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pedros-mustache · 1 year

Text

good thing

word count: ~4k

warnings: smut (18+ only). also: established relationship, angst, non-planned pregnancy, implied sex-for-pay, age gap, language, x fem!reader

a/n: idk you guys. he is—as my middle schoolers would say—Him. it was bound to happen that i would write a pregnancy fic about this man. i will admit that i am weirdly nervous about sharing this fic so please be kind, friends✨🤗

“How long have you known?”

“Long enough.”

“Whose?”

“Not yours.”

The room falls quiet, swollen with the ugly reality of your revelation. Your heart hangs in your chest. A clock on the shelf ticks each miserable second he does not respond.

Joel drums his fingers on the faded arm of the couch, his face blanketed by an unreadable shroud. He stares out the window, and you know he is thinking—wondering—calculating—when this happened. You cannot tell if he is hurt or angry or merely confused, but you can tell he is running the numbers. Running the myriad of possibilities of how you got knocked up under his watch. You could tell him—spill your slimy secrets on the creaking apartment floor like a parishioner at confession—but what good would that do? What would that change? Truth revealed or not, the fact remains:

You are pregnant, and whatever is blossoming between you and Joel, whatever tender flower has broken through cracked soil to find the light of day, the baby is not his. More than that, this development, this situation, marks the end of your budding connection. That glittering future you once saw with him, the future of safety and security at his side? Snipped at the bud, crushed beneath the heel of practicality. You can go no further. Not with him.

Across the apartment, the girl—Ellie—shuffles side to side. You glance at her over your shoulder and watch a wave of discomfort twist her smooth features. You sigh, dropping your arms from their position crossed over your chest.

“Come on, Joel. Now isn’t the time to ask questions. When Tess gets back with the guns, you and her have got to get Ellie out of here.”

Maybe it is something in your resolute tone of voice, or maybe it is reality crashing landing at his feet, but your comment breaks Joel’s attention from the window. He stands, his jaw tight, his brow furrowed. He faces you, and that unreadable shroud falls from his face. He is angry, that much is clear.

He points to the apartment door. “Out.”

The blood in your veins slows, turned sluggish with the weight of your sudden anxiety. “What?” you breathe.

Shaking his head, his free hand comes to rest on his hip. You know the stance: he does it every time you insist on sharing tea in the morning or rubbing the tension from his sore muscles. He’s irritated, but not outraged. That alone is a reassuring sign.

“Not you. Her.” He gestures to Ellie. “Go wait in the hall.”

You start to protest. FEDRA on the move, Fireflies dispersed, night coming quickly—time is wasting. There’s no time for you and him and figuring this out, if that is what he wants. That ship has sailed and sunk beneath a bitter ocean of what-could-have-beens. There is only time for here and now and getting the fuck out of Dodge.

“Joel, I don’t—”

But his face softens as it so rarely ever does. He pulls his stare from the girl and turns his brown eyes—those damn puppy dog eyes—on you, and you are helpless. “Please,” he whispers.

The clock on the shelf ticks louder. Maybe you can steal a few minutes...

Without turning to face Ellie, you cock your head at the door in a silent dismissal. She releases an annoyed huff, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath about fucking adults before slamming the door behind her.

“Delightful child,” you murmur.

“She could save us all.”

Scoffing, you press your palms to the chipped table in the center of the apartment. The wood veneer is smooth, cool to the touch. It soothes your racing heart, even if only for a moment. “You’re starting to sound like Tess.”

Joel remains quiet—perhaps thoughtful, maybe biding his time—but his fixed stare carves gaping holes in the side of your head. You can feel him rooting through your mind like a scavenger. He is wondering when you slipped away long enough, when you found the time. He is replaying the moments in the market when you spoke to any other man and held his gaze for too long. He sifts through your shared memories with frantic fingers, and you can feel him—you know him well enough—to sense the panic swirling in his chest.

But for the first time in the three years you have known him, you do not have it in you to quiet the storm in his mind. You have your own tempest to battle.

Finally, he speaks. “You gonna look at me?”

The slow, deep timbre of Joel’s voice catches you off guard. You expected anger, shouting, frustration that boils over into rage. But Joel has always been gentle with you. Beneath the brusk of necessity, he is a true Southern gentleman. Just like his mama raised him. And even now, standing on the edge of the crumbling cliff where you have placed yourself, he treats you with nothing but respect.

God, you could love him. You really could. If only things were different.

You look away from the table and find him a step closer. Not close enough to touch. He is too angry for that; it is written in the shadow on his brow. But he is close enough that you can see the concern etched in the lines on his face. His frown is not at you, it is for you, and that makes looking at him all the harder.

“When did this happen?”

You shrug, eyes skittering to the floor. “I told you. It doesn’t matter. The details don’t matter.”

“Don’t they?” He has both hands on his hips now, his head tilted as he tries to catch your wandering gaze. “Come on, girl. Answer me. You owe me that.”

