be heartbroken if he were denied the sight of Simons ‘beautiful eyes’. Which was bullshit since the man couldn’t even see but who was Simon to deny him.

Johnny spends forever after missions, sitting in Simon’s lap, fingers tracing over strong features with feather light touches.

Sometimes he ventures a little further back, giving gentle strokes to the snakes that constitutes Simon’s hair and giggling like a mad man when they either wrap around his fingers lightly or nip at the tips. They weren’t venomous so neither of them were ever too worried when that happened.

But Johnny always acted like it was a normal thing. Smiling wide when he finally left them alone and went back to tracing his features. If they hadn’t already done the routine a hundred times over he’d think the Scot was trying to gain a sense of what he looked like. Now he simply relishes in the touches, using them to ground himself and simply exist within the present.

Harpy Gaz: (I realise there’s a proper term but shush)

Soap was surprisingly good at grooming Gaz’s wings. The latter was always hesitant to let the man near, cause while he loved him dearly and would do near anything, his wings were wildly more sensitive than the rest of him. He didn’t want to run the risk of Soap accidentally doing something wrong and either leaving the Scot feeling guilty over it or have him be guilty cause he’d lashed out.

But Gaz had eventually caved when he saw how gentle Soap was with Ghost’s snakes. The fact that man absolutely lit up the room with how brightly he smiled also, might have played a role in it.

Now, it was just a regular occurrence. They were in the military, it was pretty much a given that Gaz’s wings would always manage to become unkempt somehow, someway. But that just meant that it was always a given that Soap would help him groom them. Sitting on Gaz’s back and gently combing through the feathers with soft, but sure fingers.

Sometimes he’d even give the man a massage, working out tense spots and laughing when he felt Gaz turn into a melted mess beneath him, gentle trills escaping him with how relaxed he always became.

Whenever they finished, Gaz would turn onto his back, opening his wings and arms just so Soap could lie down and he could wrap them up. It was cozy apparently and Soap loved feeling the all encompassing warmth and softness that came with it.

Demon Price:

There was a reason there was a blind man in the military despite all the red tape and technicalities and what not. Whether Price would ever confirm if it was truly his fault or not though was an entirely seperate issue that reoccurred at least once a month.

As it stood though John McTavish was his. He was his soldier. His responsibility. His blood pact. Unfortunately, he just so happened to be the base’s human as well. Which meant that no matter how much Price craved and wanted the man’s attention to be his and only his, there wasn’t a chance in hell it was going to happen now.

Fortunately John was aware of it though. Knew how much Price wanted to take him away and how often his desires almost got the better of him so he also had his own, little designated thing with the man. It was an unspoken rule on base. Everyone got time with John. Nobody interrupted. If you did, then there better be an excuse better than the world ending to save your life.

John would always dress up all pretty for him, coming to Price with a pretty little blush and unsure smile cause he was never quite sure how well he’d done with the wardrobe he was wearing. Granted, it was pretty hard for the man to make anything look bad. He looked amazing in whatever he wore.

If that happened to be due to the fact that Price bought him all his clothes and made sure they were all similar in style and complimentary in colour then who cares? His boy was happy and Price got to see him dressed up in the things he bought him.

Nagual Alejandro & Rodolfo:

Ale and Rudy were usually hanging around base as Jaguars, either lazing about after a hard mission or getting residual energy out by play fighting outside.

Occasionally though you could hear Soap with them, the two of them curled around the Scot while he chattered away about one thing or another, either completely oblivious to the way the jaguars were usually asleep, or not caring a single bit.

It always looked like the smaller man was serving as their pillow, one’s head in his lap while the other would be propped up on his shoulder, the man’s body resting against someone’s flank.

It was hard to tell how any of them were comfortably positioned, the two jaguars black as night and blending in with one another near perfectly if not for the pale man between them. Soap never seemed to mind though, hands running through their fur and occasionally shifting to scratch in no particular order.

Though given how the two would melt just a touch more when he did scratch a particular spot you’d think he was able to just know that that would be a soft spot for them.

Spectre König:

Kǒnig had a hard time keeping himself fully corporeal sometimes. He was so used to hiding and living out his military days as a spectre that he’d forget that he’d actually have to be in a physical form for some things.

But Soap made it easier. Something about the man made König want to exist within the same plane, if not to be able to actually touch him then just to exist beside him. It helped that he could tell Soap appreciated it when he was in physical form as well.

When it got particularly difficult Soap would always be there, words soft and coaxing and his touch even more so when König managed to gather his wits enough for it.

When he was fully in his plane Soap got this distinctly proud look in his eyes, blindness doing nothing to take away from the glint when he looked in König’s general direction and greeted him warmly. The reaction always made him feel warm inside. The blood he didn’t have rushing through him and warming him something stupid.

Sometimes he swore he felt his long dead heart kickstart. Especially when Soap laid his head over his chest, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist as if his arms alone were holding König together. Given that he didn’t feel the need to come apart like smoke when he did he’d argue that maybe it wasn’t too far from the truth.

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killakirby · 1 year

Text

untitled (neteyam x reader)

notes ☽: the intro to late night flying pt.2! severely unedited and liable to change but i did promise a snippet, even though it's coming way later than i thought 🫣. the fic is a lot longer than i thought it would be lmao, and i'm probably going to post it on ao3 as well just because i feel like it would be easier to read on there lol. anyways, send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic :)

you and neteyam stand before both of your parents, heads bowed down, side by side several feet apart. the silence in the room aches to be broken, but the air vibrates with around your parents, whether it’s because of their anger or worry; you can’t discern.

the olo’eyktan finally speaks, “what we’re the two of you thinking—no what were you thinking neteyam??” out of the corner of your eye, you see neteyam slightly flinch at the sound of his name. “it’s one thing to stay out past eclipse on your own, but it’s another thing to endanger another kid. you know that the sky people have returned, and that’s exactly why children, like the two of you, aren’t allowed to be so far out during dark! you could’ve at least radioed us to inform us of your location! what if the two of you had been captured, huh? what would’ve happened then? what if the sky people found out who you were, and decided they didn’t need to keep her alive?? you unnecessarily put her in harm’s way! what were you thinking?”

jake finally takes a breath, pausing waiting for his son to respond. neteyam doesn’t respond, and the olo’eyktan’s voice trembles more with anger than concern now, “answer me! what were you thinking, kid?”

neteyam shifts uncomfortably, and offers a quiet, “ i forgot.” neytiri hisses unapproving of his response, and jake scoffs, “you forgot? i’m going to need a better answer than that. not once have you forgotten something as important as this. what were you thinking?” neteyam shrugs his shoulders and repeats himself, this time a little exasperated, “i forgot! i don’t know what else you want me to say! i forgot, i wasn’t thinking—“