He’s right: you do owe him. You owe him so many times over it is impossible to count. Still, if he knew—if he truly knew... There would be no hope of repairing the damage you would cause. You would only split the torn earth on which you stand wider. The crumbling cliff would give way, and you would fall to your doom.

He reaches out. His fingers skim the rough hem of your flannel, his flannel. “Tell me, baby.” Those three words, choked out and brittle with desperation, snap your resolve in two.

You will lay your cards on the table, spread yourself across the sacrificial altar, bear your soul. For him—always for him.

Inhaling, you stand straight, bracing your socked-feet on the floor. You meet his eyes. If you’re going to go down for the decisions of your past, you’ll do it with your chin held high. Your father didn’t raise a quitter.

“Remember that battery, the one for the radio? The boots, the jacket?”

Joel nods. “For my birthday.”

You nod. “For your birthday.”

He holds your unwavering stare. The clock ticks: tick, tick, tick. Understanding rises like a slow tide over his face. You can’t bear to watch it. You look away. Shame gnaws at your stomach like a hungry wolf, and you press a hand to your belly.

“You didn’t—” He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth curling. “You didn’t have to...”

“I wanted to. For you.” Something catches in your throat. You circle the table, placing the furniture between his growing emotion and your growing regret. Fuck, you should have just stayed quiet. “So you could have one good thing.”

“But now you’re—”

“Pregnant.”

Tearing a hand through his hair, Joel twists. He faces the door, and you wonder if he is dreaming of escape just like you. You wonder if he is dreaming of a world where doves still fly and babies live past six months and men and women can afford to build a life together.

He presses a closed fist to his mouth. Light bounces off the cracked face of his wrist watch. “What are you going to do?”

You answer without hesitation. “Keep it.”

His neck turns so fast you swear you hear it crack. You would joke about his age if the situation weren’t so dire. Two nights ago you joked that he is old enough to be your uncle, maybe even your dad; he fucked you good when you said that, just to prove you wrong. That levity feels far away now, impossible to grasp should you even dare try.

“The likelihood of survival—”

“Is slim. For me and the baby, I know. But I’ve thought about it. Hell, I’ve even prayed about it. And I—” You blink away the warm tears rising to blur your vision. “I want this.”

“Why?”

Why? What a simple question. What a loaded answer. You don’t know where to begin. But he looks at you with such earnestness, such a craving to understand, that you have to at least try.

“I want a husband,” you say. When he frowns in confusion, you push onward, the words rising to your tongue like a sermon. “I want a child and a home. A life I can build and call my own. I may never have a husband or a true home, but with this child, no matter how it came to be…” You give a pitiful shrug of your shoulders. “I need something more, Joel. Something more than simply living to die.”

After a moment, when your words have settled like dust on a crowded roadway, Joel motions to your stomach. He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Can—can I?”

“Yes.” You release the word on a stolen breath.

Rounding the table, Joel keeps his focus glued to your abdomen. His chest rises and falls, deep inhale after shallow exhale. He stands before you, a giant amongst men, his fingers shaking as he unbuttons the three lower buttons of his flannel. He brushes the fabric aside, and when your stomach is bare before him, he swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs as though he, too, feels a lump lodged in his throat. He smooths the palm of his hand over the slight bump at your womb. Barely there, blink and you miss it, but unmistakable once noticed.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see,” he murmurs. His thumb massages your ever-stretching skin, back and forth, back and forth. His warm breath fans your face as his forehead comes to rest against yours.

“Because you didn’t want to.”

You pass your fingers through the graying hair at his temples and study the way his eyelashes fan his cheekbones. Little moments, you think, to be tucked away in your heart once this is all over and he is gone.

“When Kate was pregnant, I knew. Sarah... I could feel her...”

Your chin trembles, your fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know... I know...”

“A baby. In this world. I can’t remember the last time I—”

Without warning, he cuts his own thought short and slowly lowers himself to his knees. He presses one hand to the small of your back, the other still massaging the bump of your stomach. You hold your breath as he leans forward and touches your bump with his forehead. He whispers something, something you cannot hear and you suspect is not for you, and then he is standing. He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and when you meet his eyes, you see the world.

“Sugar, you are my good thing.”

I wanted to. For you. So you could have one good thing.

His words—your words—ring loud in your ear, and you choke on a sob as he lowers his mouth to yours. He kisses you like the rain kisses dry land. You are parched, cracked and withered from the fear of this moment, but with his touch, he waters your aching heart. He is eager, holding you close, cradling your jaw with the wide expanse of his hand. Never before, not in the year of sharing his bed, has he kissed you with such devotion coating his lips. You could drown in it.

You tear your mouth away long enough to look over your shoulder. The door to the apartment remains shut, a measly separation between you and the outside world. “The girl—”

Joel shakes his head, already working on the remaining buttons of your flannel. “She doesn’t matter.” He kisses your neck, once, twice, creating a wet trail to your earlobe. “Not right now.”

“Okay.” You turn back to him, your face softening as you catch his dark eyes.

He nudges your nose with the end of his own. “Okay.”

Words dissipate. Like fresh dew beneath the morning sun, the need for talking disappears under the weight of all that is and was and could be. There is nothing more to say—not aloud, not right now—but there is much, oh so much, your body can say for you.

You kiss Joel with a fierceness you have not felt since the first time he laid his hands upon you. You are desperate for him, desperate to tell him just why you did what you did, and how much you need him, want him, fuck—maybe even love him. You part your lips to allow him access, and you cling to his arms, your nails biting the flesh beneath his denim shirt. He hisses when you bite his lower lip, the hand still resting in the small of your back pushing you closer to his warmth. You tangle your arms around his shoulders, holding him closer, closer, as close as he can get without forcing him to merge into your own skin.

With a quiet grunt, he fists his hand in the hair at the back of your head and wrenches to the side. You gasp, eyes widening as he flattens his tongue against your pulse point. He sucks your skin, biting gently, before releasing your neck with a wet pop. You whimper—even as he takes your chin in his fingers again and seals his mouth to yours.

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink fully into the kiss. You do not know what the future holds or what will become of you and the child within. All you know is that here, in the now, in the present, Joel kisses you, and sweeps his tongue across your tongue, and runs his hand down the inside of your jeans to cup your ass. And for right now, in the here and the present, you are okay and you are safe and the risk of being with him is worth the reward.

He squeezes the flesh of your ass again, and you shake yourself free of any wayward thinking. Just him—just you—just now.

“Pretty girl,” he whispers against your lips. “Mine.”

You nod, and through laboring breaths, you confirm what has always been the truth. “Yours.”

It is a backwards, lopsided dance to the only bed in the apartment. He collapses to the edge, and you straddle his thigh as you kiss him. His broad hands run the course of your body, up and down, front and back. He massages your breasts through the paltry fabric you call a bra, pausing long enough to tweak a nipple hard enough you whine. He chuckles, leans forward, sucks the offended nub through the covering. You go to shrug off his flannel, but Joel stops you with a hand to your arm.

“No.” His eyes roam from your face to your shoulders to your peaked nipples and finally, the swollen womb above your center. “Keep it on.”

He leans back on his palms as you unclasp your bra and toss it to the floor. The zipper of his jeans strains against his growing erection. You peel your underwear off and face him with a smirk.

“You’re overdressed.”

He tilts his head in acknowledgment. “Maybe.”

“We should fix that.”

He waves his hand in invitation. “Be my guest.”

Biting your lower lip to conceal a grin, you pounce, zealous for him as much as he is for you. His clothes come off in quick succession until you are both naked save for his flannel hanging loose around your shoulders. He pauses then, a second, maybe two, his hand poised against the side of your neck. His eyes dart between yours, his lips parted, words he dare not say resting on the tip of his tongue.

“I know, baby.” You put one hand on his shoulder, his warm, tan skin a comfort against the chill in the room. You reach out and grip his hard cock with your opposite hand, and when he winces in pleasure, you brush your knuckles over the hair on his jaw. “I know.”

Joel allows you to stroke him, a rare occurrence in your repertoire of fucks. What is normally a frenzied connection in the dark, moments stolen before the light of day brings reality crashing back, is turned slow by the knowledge that things are different now. Things cannot be as they once were, no matter what the future may bring. So you stroke his cock, spit in your hand, and stroke it faster. Up and down, until he is pulsing in your hand and weeping from the tip. He drops to his back on the bed, his face buried in his hands as you touch him.

But then you pull away.

Joel removes his hands from his face. He stares at you, a flash of annoyance brightening his eyes. “What—”

“Shh.” You plant both hands on his sturdy chest as you swing your leg over his hips. “Walls are thin.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you run your dripping warmth over his tip. You hover above him, eyes rolling back in your head as you tease yourself. Sparks of pleasure radiate through your body, and you grit your teeth to keep from moaning. Joel grabs your hips, but he does not force you down. No, he waits until you are ready. He waits until you position his cock at your entrance and begin the slow descent to heavenly madness.

You suck in a deep breath as his cock stretches you open. He fits snug in your core, like he was crafted just for you. When you have adjusted to his girth, you move your hands to grip his arms. You shift your knees, lifting your hips up before descending again. Over and over, a smooth, unchanging rhythm.

You are in no hurry to find release. For once this fuck is more than finding a shot of pleasure amidst the cruel darkness of the world. You want this to last and you want this to feel good. You need this imprinted upon your mind, locked in the secret place of your heart.

But you and he both can only take the slowness for so long.

Joel soon resumes his position of dominance, as is custom when his need builds. You allow it because you crave it. His breadth and strength and command shields you from danger in the outside world, but you crave it in bed too, when you can allow that breadth and strength and command to slam the fear from your mind.