“exactly!” jake starts, “that’s the problem, you weren’t thinking! both of you could’ve been hurt! you could’ve gotten her killed if the sky people found the two of you! you’re supposed to be better than this! i don’t expect this type of behavior from you, i thought we’ve trained you—raised you, better than this! never, did i ever, think that you would be capable of doing something so stupid—“

your head snaps up, and you lock eyes with your olo’eyktan and cut off his words, “don’t speak to him like that. he doesn’t deserve it, it was my idea. i caused us to be late.” your mother and father finally make noise, hissing at your disrespect to your olo’eyktan, shocked at your boldness, but you refuse to revert to silence now. “it was my fault! i asked him to fly with me—i needed to get away from here for a little bit, from the pressure, and i convinced him to stay out with me past eclipse.” neteyam quickly turns to look at you, his brow furrowed in frustration, a look of confusion in his eyes at the lack of hesitation you had to lie for him, and tries to interrupt you but you keep barreling forward. “he tried to remind me that we should start flying back as it was nearing eclipse, but i wasn’t ready to come back yet. right, neteyam? remember, it was my fault, i should’ve listen to you right?”

your eyes are pleading, trying to get him to agree with you so he wont’ be treated to harshly, and neteyam fights himself for a moment before he ends up agreeing with you, not wanting to upset you on top of his parents, “yeah. yes, i stayed out with her when she wasn’t ready to return home. i wanted to make sure nothing happened to her, so i figured i could just escort her back when she was ready.”

jake and neytiri share a look, obviously aware that neteyam was lying, but for what reason they were unaware. they ask him one more time if he’s sure of this, and for the first time his voice becomes confident again, making direct eye contact with his father as he states, “yes, sir.” and your parents start to berate you for your “stupidity” at his confirmation. your mother is particularly vicious with her word choice as she yells at you for risking his life because you refused to mature and accept your duties and role in the omatikaya.

you burst, tears of frustration gathering in your eyes, and angrily try to explain your self, “that’s exactly why i left in the first place! i’m sixteen mom! i have two more years before i am of age! why do i have to be promised to some kid, that i do not even know, like i am worth nothing?” you pause, taking a shuddering breath, and turn to your father with pleading eyes, “why dad? am i not enough as i am now? i hunt, i practice archery, i fly, i scout, i patrol, what more do i need to do to prove that i am valuable member of the omatikaya? do i only matter if i am an accessory to some boy, and my only role is to have his children?” you’ve stunned your father into silence. the three sully’s are frozen at your words, neteyam thrown into a whirlwind as you’ve never told him this, and he realized he never asked why you were hiding atop the mountains when he found you.

your mother pretends she never heard your outburst, and speaks, “you need to prove that you’re not only a capable warrior, but also that you are a capable mate. as punishment for your actions tonight, you will not fly for two weeks! you will meet with possible mates your father and i have chosen, and while i will not force a mate upon you that you do not choose, you must decide on possible candidates to be promised to. am i understood?”

all you manage to get out is a broken, soft, “what?” your mother ignores your visible turmoil, and you father has fallen silent. the seconds passing feel as if they’ve been stretched out to years, and when you see that your mother isn’t going to budge, you respond in the only manner that would be accepted. “yes, mother.”

your eyes fall to the ground in front of you, and you manage to will the tears in your eyes away, refusing to cry in the presence of your clan leaders. your head is bowed as low as possible, head tucked to your chin and you blank out of the remaining conversation. as you and your parents make to leave, you catch jake delivering neteyam’s punishment; he’s also on the receiving end of the two week no-fly ban. and even if your punishment is objectively harsher than his own, you wouldn’t change the fact that you lied for him.

i know i'm evil, i should've sneaked more! it's honestly terribly unedited right now i'm embarrassed. this snippet alone is just over 1k words and it's only a sliver of the final work. anyways, if you want to be added to the taglist, send me and ask, and you'll be the first to know when i post it!

much love, <3 kirby !!!

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ibetonlosingroys · 2 months

Text

Hunger Chapter 2

Roman just wants to self destruct in peace.

Read on ao3:

Roman’s head aches. There is a vice like grip wrapping around his forehead. It feels like his eyes may pop out of his face at any moment from the pressure. He’s sprawled out on the couch, where he has taken up a permanent residence and looks at the flickering images on the television, not watching it. The static blaring in between his ears is enough stimulation for him. He thought he would be hungry, but that stopped long ago. His stomach no longer growled, his mouth no longer watered at the thought of food. Roman had come to the realization that he could just remain like this forever, expending no energy and consuming nothing. He merely exists, and he thinks to himself that’s about all he can handle right now. This is fine. He might even like this.

Sometimes he sleeps, sometimes he just closes his eyes and listens to the room around him. He even gets up to use the restroom a couple of times. He laughs at himself, wondering what he has to piss out, not even a sip of water has passed his lips since the tailgate party. Was that just last night? It’s hard to remember. He has missed something important, that he is sure of. This is confirmed when he picks up his phone and scrolls past dozens of missed calls and texts from all three of his siblings. He’s even missed several calls from Mencken, so it must’ve been the election. “Whoops,” he says aloud, voice thin and crackly. He giggles and rolls over, pressing his face into the cushions and allows more time to pass.

The next thing he is aware of is a knock at his door. In his current state, it feels like a thunderous banging permeating his skull. He grumbles, rolling onto his back but before he can even contemplate getting up, there’s the sound of a key turning in the lock. Roman’s only ever given his apartment key to two people, Tabitha and his sister. He would sooner believe that his father rose from the dead than the idea of Tabitha choosing to enter his home again. So that just leaves…

Shiv barreled in the door, shoes clacking on the floor and calling his name. “Rome? You decent? You alive?” Her voice grew louder as she approached the living room. Roman levered himself into a more upright position on shaking arms and cleared his throat to speak. “You know Siobhan, in some cultures it’s considered rude to burst into someone’s home uninvited.”

“Roman.” Her tone was serious now as she dropped her bag on the floor and perched on the coffee table across from him. “You missed the election.” Her gaze burned through him and she gestured firmly as she spoke. “You weren’t returning any of our calls. You cannot go dark like that on the biggest news night of the next four years.” Her volume increased and Roman groaned, shoving the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and rubbing furiously. “Shiv, I can’t fight right now. I don’t feel good, for real, so if you’re going to really chew into me, can we pencil it in for a later date?”

He met her eyes fully for the first time since she arrived and watched as they narrowed at him even more. The silence grew but he refused to break. “Still fighting off that bug?” She asked. “Yeah, well haven’t had a lot of down time recently.” He gestures vaguely. Shiv reaches out, moving to feel his forehead with the back of her hand and Roman recoils with a chuckle. “No way, you’re not about to test out your maternal instincts on me, nice try super mom.”

Shiv straightens and pulls away, crossing her arms over her chest, “And what’s that supposed to mean?” She asks. Roman is far too tired to play any of their usual games. “It means you’re obviously pregnant, I don’t know how stupid you think I am,” he grumbles. “Well it’s like you said. Not a lot of down time recently. Hasn’t felt like a good time to share the news.” Something very real and very human crosses Shiv’s face, almost like hurt, and Roman feels like shit. “Yeah, the timing sucks. I’m really sorry Shiv.” He manages in an approximation of comfort. That stricken look is still drawn across her features and he decides he can’t stand it anymore. “Is it Tom’s?” He asks.