He slides an arm around your waist and flips you to your back, keeping you snug beneath him. He gives a few experimental thrusts before he kisses you—softly, a tender hello before the war that is sure to come. He leans back and exposes your body to the yellow light of the room. He trails his hand down your sweaty chest. His fingers dance over your bump, hovering there as if in prayer, before finding your swollen clit. You gasp, hips lifting upward, as he rubs you in circle after circle. He brings you to the edge before pulling away and gripping your shins with his hands. He pushes forward, and you are bent in half, completely at his mercy.

Holding your knees to your chest, he picks up the pace. He plows into you, teeth gritted, lips pulled back in a snarl. He watches his rigid length split you apart, thrust after thrust. On some level, you know he is staking his claim. He drives into you with such force, with such feral carnality, you know there is some part of him that just wants to mark his territory. Reclaim what is rightfully his. You let him because it is true. You belong to him, Joel Miller, not the man who planted his seed in you and walked away. Always and forever—his—your purpose.

You slap your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out in delicious agony. You feel stretched and full and electric all at once.

“That’s it.” Joel releases your shins but presses his chest to your legs. Your hips lift, swallowing him to the hilt. “Take me—fuckin’—good.”

The pressure in your core builds. Light dances at the fringes of your touch. You close your eyes, latching on to the feeling.

Leaning back, Joel swats your hip. “Open your eyes.” He withdraws his cock far enough to slam into you with more force, his tip angled against your most sensitive spot. “Look at me.” He swats your ass again.

Dutifully, you peel your eyes open. You look at him—into his eyes, his soul—as he fucks you.

You burst like the skin of a ripe grape. It is violent, sudden, earth-shattering. You convulse beneath him, and the tremors wracking your frame are enough to send him over the edge. He grabs the curve of your waist with one hand, lurching forward to catch himself on his forearm above your head. He swallows his groan of pleasure, managing to barely release a muffled whimper. His warmth oozes from your core and stains the bed sheets beneath.

He remains tucked inside of you until you are forced to push him away. A cramp in your leg demands attention, and you rub the blasted muscle until the pain has subsided. You return to his side, to his sweaty body, to his arm that slips beneath his flannel and lays beneath your back. He rolls to his side to face you.

The truth of your situation looms like a storm cloud at the edge of the room. He can see it; you can see it. You must acknowledge it before the here and now is upon you and you have no plan with which to fight it.

“What are we gonna do?” You hold his forearm, thumb brushing the bone of his wrist. His hand is warm and heavy on your cheek, his eyes married to yours.

He does not hesitate. “I’ll keep you safe. Both of you. All of you.” He smooths the sweat-plastered hair away from your face. “I promise.”

You nod because Joel Miller always keeps his promises. Whatever he says is true.

He relaxes his hold on your face as he shifts onto his back. His eyes flutter shut, his breathing even. You glance at him and the evening light that cuts his face in angular shadows.

“Hey, Joel?”

He opens one eye, peers at you in expectation.

You smile—softly, a tender hello before the war that is sure to come. “You’re my good thing, too.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #hbo the last of us

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muddyorbsblr · 2 months

Text

the warmest bed i've ever known

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few days after 'when the feeling sinks in'

Summary: Tom has convinced you to go back to London with him for a few weeks, and a photo of you two out and about together has opinions firing left and right.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings (spoilers ahead): language; big hater behavior towards Reader; attempted breakup; angst; brief mentions of past bullying [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Tomathy fully in his comforting precious bf era

Numb.

That was the only word that came to mind right now to describe what you felt, staring at your screen with all the hateful vile words that people who didn't even know you were flinging your way. And all because of the man you were dating. And how much you looked like a downgrade compared to his ex.

Then again it really shouldn't have surprised you, considering the turn your life had taken in the last few months. Hell, the last few days. There was really no other way for these nameless faceless spineless people to react when the man you'd started dating was none other than Tom Hiddleston.

And the figuratively ridiculously large shoes you had to fill considering the rising power of said ex…was Taylor Swift's.

You shouldn't have gone online. Checked Twitter. Checked anything, really. They rarely if ever had anything good to say, it was a special kind of stupid and naive for you to think that someway somehow you and your relationship were going to be the exception to the vitriolic rule.

Now here you were, screechy voices filling your mind, spitting out the words that your eyes scanned when you opened the cesspool of a sight.

Nothing special

Unremarkable

Fucking stab my eyes out with a rusty fork ugly

To be completely fair, you'd seen worse when you were still in school, every day inundated with the mocking words that sociopaths with hormones on overdrive wielded recklessly like a goddamn balisong without care that the person on the receiving end was actually a person. And if that was the shitshow you experienced from people brave enough to sign those sentiments with their name and say it to your face with chests fully puffed out, then the bravery of these people when they were all snuggled up under the protective cover of anonymity really shouldn't have shocked you.

Finding out who they were behind the screen and dealing out retribution on your own terms would have been a simple enough task. After all, you'd done it before, and even with the current advancements in technology and the tighter security protocols centered around protecting user data, you still managed to keep a few tricks in your bag that you could whip out if the need ever arose.

There was just one thing that stopped you from doing just that. A part of you agreed with the vicious comments. It was easy enough to ignore when people in school were just making hateful pages about how you sucked and how no one would ever genuinely like you. Or when they made pages pretending to be you so that they could dole out their paltry attempts at trying to ruin what little reputation you had at the time.

When you dealt with them on that comparatively smaller scale, it became easy to numb yourself to their words, drown them out until they were just white noise in the background, keeping you focused on the path you laid out for yourself rather than distracting you. It gave you a drive to work harder and better so that you could get as far away from them as possible.

On this scale, the background noise was so strong, so loud and overwhelming that every step you took to fight it seemed to take every ounce of your strength. It felt like there was no way out. You couldn't just hunker down and work hard so that you could get away from it all this time. And you couldn't exactly ignore them, either.

How could you? When they were voicing with pinpoint accuracy every insecurity that plagued you ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend a few days ago. Ever since your first night with him months ago.

So is this some sort of Make-A-Wish thing? That's it, right? She's on her last few months and she wanted to live them in delusion?

Fifty bucks says Tom's active on Raya right now. Quick someone send me an invite link I wanna shoot my shot. Tommy don't worry baby I'll save you from whatever the fuck mistake you got yourself into.

How the fuck do you go from Taylor Swift to that?

The most prevalent remarks in the last few hours had to do with a sighting of you sitting on a park bench, working on creating a wardrobe piece for an upcoming show that, if all went well, would start filming in a few years. The book author and the prospective showrunner got in contact with you after a glowing recommendation from Taika, and they talked about struggling to find the perfect scarf that would serve as one of the series' focal points.

After a few discussions and so many skeins of yarn that there was now an oversized tote bag in your hotel room overflowing with various shades of dark teal and peacock blue, you started crocheting a sample size of the pattern to show the author later on in the afternoon before you went to meet Tom for dinner. And that was how you were spotted this morning, sitting quietly on the bench, eyes on your project while your boyfriend was taking Bobby for a walk.

And for some reason the internet was up in arms over that,

Are you really fucking telling me this boring ass bitch that's giving old lady crocheting a goddamn scarf is fucking riding the God of Mischief every day? Nuh uh nope I don't believe that. Our Tommy deserves someone fun, and actually fucking pays attention to him and not a ball of yarn. Our baby deserves so much better than this.

You stared at the desk in front of you, your sample scarf to the left, and your laptop at the center, the screen now black from inactivity. You couldn't bother to move to check the time; your reminder would ring when your call would start. All you could bring yourself to do was remain exactly as you were, knees drawn to your chest with your arms around your legs, shaking and doing your damnedest not to break out into sobs over the knowledge of what you were about to do as soon as the door opened.

It was a good run, you told yourself. More than I deserved.

The sound of the front door opening jolted you back to reality, the voices finally dying down somewhat. Unfortunately, hearing Tom's voice started the voices right back up again.

"Y/N, darling, have you finished with your call? I was hoping we could go out tonight for dinner and--" His words stopped abruptly once he got to his study, seeing you in the position you'd been in for the last few hours, and immediately rushed to your side, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What's wrong, goddess?"

"I uhh…I have to go back to Los Angeles. I'm gonna see if I can make the next flight back." You didn't dare meet his eyes, still trying to hold back any tears.

He let out a breath, sounding almost relieved before he pressed a kiss to your hands. "That shouldn't be much of a problem, I can pack a bag and we can be on the next flight out--"

"No," you cut him off, wincing at your tone. "I'm going alone. There's no need for you to go with me, I'm sure you have some other things to do here. Better things."

There was a slight tremor in his hand as he cupped your face, gently turning your head to look at him. He took a shuddering breath seeing the tears swimming in your eyes. "What's happening right now, sweetheart? Please. I don't understand what could have brought this on, we had a lovely morning--"

"I thought I could do this," you choked out, finding it difficult to form coherent words without starting to blubber. "I thought I could drown the voices out, not let them get to me but…they're too loud. They're ruthless and vile and they have megaphones and they're right." You shook your head to turn away from him, burying your face between your knees, the all too familiar feeling of shame flooding your system, shrouding over you like an overly weighted blanket. "I'm not strong enough to do this with you. And you deserve someone better than me."

You took your laptop off of Standby, your screen illuminating and showing him the harsh words that had been haunting you since you stupidly decided to check the internet just minutes after he left the house. He began to visibly tense as his eyes scanned the pages seeing all the hateful things literal strangers had to say about your relationship.