“Yeah. It’s Tom’s. Jesus Roman!” She uncrosses her arms and flails in exasperation. There she is. Roman chuckles, allowing himself to slump back against the couch cushions and rub at the tension pounding behind his forehead. “So you’re really sick huh?” She asks, and he hums in agreement. “Think you’re gonna be able to bounce back for the big show tomorrow?” Roman freezes. The funeral. “Tomorrow?” He asks, and fuck he feels his voice wavering. “Yeah… Rome, it’s tomorrow.” Shiv replies, her voice taking on a softness that he is only used to hearing when things are very very bad. “You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to,” she continues, “one of us can do it, it’s okay.”

He stares up at the ceiling fan, swimming in his vision. Shiv’s voice is too loud and the thought of tomorrow is too much. “I don’t wanna go, I can’t, I’m not going,” the words tumble out of his mouth beyond his control. “Not go at all?” Shiv is stunned. “I, uh, I appreciate that you’re not great right now, but it is important that you’re there Rome. Matsson will be there, and with it being so close to the vote…”

If Roman had the energy, he would scream. “I don’t care! I don’t, I can’t.” He feels tears prickling at his eyes and the absolute last thing he wants is for his sister to see him cry right now, but he doesn’t trust his shaking limbs to carry him into another room quickly enough. The only thing worse than crying in front of her would be fainting in front of her. “It’s too much,” he tries to explain as the tears leak out of his eyes, rolling down the side of his face and soaking into the pillow beneath his head. And oh god, he actually whimpers, sounding like a wounded animal. He brings his hands to cover his eyes and wills the couch to swallow him whole as he cries.

Shiv has fallen silent but he feels her hand come to rest on his shoulder. It’s warm and solid and horrifyingly, makes him cry even harder. “I’m sorry, Shiv I-” he chokes out, grabbing onto her hand and she shushes him. “Hey, come on. You’re okay.” She says, and Roman almost laughs. “You’re exhausted. You need some rest, let’s get you to bed.” She pats his shoulder and he groans, rubbing the tears from his face with the heel of his hand. He moves to sit up, sluggish and uncoordinated as the fog envelopes his mind.

“Do you, uh, need some help?” Shiv asks, feigning nonchalance, but her body language clearly displays her discomfort at this foreign act of care. Roman too would rather crawl out of skin than accept her offer, but between his body’s uncontrollable shivering and the clouds in his vision, he truly does not see another way. He merely grunts, nodding his head slightly and avoiding eye contact at all costs, and then there’s an arm wrapped around his back. One hand on his waist and the other gripping his arm, Shiv is at his side in an instant. “Alright, up on three, yeah?” He grunts again in agreement. “One, two, three,” the hands around him tighten and Shiv levers his body up as he pushes off of the couch and gets his feet underneath him.

A small groan escapes him as the room swims around him. His eyes are unfocused and his head lolls as he tries to find his equilibrium. “Take it easy, no rush,” Shiv speaks to him incredibly softly, her hands never loosening their grip on him as they begin their unsteady shuffle towards his bedroom. “You can lean on me,” she says, and it’s nearly enough to send Roman into a fresh bout of weeping. Figuring his dignity is long gone at this point, he drapes his arm across Shiv’s shoulders, allowing her to take some of his weight as they round the corner. “You’re okay,” she whispers again, and Roman wonders if it’s for his benefit or her own.

Reaching the edge of his bed, Shiv gently lowers him down to sit before telling him she’ll be right back. As quickly as he can muster, Roman pulls back his sheets and clambers under the covers. If Shiv were to actually tuck him into bed he sincerely thinks he might die. He drops his heavy head onto his pillow and sighs deeply, willing all of this to be one terrible dream. Shiv returns with a glass of water that she places on his nightstand and lingers by his bedside, not too close but not too far.

“Think you’ll make it through the night if I head out?” She asks, only half joking, rattled by the physical weakness displayed by her brother. He clears his throat and nods, “I am sorry by the way,” he gestures lazily with his hand, “for all of this, but especially going ghost on election night.” Shiv shifts on her feet slightly. “Yeah, well don’t be too sorry, at least your boyfriend lost.” Roman groans, rubbing at his eyes again, imagining the earful from Mencken he has waiting for him in his messages.

“Get some sleep,” she says, stepping closer. For the briefest of seconds, her hand runs through his hair and comes to rest on the side of his face. Her thumb rubs away a tear track and suddenly he’s seven years old again. His big sister has come into his room to check on him after one of Dad’s blow ups. He also knows that just like when he was seven, they’ll both pretend like none of this happened come morning.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he stops her before she can fully leave. “About tomorrow, I’ll be there,” he clarifies. Shiv nods, leaning on the doorframe and hand hovering over the light switch. “Good, I’ll see you then.” She switches off the light and grabs the door handle. “And eat something beforehand, yeah?” She almost makes it sound like an afterthought, but they both know. “Bitch,” Roman mutters, rolling onto his side as Shiv shuts the door behind her.

#roman roy #roman roy fanfic #succession #succession fanfic #succession season 4 #shiv roy

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icallhimjoey · 2 years

Note

I really miss Joe in the bookstore 🥺 could you do a drabble (short or long one) of him rushing in after having been away for weeks and there's customers, and Anne's there, but he doesn't care and just scoops you up because he missed you so much? I just need more of them pretty please 😚

oh no, oh no no no, this is dangerous territory to be stepping into Wordcount: 1.1K

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Forty-seven Days

If you didn’t count the text messages, the phone calls, and the facetiming, you hadn’t seen Joe for forty-seven days. Forty-seven days. Had it felt excruciatingly long? Yes. Were you absolutely fine all throughout it? Also, yes. The long periods of time before, where you wouldn’t contact each other at all, had really trained you into managing yourself through missing Joe.

It had also been nice that fans knew he was out of the country, and they stopped coming into the store to solely look for him. Although some of them learned your name and would try to strike up friendships you weren’t interested in, because their motive would obviously be to get closer to Joe, which was awkward. It really took some getting used to, but when your best friend had shown you how some of them would stick up for you online, you stopped worrying about it.

“Anne, could you help me get these up there?” you called out from a corner of the shop, ladder set in place, big cardboard box at your feet and an empty shelf high up above you.

Anne’s responsibilities had grown as she’d dropped out of college. You tried to encourage her to stick with it, but you remembered how much you had wanted to drop out of college when you were her age, so you didn’t berate her. Instead, you offered her more hours, because honestly, having an extra pair of hands just on the weekends wasn’t cutting it anymore.

Anne said goodbye to a customer before stepping around the counter and holding onto the ladder as you climbed up it.

“Can I take one of these?” Anne asked, eyeing the books that were going up as she handed them to you.

“Of course, put one aside.” You’d felt for the longest time you needed to have read every single book you put out in the store, because it meant you could help your customers best. It was nice that now it felt like a shared task with Anne which meant that you were putting more time towards cooking actual nutritious meals – something Joe enjoyed greatly. You know, when he was actually around to enjoy them.

The door opened and a mother walked in with two teenage boys. You both greeted them, and as Anne handed the last couple of books from the box, she made her way over to ask if they needed help.

They didn’t, they’d browse.

You still weren’t sure if Anne’s demeanour was the reason people hardly ever wanted any help from her, but you had to admit that she’d warmed up loads compared to when she’d first started at the store. She’d sometimes even smile – smirk. It was more of a smirk, with sort of an evil glint in her eyes as she did. But if you squinted, you could mistake her for looking friendly.

Anne stepped back to pick up the empty box from the floor and held onto the ladder as you started to descend them, when suddenly the door flew open forcefully, triggering the bell above the door with a bang.

“There she is,”

“Joe?”

You had heard him before you’d seen him, and just as your feet were about to take the last step down, two arms wrapped themselves around your waist and yanked you from the ladder.

“Oh my God, put me down!” you squealed in his arms, very aware that there were customers a couple of steps removed from you, but Joe didn’t care.

When your feet found the floor, Joe turned you in his arms and you didn’t even have time to look at him. His lips found yours fast, and Joe’s hands moved from your waist to your face, cupping and caressing. What could have been a cute welcome home kiss quickly grew deeper, inappropriately so for the time of day, the location you were in and the people you were around. Joe pressed his full body against yours and you fell back against the ladder that you’d just been perched upon seconds earlier. God, you had missed him.

“This is great,” Anne deadpanned sarcastically, still stood next to you. Joe comically placed his full palm over Anne’s face and pushed her away from him, then using both his arms to wrap around you in a tight hug, lips never leaving yours.

Anne could deal with it, you thought. She knew it’d been well over a month since you’d been able to share your affection for each other with her. You swore Joe would some days wait with his kisses or bum pinches until Anne would be around, just because she was so vocal about hating it.

When you felt Joe moving back, you chased his mouth and pulled him back into you by the back of his neck. You weren’t finished.

“These ones? Did you find everything you were looking for?” you heard Anne from behind the counter as she helped the lady who’d stepped in earlier and rung her up for the books she’d picked out.

“I thought you wouldn’t get here until tomorrow?” you spoke whilst Joe’s lips found different spots of you to press kisses into. “I lied,” Joe simply replied, not satisfied with the short absence of the feel of your mouth and getting straight back into it.

You were overcome by how many things you'd missed of Joe, a realisation you were happy to have now that Joe was there. You would've driven yourself mad had you had it earlier. You'd missed the way Joe's hips would press into yours, for one. And the way Joe's breath would hitch and sigh in your kisses. And, perhaps this was your favourite thing, the way you could leave Joe a moaning puddle by scratching your fingertips up the back of his neck into his hair. Doing it then, just to check if it still worked, left Joe moaning loudly into your mouth.

“Honestly, get a fucking room,” Anne spoke from behind the counter. You didn’t even care that she swore before you could hear the door close behind the customers that had just left.

Joe thought Anne’s suggestion was an excellent idea and you felt his hands grip the back of your thighs, hoisting you up in a tight hug around his body. You wrapped your legs around his butt and held onto him for dear life as he started moving towards the backroom. You couldn’t help but giggle into your kisses, and just before you were about to disappear from Anne’s view, you broke from Joe for a second and shouted, “Double-time wage!” at her, as Joe kicked open the door.

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read Like A Poem here read A Lot Like Love here

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The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl @kylakins88 @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks - add yourself

#like a poem #a lot like love #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #forty-seven days #fanfiction #fluff #requested

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the-lavender-room · 12 days

Text

Remember this thing I mentioned

The past week and a half had gone by slowly. Over 250 hours dragged on and on; an eternity of waiting for this moment. Murmurs and whispers fill the late afternoon air. Half-audible words dissolved into a blanket of white noise. The only discernible sounds being the buzz of insects that got too close.

Curt sighed; slouching in the folding chair that was provided. There weren’t that many people here and he doesn’t know them. Curt was alone here, and he’ll be alone for a while. It wasn’t the first funeral he’d been to, but it is the one he was the least prepared for.

Richard, Mary, Carl, and Jamie. His friends, they were all dead. When he first heard of the crash, he didn’t think much of it; he’d heard of many plane crashes before. A few days later they had identified the bodies, and Curt was devastated. They were the only ones who stuck with him since college and they died so soon. It wasn’t fair.

Curt wiped away the tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes.

————————————

Curt almost didn’t notice as people began to clear out; his mind must have wandered off and wasn’t aware of the loss of time. He inhaled sharply, feeling like his body wasn’t able to before. The man stood up, took a second to stretch, and said ’goodbye’ to his dear friends one more time.

He leaned against a lamppost outside the cemetery, waiting to grab a cab home. With the last bit of red at the edge of the horizon fading to a deep purple. He’ll never see his friends again. Not directly at least.

Curt and Martha had been asked to watch over Carl and Jamie’s son, Eddie, before they left for their trip; looks like they’ll be watching him longer than they thought. Martha decided to stay home with him; the sudden death of close family was a very difficult concept for a small child to understand.

Curt watched small moths flutter around the light; one got caught in a web.

A tap on the shoulder got the young man’s attention. Curt turned and saw another man; hair already fading to gray. The man smiled but spoke with a somber tone. “You must be Curt, right? Curt Conners? I’m Ben. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.”

Curt rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Yeah, that’s me…” He recognized the man now; Ben Parker was Richard’s older brother. Richard used to talk about him a lot and had only good things to say. Maybe this conversation won’t be so awkward. “…It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He held out his hand. The older man took it in his own firm, yet gentle, grip. His tone and demeanor seemed friendly enough and Curt relaxed a bit. A nice change from other people Curt has met in… recent years.

The two men easily fell into friendly conversations. They reminisce about their lost friends and family. It felt nice to have a relatively casual conversation with someone other than just Martha. Hopefully, they could stay in contact after this.

—————————————

Time moved too quickly, for once, and before they knew it, a taxi pulled up. Curt jumped in the backseat, but before he could give directions home, the door opened again.

Ben stood in the door for a second, a look of confliction clear on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “I, uh…” whatever the older man had to say was obviously hard for him; it was important. “…You remember Peter?”

“Peter? Yeah, a little bit.” Richard and Mary’s son. Curt ”met” him twice before; only a few weeks after the kid was born, and at his third birthday only months ago. Of course custody of the kid went to his aunt and uncle.

“My wife and I, we’re— I don’t want to pressure you, but… we’re not doing well, financially. Richard trusted you, and I do too…” Curt had a feeling he knew what the older man was trying to ask. He shifted so his full attention was on Ben. “…We don’t want to raise a kid in a bad situation, it’s not fair to him. I don’t want you to feel obligated, but we would appreciate some help, just a little.”

Curt almost couldn’t believe it, Ben Parker was asking him to help take care of his nephew, Richard’s son, his friends’ son.

“Let me talk this over with my wife first” this wasn’t a decision for curt to make on his.

The man sighed and thanked him before closing the door, to the annoyance of the driver. Curt gave directions to his neighborhood and watched as the older got smaller and smaller in the distance.

————————————

Curt had gotten home much later than he would like. With the moon rising high in the sky, and the stars shining brightly; Curt was glad he and Martha called the next few days off.

In the living room, he found the TV set to the menu screen of a kids movie; bright colored dinosaurs smiling.

Martha sat at the end of the couch; a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She stared blankly, not at the tv, but somewhere beyond that Curt couldn’t see. Eddie was on the other end of the couch; too untrusting of the adults to get close, yet not wanting to be left alone.