"Look we gave it a shot," you tried to tell him, making a motion to get out of the chair which made him put his hands on the armrests, effectively keeping you in place. "But I think it's time to call it. I'm not good for you, and you deserve someone--"

"No." His tone was low and resolute, hands staying firmly on the chair, refusing to let you go anywhere. From a certain perspective, it was a smart enough move, considering that if he let you go right now, you'd probably sprint out the door in the name of doing what you thought would be best for him. Even if it meant ripping your own heart out in the process. "This can't be over already, we've only just begun. The time I've had with you has been extraordinary and I know that if we keep going, it'll get even better. You've made me so happy and--"

"You'll find someone that makes you happier," you dumbly shot back, the sentiment hitting you so hard that the tears finally began to fall. Even the thought of him potentially moving on so quickly after this already had you ready to sob. "Someone stronger. Someone that can handle all of this or hell someone they'll actually like--"

"Those people don't care for my happiness," he said in a rush, tears filling his eyes as well. "No matter what I do, there's always going to be someone hateful that has something to say, and they'll always think they're right. It's so clear that they don't give a damn about what actually makes me happy because if they did, they wouldn't be saying these disgusting lies about you, trying to get into your head."

There was a desperation in his tone that tore at your heart; no part of you wanted to do this. But seeing every single insecurity that you'd had ever since you said yes to being his girlfriend, yes to going to London with him for a few weeks, and generally just yes to spending the next few however months of your life with him, all laid out in print echoed by so many others? You knew he deserved better than this, better than someone that would ultimately have to be hidden away so that these people would stop coming for his throat for his 'poor choices'.

And when you knew that what would be best for the man you ached to give your heart to was to actually tuck your heart away and run, how selfish would it be for you to do the opposite?

The feel of his hands framing your face brought you back to your thoughts, the frantic pleading look on his face robbing you of your breath. "Do you want to leave, Y/N?" You wanted to scream No of course I don't, I want to stay with you. But you found yourself unable to form words. All you could do was shake your head as more tears fell from your eyes.

He pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his arms the second you crossed your hands behind his neck and lifting you out of your seat. He didn't break the kiss until he'd carried you to his bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed. Then he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before sinking to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Then don't leave. Stay with me. We'll stay in and stay away from prying eyes so nobody gets to say anything about you, we'll--"

"You shouldn't have to make adjustments in your life for the sake of making me comfortable," you argued. "You should be with someone that can face all of this, not cower in a corner licking her wounds needing to be protected if she so much as gets seen stepping out of your house like some tiny helpless baby animal. You deserve to be with someone you can share everything with, without the worry of people shooting you down just because I'm not pretty enough or tall enough for them. You can have anything and everything you want with a snap of your fingers, I'm sure it won't be that hard to find someone that--"

Tom stopped you from letting out another word, holding you by the back of your head and pulling you to him for a desperate kiss. "I don't want anyone else, I want you. I don't give a fuck what anyone else wants to think about how I choose to spend my life and who I choose to share it with, because I know better. You're enough, you're more than enough. And if a few precautions and adjustments have to be made to make sure they can't get to you, then I'm more than happy to do all that and more.

"Our first night together I told you I just want you. As you are. That I want to make you happy." He rose from his knees, pressing a kiss to your cheek and working his way to your ear. "That I want to satisfy you. Do you remember?" You could only nod, trying and failing not to melt against him as he kissed below your ear. "I'm going to add that list of wants now. I want to make sure you feel safe, with every means I have at my disposal."

He guided you down until your back was flat on the mattress, kissing down your neck as he did so, his lips trailing a path down to just over your heart. You found it near impossible to breathe, finding yourself overwhelmed with how gentle and tender he was handling you.

"I want to love you," he said, meeting your eyes with a look that you could only describe as surrender. "I know you're not ready to hear it yet, but this can't wait anymore. You need to hear it. You need to know that the only way for me to actually have everything that I want is if I get to share everything I have with you. I need you to know that your leaving would rip my heart out." He made his way back up, stopping when your faces were mere inches apart. "I need you to know who you'd be leaving." He brushed his lips across yours in a featherlight kiss. "You would be leaving a man so completely, so desperately in love with you."

You tried to speak, but all you could manage was inaudibly mouthing his name, the sentiment you tried to stomp down just a little over a week ago fighting its way back up to the surface. Practically shouting from the back of your throat.

"I love you," he breathed out. "Please, sweetheart. Don't do this. Don't leave. Whatever you want, whatever you need so that we can make this work, we'll find our way through this together just please…I'm begging you don't tell me that what you want is to rid yourself of me--"

"That's the last thing I want," you managed to choke out, your eyes stinging with even more tears. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mustering every ounce of strength you had left to finally say the sentiment you prematurely blurted out when he first popped up at your house. "I love you, too."

You woke up the next morning the same way you'd been ever since you and Tom first got together, his arm wrapped around you, the butterflies fluttering violently in your stomach from how he held your body against his without a stitch of clothing between you two, along with the tender kisses he peppered along your shoulder. It was a routine you'd not only found yourself getting comfortable with, but you were looking forward to it whenever you felt yourself rousing from sleep.

And that part scared the living daylights out of you.

Relationships? Routines? Your mind wandering to that place that you said you never dared think about in the context of being in any kind of relationship again, because the last time you did, the rug got pulled out from under you and threw your life and the future you envisioned into a blender?