He rounded the corner and embraced her with a kiss. Her dull, blue eyes looked up at him; finally realizing he was home. “Hm. How’re you feeling?” She sounded tired, and sad.

“Well, I’ve been worse…” He laughed half-heartedly. He sat on the arm of the couch; resting his head against Martha’s. Curt felt mentally and socially exhausted, so he appreciated this small moment before he mentions their ”proposition”.

“Sooo… I met Ben earlier…” Martha looked at him confused. “Richard’s brother.” He clarified. He waited a few minutes before continuing; “…He asked if we could help his nephew, Peter.”

Curt wanted to help, he really did. He knew it was hard for a young couple to take care of a toddler. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be for an older couple, especially with everything going on.

“Well…” she looked down towards her feet. Her grip on the blanket tightened. Curt sat up awkwardly; he looked over at the six year old curled up opposite of them. He couldn’t make his snoring sound faker even if he tried.

“…Well, we do have a third room…” Martha continued. She put her hand on Curt’s. “And I’m sure Eddie will be excited to see his little friend more.”

Curt lit up; nearly slipping off the couch. “And y-y’er sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” She stood, wrapping her arms around him and gave him another kiss. “I miss Richard and Mary as much as you do. I’d love to help my close friends, even if they’re…” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes.

‘they’re gone…’

———-

Let me know if any spelling mistakes, thanks ☺️

#my writing #myart #tssm #the spectacular spider man #tssm curt conners #tssm Martha Conners #tssm eddie brock #tssm peter parker

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chellestrash · 2 years

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Mutual agreement

Frank Castle x Reader// Matt Murdock x Reader

summary: being friends with both Matt and Frank means you have to deal with both of them at the same time on some days…but maybe that’s not so bad?

warnings: nothing much, swearing, implications of smut

word count: 2.5k

A/N: thank you @chelseasdagger for proofreading this and for all the heeeeelp! let me know if you liked it!

The evening after work usually meant relaxing, right? Taking some time for yourself, slowing things down after a busy day, allowing yourself to rest properly after your daily duties. That was obviously your plan for the night but…well let's just put it this way, whoever said plans are there to change them was right. At least when it comes to you, your life and the couple of unusual relationships in it. Intrigued, you get up from the couch quickly at the sound of your doorbell. You'd remember inviting people over, you certainly weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.

"God damn it."

You mumble, grabbing the doorknob before swinging the door open, your body freezes before you can say anything.

"Frank?"

He lifts his head up slightly, looking up at you with a loud grunt, his jaw clenched hard, blood dripping from his head, his face, nose and mouth, hand clutching his side tightly. He doesn’t speak, and you can't, you try to remember, but you don’t know when the last time you’ve seen him in a worst state. His body shakes slightly now and then as he leans to rest against the wall, clearly struggling to step towards you or, from what you could tell, to even take a full breath in.

“Holy shit, Frank.”

It is the only thing you manage to get out before he leans forward, his eyes shut, and his jaw clenched even tighter now. You step closer, reaching your hand up to help him steady himself, he grabs your arm tightly, really tightly. You can feel the way his hand shakes, the way his fingers dig into your skin when he tries to move forward. His lips part with a shaky breath, eyes glossed over as he glances around before finally locking his eyes on yours. Your concerned expression as you try to hold him up is the only thing he remembers before everything goes black.

You didn’t know it was this bad—of course, it could've been worse. He could’ve passed out on his way here, he could've never gotten to you, could be lying in an alley somewhere unable to move to…. You shake your head quickly, trying to push those thoughts away as you finish up stitching his wounds. You know Frank and you know he'd be able to handle all of this awake, but maybe this is better for him. It’ll spare him the additional pain and well, you can imagine he's probably had enough for the night. Working almost from memory now, you wonder how many times you’ve done this before. Clearly enough to know your way around the instruments, to know and understand how to put a man back together, so he can walk, talk and be a pain in your ass all over again. You let out a sigh, tilting your head slightly to look up at Frank’s tired face. Your eyes jump around the many cuts and scratches before you lean forward to take a closer look at the deep, purple bruises slowly forming under his skin.

“Oh, Frank.”

Your voice barely a whisper, as the slow realization of the fact that you can't do much more to help him now weighs heavy in your chest. His condition is stable, his wounds are clean and sewn up neatly. You did as much as you could, and you're aware of that, yet, you somehow still wish you could’ve done more. Resting your head against his forehead, you briefly check his body temperature again before pulling away when you notice him move. Frank lets out a deep sigh, his eyebrows pull together, eyes slowly opening after a deep grunt. He scans the room around him for a moment before slowly turning his head to look over at you kneeling by the side of the couch.

“…hey.”

He mumbles, and you smile softly, squeezing his hand in yours gently for reassurance, your thumb slowly brushing over his bruised knuckles.

“Hey.”

You respond quietly when his gaze finally settles on yours.

“How you feeling, big guy?”

He answers with a quiet sigh followed by a shrug.

“Like shit.”

Looking off to the side for a second, you scoff and shake your head slowly, turning back to look at him with a small smile.

“Good, you can feel the pain, means you're alive.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You watch as he attempts to sit up slightly, pulling his body up with a frown.

“Try not to move much.”

You're quick to rest your hand on his shoulder, he glances down at it and then back up at your face when you slowly move your hand to reach up to his forehead before gently pushing some hair above his eyes away from his face.

“They got you pretty bad this time.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve seen them.”

Frank gives you a satisfied smile after you breathe out a quiet laugh, it's like the fact that he can somehow still make you laugh despite all of this eases up some of the weight he knows he puts on you every time he shows up at that door.

A loud scoff from the kitchen pulls him out of his thoughts before he can let his mind wander off too far. You glance over your shoulder, both you and Frank turning to the direction of the sound.

“Red.”

He mumbles under his breath and Matt nods slowly, acknowledging his presence. He's right there in the doorway leading to your kitchen; his sweatpants low on his waist, chest completely bare exposing the many cuts, scratches, bruises and bandages. Matt got here first, a bit earlier that night. Needed help, just a favor, some patching up and a safe place to stay for the night. That’s exactly what you knew you could offer him, and it’s exactly what you knew you were able to offer Frank as well.

“You feeling any better?”

You direct your question at Matt this time.

“A little, yes…thank you.”

“Okay, good.”

“Why is he here?"

“Same reason as you?”

“Yeah, thanks for the concern, Murdock.”

You turn back at the sound of Frank's voice.

“Don’t thank me, Frank…it wasn’t my idea.”

Matt speaks up before you can say anything, and you roll your eyes with a quiet chuckle at him missing Frank's sarcastic tone completely. Frank glances around your face, not sure what to focus on for a moment, before his eyes finally find yours again. His lips are parted slightly, a softer, gentle expression on his face, he squints as he tilts his head to the side before swallowing hard.

“Yeah, I figured.”

Smiling gently back at him, you finally get off the floor. As you stand next to the couch for another moment, Frank attempts to pull himself up again, but you quickly place your hand on his chest to stop him.

“Rest.”

You order quietly, and he looks away with a deep sigh, but for once, he decides to listen. Walking over to the kitchen, you stop in the doorway, lifting your hand up to Matt’s face.

“How's your head?”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he exhales quietly.

“It's…it's better… It's better now.”

“Good, you should sit down, let that leg rest up some.”

He nods, blinking slowly as he listens to you talk.

“I know.”

You both smile softly at each other, and you let him walk past you in the doorway, limping slightly, as he makes his way over to the living room chair, right next to your couch. If someone asked, you probably couldn't explain this part of your life, or how you managed to get yourself into this. You knew Matt since around college and Frank has been a close friend for a while too, but you never thought those relations would lead into your apartment turning into a safe spot for two wanted vigilantes. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen and the Punisher, together, in your living room. Both of them half naked, bruised, cut up, bleeding and in need of attention on top of everything else. Even if you were going to tell someone about this…you doubt anyone would ever believe you.

“Well…you look like shit.”

Frank's voice makes you look up over the counter.

“Thanks…thanks, Frank, that’s…really helpful, you know?”

Matt answers quickly with a sarcastic smile, his hand brushing over the bandage on his side, his expression changing when he feels the pain again. You catch yourself frowning as you think about his injured rib.

“So what happened?”

Frank asks, this time a bit more…politely?

“Same thing that happened to you.”

You answer his question, leaving the kitchen with two ice packs in your hands.

“He overestimated himself.”

Matt frowns, tilting his head towards you, but before he can say anything, you tap his shoulder to hand him one of the ice packs.

“Here.”

Turning back to Frank, you continue your explanation.

“Called me saying he needed help.”

You continue and watch Matt lift his hands up in a defensive motion.

“Okay, we... we really don't need to go over the details here.”

Matt protests, and you breathe out a little laugh before stepping closer to the chair.

“I know.”

"I got surrounded...okay? They were just..."

You sit down on the arm rest and move closer to inspect the wounds on his head. Running your fingers through his hair, you carefully push it back and away from his forehead before lifting his hand with the ice pack up.

“That feels better?”

You cut him off, trying to stop him from thinking back to the situation from a couple of hours ago, and keep your palm on his for a moment.

“…yeah.”

He turns to you quickly and speaks quietly now, nodding softly with a slow blink and a gentle smile. His eyes look somewhere past you, but you can tell at this moment his thoughts are focused on you.

“Okay.”

You squeeze his hand gently in yours before getting up from the chair and quickly grabbing the second ice pack from the coffee table.

“And one for you.”

You hand it over to Frank and watch him place it on his forehead with a quiet grunt.

“Thank you...for all of this.”

You rest your hand on top of his, moving the ice pack slightly to hold it over the biggest bruise.

“Course. Better?”

A silent nod and a thumbs up are your answer, and you smile to yourself.

“Okay, good. You both need to rest now, and to…just try to slow down for a bit.”

You glance back and forth between both of them, knowing god-damn well neither of them is going to listen. It didn’t bother you much anymore, it used to, it used to quite a bit but not now. Not when you realized there’s simply no way of pulling them away from this, no way to change this significant part of who they are. So instead of becoming another obstacle in their way, you decided to help, to do your best to help in a way you knew you were able to.

“Or at least, if you can't do that, I'm gonna start charging you both rent for the nights.”

You add after a moment and watch them both laugh quietly. Glancing back and forth between Frank and Matt, you think about how bizarre this moment is. How those two very important parts of your life, different yet so similar in a lot of ways, just crashed with each other right here in the small living room of your New York apartment.

“Are…you two like a thing?”

Matt asks out of seemingly nowhere. He’s looking off in the distance, head tilted a bit, eyebrows pulled together as he waits for an answer.

“What?”

Frank's voice drowns out yours when you both react at almost the same time.

“Oh, please. I might be blind, but I could feel the tension between you from the other room.”

He answers quickly. His tone is calm, and the question isn't an accusation, you can tell he's just curious.

"Foggy and I have a bet."

You breathe out a laugh, and Frank scoffs loudly at the explanation. Unsure of how to explain the relationship that formed over time between you and him, you start after a moment of silence.

“I mean…we’re friends, Matt… Frank and I, we’re just.”

You look over at Frank, now sitting up on the couch. He tilts his head to the side slightly, squinting his eyes as he waits for you to answer. His tongue brushes over his top lip before he quickly looks you up and down; his head moving, rocking slightly from side to side, he's waiting to see what you'll come up with.

“Oh, oh, you want to tell him, Castle? Come on, go ahead then.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything.”

“So you are?”

Matt repeats the question, and you swear if you didn’t know he'd catch it in time, you'd throw the TV remote at him.

“No.”

Frank beats you to the answer.

“We’re not… there's no ‘Thing’, alright?”

He explains and you confirm.

“There’s no THING, we’re just…we’re friends. Just…just like you and I. Right? Friends.”

“‘Like You and I’? So you're friends..."

“With benefits.”

They both state at the same exact time, immediately turning to face each other and your eyes open wide before you hide your face in your palms with a loud sigh. The relationship between you and either one of them was never really established. You weren't looking for a partner, you felt good being on your own, enjoyed your own company. The long and complicated stories from your friends about the struggles of being in a relationship and your own previous experiences effectively certified that thought in your head. Neither Frank nor Matt ever claimed for this to be anything serious, anything more, a commitment, and you all seemed okay with that thought. You just never thought you'd have to discuss it with both of them… at the same time.

“Well… I mean, you both need to pay me back somehow…”

You joke as you look back up at them, after a moment.

Frank shrugs with a little pout as he thinks your words over before nodding, and you feel a bit of weight lifting off of your chest.

“Yeah, sounds fair.”

He turns to look at Matt, and your eyes follow.

“…you know what? Yeah.”

Matt agrees with him for the first time tonight, and you chuckle, impressed with the fact that they can somehow hold a normal conversation and not sound like a pair of teenagers trying to fight each other constantly.

"As long as we don't make it like, a three-way thing."

"... Oh, don't tempt me, Castle."

You wink quickly before getting up and walking out of the room, leaving them both with that very specific image, without a chance to protest or argue with you. But to be completely fair, you're not sure if they would, even if you stayed.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #daredevil #the punisher #daredevil x you #the punisher x you #charlie cox #jon bernthal #marvel

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nostalgicfun · 1 year

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When I was little—very little, so little that I was being pulled in a wagon for this story—I was out on a “walk” with my mom, which consisted of me running around at warp speed for half a block and then having to be pulled in a wagon. And at this particular point in the walk, my mom stumbled across something which as an adult is a pretty cool find: someone had left/lost a bunch of little pieces to the game “Cooties” along the road.

Upon seeing this, she said, “Oh, look! Cooties!” and scooped them up to hand them to me.

But I was, again, small and young and inexperienced in the world and all the “Cooties” it had to offer. I had never seen a Cooties game before. In my undeveloped little head, my mom was attempting to hand me a bunch of tiny dismembered limbs. And calling them cooties. I had no idea what was happening. But I did know it was scary, very scary.