You swore to yourself that day all those years ago that you were never going to let yourself get this comfortable. That you would always have your safety measures in place so that you never had to worry about having to scramble your way back up to your feet without any sense of direction.

And you did. You had your measures. You had your walls up. You put your heart under lock and key and said you'd never give it to someone again. Yet here you were, basically opening the chest and telling Tom that it was right there for the taking.

A chest you couldn't close again even if you tried. Even if you wanted to.

The feel of his lips pressing a kiss between your neck and shoulder had you letting out a tiny whimper, making him smile and hum against your skin. "Good morning, goddess."

You were growing concerningly comfortable with that, too.

He moved you until you were lying with your back flat on the mattress, brushing his nose across yours as he gave you a contented smile. "I love you."

You couldn't help the smile that stretched across your own face hearing the words. "Hmm…careful, you keep talking like that I might get used to it."

He laid his lips on yours, giving you a tender kiss as he gently ran his hand down the side of your body before stopping at your hip, his thumb stroking your skin. "I want you to get used to it, because I'll be saying it a lot from now on." His lips traced a line down to the base of your throat. "I love you," he murmured against your skin repeatedly as he kissed along your collarbone.

"I love you, too," you whimpered as he kissed his way down to your stomach, his shaky exhale warming your skin even more. You placed your hand on his shoulder, leading him to refocus his attention to kissing his way up your arm. "I really stepped on the ledge yesterday…" you trailed off, struggling to take a deep breath as you tried to find the words, ultimately settling on the simplest ones. You weren't likely to find better words anyways. "Thank you for talking me off of it."

He took his time kissing his way back up to your lips, never breaking eye contact. "Always, my love." The new endearment, paired with the way he tenderly kissed your lips, had your head spinning. "I'm going out to get us some breakfast. I'll be back in an hour. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Those words had you stirring, making a motion to sit up on the bed. "What? No, you don't need to do that, you'll get papped. Gimme a few minutes to get dressed, I'll do it."

"If you go out, they'll photograph you, too," he argued. "Pictures of us are still fresh on their minds, which means these vultures are still very much on the lookout for you out and about, waiting to take pictures in hopes of selling them to the sleaziest gossip sites. Give it a week, maybe two, and they'll refocus their attention on someone else. Them and the internet."

You slumped back into the bed with a soft thud, surrendering to the fact that unfortunately, the logic made sense. You needed a good few days to let your face and those photos fade into relative irrelevancy. "You probably need your team to spin some story on why we were seen together, too," you sighed, the discomfort of having to let the wheels turn in your head before you've even had a bite of food or a sip of coffee starting to make you skittish. "I mean, the saying goes that we can't put the genie back in the bottle, but what if it isn't fully out yet? We still have a chance to…I don't know, mitigate the situation?"

Tom rested his forehead against yours, letting out a deep sigh as he laid back down on the bed as well, pulling you into his arms so that your head rested on his chest. "One day it won't be this toxic."

His words had you giggling, looking up at him and pressing a kiss to his chin. "It's adorable that you think that, but no. But one day maybe the voices of those who would genuinely just be happy for you would be louder than these snakes in the pit with their megaphones. And maybe one day I'll be strong enough to not give a fuck about any of it."

He tightened his hold on you, arms snaking around your body in an embrace that had you falling even more into that dangerous place of way too damn comfortable. "Until then I'm going to do what I can to keep you safe. It'll only be a few weeks at most. Maybe less if we're lucky and someone causes a scandal." He pressed numerous soft kisses to the tip of your nose, breaking out into a smile when his attentions caused you to let out a soft giggle. "For now, I get to keep you in the house. All to myself." His smile turned into a mischievous grin as he rolled you on to your back, rasping the next words, "Like my own beautiful brilliant little captive."

"A very willing captive," you shot back, once again going breathless when he started kissing you all over your neck and chest. "Be careful out there? Don't let them get a reaction out of you, no matter what they ask. Or what they say about me."

"I will," he mumbled, humming against your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along the side of your body, nipping at your waist before pulling away. He made his way to his closet, shooting a playful knowing glance at you when he saw how you propped yourself up on your elbows to enjoy the view. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he chuckled, throwing on his usual running gear of a black t-shirt with the Legendary logo and black shorts that were definitely a size too small with how the garment hugged and accentuated his hips and upper thighs. Not to mention how those shorts made it all too obvious that your boyfriend happily and proudly chooses neither when it came to the age-old debate of boxers or briefs.

He walked back toward the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning over you to capture your lips in a heated kiss, as if it had been weeks since he'd done it last rather than mere minutes. His hand freely roamed your side, lightly grasping at your hips while he slowly laid you back down flat on the bed. Once he had, he broke the kiss to press his lips to the tip of your nose, then to your forehead.

"I'll wake you when I'm back home. Promise me you won't check on those pages again. None of them deserve our time, or our emotions. I love you, goddess."