I remember crying and shying away and telling my mom I didn’t want to hold them, and the way she doubled down, insisting that I take the cooties. I didn’t have a very good grasp on mortality at this point in life but was aware that people were capable of being killed, and was convinced those cooties would give me actual cooties and that I’d die. So I covered my eyes and hid at the back of the wagon.

The fact I would not take these tiny, dirty little game pieces she found along the road enraged my mother, for whatever reason, and I was scolded (loudly) and she refused to talk to me the rest of the way home, having declared that I would have to sit in the “time out chair” (my dad’s La-Z-Boy recliner) until my dad got home from work so he could punish me.

Of course both my parents being mad at me was always the end of the world.

It was about an hour and a half until my dad got home and I remember thinking he was going to make me touch the cooties and I’d die and be one of those zombies from “my Link game” (which is obviously what happens when someone dies). He came home, and I heard them exchanging words in the kitchen, and then he came into his dark office where I waited in his chair and turned on the lamp.

“I heard you weren’t good on a walk with your mom today. What did you do?” I remember him asking sternly. I then proceeded to bawl. I don’t remember my wording but I did tell him about the cooties and how they were scary and I didn’t want to touch them.

My dad’s face remains etched into my memory forever as if carved there in stone. This king of bikers, this military man with what seemed like a million deployments, trying to figure out what to do with his four year old daughter who was afraid of some dirty board game pieces her mom was trying to make her hold.

He just said “okay then” and hugged me. I don’t remember what he said after, but basically that I wasn’t in trouble and to go play for a bit before dinner. I remember hearing him go into the kitchen and say “WHAT is your problem” to my mom, which looking back at this now as an adult is a good reaction that entire scenario.

The next day he came home from work with a “Cooties” game.

#talking #stories #blogging #cooties #my relationship with my dad is so weird #I always make the joke ''have you ever been abandoned by the same dad three times''#but it wasn't until like two months ago that I realized other than him leaving I have no actual bad memories of him ever #he was always nice to me and the only person to never say a single mean thing to me. he did so much for me #to this day he always compliments me and calls me the princess and tries to be a good dad and I feel guilty for all the years I resented him #and set the standard for the kind of love and protection I seek now as an adult

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sluttyercobra · 1 year

Text

Honeymoon - Thomas Raggi x reader

I am finally back, sorry for the long time it took me to write this one, hope you will enjoy anyway.

Requested ? Yes, hope you ll enjoy :)

Prompt: 16 (gentle sex), f (nipple play), 😀 “You are so pretty”

Words: 2500+

Warnings: making out, oral (male receiving), nipple play, slow sex, cream pie. It is also a bit short and there are repetitions sorry about it, I will try to fix that this week

Plot: Thomas and the reader have gentle sex during their honeymoon (sorry I think you wanted it to be the first time having sex during their honeymoon and I kinda forget, so it is implied that it is not, but I hope you'll like it anyway)

My requests are still open, you can request anything from the prompt list or any idea you have :)

I am also still working on the dry humping request, but I really struggle to find a way leading him to dry hump reader if you have an idea, feel free to tell me please, I would obviously give you credit

You stepped out of the rented house shower, a towel loosely wrapped around your body and made your way to the bedroom. Thomas was still laying naked on the bed, seemingly resting, and you smiled at the view. You quietly looked for a bathing suit since your plan was to spend the afternoon at the beach You lost yourself in your thoughts, you really could see yourself living in Kiribati, the weather was nice, the nature was beyond believable, and the people were incredibly interesting and nice, the food was so tasteful… Plus, no one seemed to care about who your husband was, helping him to relax and escape fully from his daily life. If only you could just leave your job behind to spend your days surfing, snorkeling, and helping the locals to preserve the fauna and flora, you would in a heartbeat. It was Thomas who convinced you to go there for your honeymoon, and it was probably one of the best ideas he ever had.

You jumped a bit when a pair of arms wrapped itself around you, the towel landing on the floor. Thomas smirked at this and bury his head into your neck. Before he could say what was on his mind, you walked to the bed with him still draped around you. You didn’t need to see his face to know that he was smiling brightly, reading this boy's mind was so easy.

In the bed, you snuggled against your guitarist, your back pressed against his chest. Your action was rewarded by a burst of happy laughter that echoed through your body. This sound alone was enough to make you content for the rest of your life, you were sad for all the people who couldn’t hear it and experience what true and pure beauty was. He kissed the top of your head and this time around you were the one to giggle, perfectly aware that he was getting high from the scent of your shampoo, as he would say. He liked it so much that he had bought a mini bottle for when he was away to have a little part of you with him. It was associated with the first time you had fallen asleep on him. You weren’t dating at the time, you were just two friends loving each other but unable to see the reciprocity. You were coming back from a night out, driving back home with some friends. You were in the back of the car, Thomas next to you, lulled by the movement of the auto on the road. You were so sleepy that you didn’t remember resting your head on Thomas’ shoulder. He spent all ride lost in the smell of your shampoo, imagining how it would be to wash your hair during a shared shower, to play with your hair when you were stressed, to tangle in long fingers in them as you were riding him… that the moment he decided that he had to act on his feelings to turn those dreams into something concrete.

You slowly moved to place yourself chest to chest. You wanted nothing more than to observe your boyfriend's beautiful, blissful visage. The sun highlighted the fine hair of his torso, and you can't help but pressed a kiss there. You adored his body hair so much, they contrasted so much with his pale, milky skin. You deemed Thomas as a man of contrast, he had such a feminine grace while having manly manners, his features were soft while angular, and he was delicate but masculine. This duality attracted you like a magnet, you could spend hours just looking at him, noting mentally all of those little oppositions, how his range of beauty was unique and playing on every field.

There was nothing remotely sexual in your kiss, you just needed his velvety, fleecy skin against your lips. His chest moved up and down against your mouth, and you were soon mesmerized. If Thomas noticed how your breath rhythm was now matching his, he said nothing, he simply repositioned you, so his upper torso was pressed against your breast. You were conscious of how this latter was moving in synch with his exhalation. This moment of intimacy is mirthful. It is just another proof you were just made for each other. You sometimes wish you could melt into one for simply an instant to become one.

His fingers were running along your body, shivers erupted at his touch, such a Pavlovian reaction you internally realized. It was craving for his every contact, expressing without words how pleased you were. He slowly made his way to your face to brush the hair falling in your eyes away. His eyes were fixed on your face, the love and passion you could read in them made you wish you could see yourself through his mind. You never felt more beautiful and strong than when he was gazing at you, you were shining with the love he was giving you. He brought his fingers closer to your forehead, you expected him to massage your temples, but instead, he started to draw some letters, and you peeked at him curiously wondering was he was writing.

And he laughed at your pout when you had understood. You would have nudged him, but your current position prevented it. You stuck your tongue out, not having a better reply, and his laughter deepened. This sound was worth all the teasing in the world.

“Your tongue would look better in my mouth though” he beamed at you, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“That is the worst way to ask someone for a kiss”

“Maybe but my theory is that it is still efficient on my resplendent wife” his tone was rather serious, imitating a professor as his lips ghosted over your forehead, cheeks, and nose… he eventually reached your lips and pecked them softly several times. You were longing for more, the lust appearing clearly in your eyes. You were about to press your lips firmly to his, but he stopped you just to tease: “thank you for just proving my theory, I thought it would be harder”

“Only worked cause you bribed me with sweet words and kisses.” you dramatically sighed before your lips greedily met his. His hand directly went to cup your ass, and he nibbled on your lips. This was one of his favorite things to do while kissing, the way your breath rhythm would immediately change was enthralling. Thomas's free hand went to your face, it was his unconscious way to signal you to open your mouth to allow him entry. It was a part of his charm, no matter how much time you have been dating, he was always giving you clues of what he wanted but letting you decide. No matter how passionate or horny he felt, he would always put a hand on your visage before a kiss, letting you time to step back if needed. You quickly opened your mouth, craving to deepen the kiss already, and his tongue slipped past your lips. You knew everything single fibber of his mouth, but anytime you made out, you rediscovered it. Your tongues are dancing together, and you almost forgot to breathe. It is another habit of yours, it is not deliberate, you are just both too absorbed by the other to remember the vitality of something as trivial as oxygen. As you reluctantly let go of the other, you moved to straddle your husband, and he helped you by grasping onto your hips. You can feel his hardening dick against your hot skin, and you would have joked about it if you weren’t already so turn on.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and you deposed a kiss there as lust interlaced his eyes. He whined softly, and you grinned widely at him before positioning yourself between his thighs. He swallowed even more sharply than before. He could hear the loud lub dub of his heartbeat and wondered if you could too. He was aware that his body was physically showing you how excited he was, but he contemplated if his heart was now too. You gently kissed the tip of his hard, long cock, and he purred in satisfaction. You then licked the underside of his dick, the veins pulsing against your tongue. Thomas’ breath got shakier at this, you could list all the things that would bring him pleasure quickly. Sure, teasing him was an option, but you were on your honeymoon just aiming at giving each other relief at any given moment, just seeing pure bliss being written on each other faces. You eventually dived to take him fully in your mouth, the grip you had on his thigh helping you to swallow every inch. You let the blonde intertwine his fingers with your hair, he didn’t grip them, resisting the urge to fuck your so perfectly warm and wet mouth because he was in the mood for something sweet. You bobbed your head a few times and re-angled yourself to let his penis hit the back of your throat. His free hand grabbed the bedsheets and was slowly but surely starting to lose control. His cock was twitching, his lower abdomen was tensed, and you could visualize his chest moving quicker as he was inhaling and exhaling more and more regularly. You hollowed your mouth to do precisely what he enjoyed, and he bucked his hips in response, which made you moan. That sound echo through his body and he rolled his eyes in pleasure. A few seconds later his stance wavered once more, and he climaxed inside your mouth, certainly not his first nor his last orgasm of the day. You simply swallowed his spill and he eyed you, a flush brightening his cheeks. He brought you closer again and kissed you with passion. He could taste himself, but he didn’t mind, he just loved you too much, and he was so grateful that you were OK with him finishing in your mouth. It was always such a turn-on to watch you giving him your best innocent look, cum filling your mouth, he felt so privileged.

“You are so pretty, stellina mia” he whispered as his hands were stroking your flank. “But you will look even prettier when you come” he murmured to himself, his right hand pressed against your breast. Your breath hitched as he squeezed your left boob and your body shivered. You could read the seriousness on his face, he was more than determined to have you moan his name, and you smirked at his antics. It was adorable how important your pleasure was to him, how he would do anything he can to have you delightfully chant your delectation, how earnest he was when your contentment was the matter. He caressed your already hard nipple, and you gasped, the contrast of the roughness of his fingers against your sensible skin triggering an instant reply from you. He examines your features as he gave the same treatment to your other nipple and hummed as you closed your eyes in satisfaction. He never pulled his gaze away from your face, drinking on the soft sounds escaping your mouth. He knew your body better than any partition he ever wrote, so much that he could have you moan without looking at what he was doing. He then cupped and squeezed both of your breasts simultaneously, massaging them, a bit rougher than he was previously. You felt yourself go wetter than you were, and you sighed. He finally looked at your chest and the envy empowered him, he lowered his head to kiss you in between your boobs. He smiled against your flesh as he heard the thunder in your heart. His mouth traveled to your right breast and his hot tongue swirled against your nipple while he nipped the other. The pit in your stomach was growing with more intensity with each lick, bit, caress, or pinch. He liked the taste of your skin in his mouth, how his cavity was perfectly designed to engulf your nipple, the tenderness of the skin against his teasing tongue. He dragged his teeth against the hard bud, and you started to tremble. He tried to observe your face contorted itself in pleasure under his bang, not wishing to miss anything of the show you were putting on for him. It was a rare occurrence to have you orgasm just from nipple play, but he didn’t doubt that your body was so sensible due to the previous climax of the day, even the holiday, that he had played a role. When you were coming down from your high, he engulfed your body in his, kissing your forehead.

He trailed pecks down your face to your lips, where he languorously kissed you. It was not as heated as previously, he was slow in his movement. He wasn’t in a rush as he idly let his fingers run along your warm skin. He savored the goosebumps erupting at his every gesture. Your own hand was trailing down his chest toward his bulge, and you noticed how he bit down his lips in anticipation. Before you could reach it, he stopped his own movement, fingers lingering on your thigh, drumming in rhythm with his breath. You teasingly stroked his erection, trailing butterfly kisses along his abdomen and lower stomach. Thomas could only groan in response. He gave you his best puppy look and you couldn’t resist him. You lost no time and straddle him ready to ride him. You sank on his cock and the small pain of stretching rapidly turned into bliss as he put one hand on your hips to tenderly guide your tempo. His other hand went to cup your ass, he just loved to grab onto it. Your rhythm was lazy, never being fast or rough, but it was magical. You could feel his breath on your neck, his hair tingling your shoulder, your nipples against his torso sending shivers down your spine. He suddenly pulled your head back to expose your neck even more and gritted his teeth along it. You could only hear the sound of wet skin as your next thrust, a particularly accurate one, liberated a strangled moan from your guitarist. Your bodies were damp and stuck to one another, the smell of sex, cigarette, and him was filling your nostrils. Though this perfume would gross out anyone else, you wish it would never leave you. You rolled your hips as lust and passion were brawling into you. Your husband's once small gasps had turned into grunts and moans. You lightly bited down his earlobe and he cursed in Italian under his breath, this latter becoming more and more labored. Electric shocks flowed through you both as you gradually increased your speed. His dick was pulsing against your tightening walls. You placed your hands on his cheeks as your climax was building itself up. You kissed him messily, but you didn’t care, all you needed at that moment was the other. “I love you, I really do love you” he panted as he released himself inside you. After a couple more thrusts, you joined him in ecstasy.“I love you too” you managed to babble in between moans. It wasn’t the most earth-shattering orgasm of your life, but it was just right, just what you were craving, loving and exquisite.

He helped you to lift yourself off of him, and he hugged you tight against him. His head was resting against the nape of your neck, and you laughed in joy. You turned a bit to face him, and he stared, no words could describe the love, awe, and beauty encapsulated by this gaze. He grinned, and you remained like this a few minutes more.

#thomas raggi #thomas raggi fic #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi x you #maneskin #måneskin

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