"I promise. I love you, too."

A/N: Welcome to the second part of the 'said it first' arc! This would probably be the angstiest moment in their entire relationship and precious bf meow meow really answered her "I'm leaving" with "No ur not I love u 🥺" and we love him for it your honor

Three more parts to this arc and hopefully I can pull myself out of playing my lil games long enough to actually get to writing any of the pieces in my rotation 😅🫡

Here's a gif for everyone who reads 'til the end of the post…this be what the blorbos were like in that last scene:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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callsign-venus · 5 months

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I'll Be Home for Christmas | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Description: With Bradley on deployment, you don't find the Christmas season as cheery as usual. The Daggers make it their mission to help you get into the holiday spirit. Cue intensely competitive gingerbread house decorating competition.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Fluff with a teeny dash of angst. Drinking. That’s pretty much it. Really just self-indulgent, friendship-heavy fluff with lots of pining. Enjoy x

Nat King Cole’s voice dances out of your record player has you put the finishing touches on your cranberry Aperol spritzes. Their cherry warm color makes you smile despite yourself.

You have always loved Christmas, but this year it hits you like a truck – and not even one with a tree strapped on top. All the little traditions that usually warm your heart with holiday cheer feel just plain sad to do alone. You had a tremendous battle with your artificial tree, which fell on you twice. You were proud of yourself for not crying, and in the end you were able to admire all of its eight feet of glory. Then you remembered you had to light the whole thing. Two hours later, you had undone no less than three tangles of light strands, found out two of them were dead (and all your untangling had been for nothing), and had one big cry fest for yourself. Not even a steaming cup of cocoa made you feel better after that disaster.

Wrapping presents for your friends and family, rewatching all your favorite Christmas movies, and driving around rich people neighborhoods to admire their lights hadn’t gone as poorly, but they all made his absence grow harder to ignore.

When Bradley told you his deployment would last through the holidays, you struggled to keep your disappointment to yourself, though you’re sure he could see it shining in your eyes. As much as you would miss him during the holidays, you knew it was worse for him, with only emails and skype calls for comfort – no silly little Christmas rituals to occupy his mind.

“You need help in here?” Natasha’s voice jolts you out of your pity-party spiral.

“No, I just got distracted,” you say, scooping up two of the spritzes and offering her one. “Let’s get this party started.”

Phoenix smiles and accepts your cocktail. She herself had just gotten back from her own deployment, and pretty immediately sensed your holiday ennui. She was the one who suggested this festive evening, and you’ve never been more grateful for her friendship.

While you were listless in the kitchen, she had assembled the most perfect gingerbread house making station you’d ever seen: frosting packed into several near-bursting bags, candy canes arranged in perfect rows, gumdrops with a shimmering dusting of sugar, and a scattering of gingerbread roofs and walls waiting patiently to be dressed.

“Wow, Nat, this looks great.”

“Thank you. I’m sure the boys will mess it up in three seconds flat, but at least you appreciate it.”

As if on cue, your front door bursts open, and a clot of merrily dressed sailors spills into your home, arms stacked with presents for Secret Santa. You point to the open space under the Christmas tree, and quickly your and Natasha’s presents are joined by all the others.

After the presents are unloaded, you and Phoenix are engulfed in hugs. Fanboy is wearing a Santa hat, and he has two in hand that he passes to you and Phoenix, insisting that you put them on right now. You happily oblige, as you’re inching closer to how you usually feel during the holidays now that you’re surrounded by friends. Even Jake is cheery, having rocked up in an ugly Christmas sweater covered with bows and tinsel, which is bizarre yet comforting. You do your best not to think about the person you wish was here most, as the Daggers seem dead set to help you have a great Christmas despite his absence.

“This is for you, our gracious host.” Bob hands you a potted poinsettia. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“It’s really no problem,” you insist as you place the flowers on the side table by your couch. “I love you all.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Still, we’re a lot, I know.”

He’s not wrong – Coyote and Payback have already found the spritzes and Fanboy’s popped three gumdrops into his mouth – but you don’t mind. Even when the gingerbread house decorating competition starts. Calling it a competition might be an understatement. The Daggers are more than competitive, especially about inconsequential things. Nobody speaks as they draft their houses in bright white icing and stud them with decorative candies. The only way to get them to quiet is through arts and crafts, you muse as you decorate your house with swirls of icing like snow drifts and tiny snowflakes dotting the roof and walls.

The sabotage begins early, when Hangman reaches for a bowl of peppermints and not-so-subtly brushes his hand over Phoenix's roof, smearing the frosting.

“Hey asshole,” Natasha says. “That’s my house.”

“Oh really? Looks like you got a little smear there.” Jake slides a finger across Phoenix’s carefully piped shingles, messing up her roof even more.

“You’re a dead man, Seresin.” Nat narrows her eyes. She won’t go for Jake’s gingerbread house, she’ll bide her time. You’re glad you’re not Hangman right now.

“Got anymore spritzes?” Coyote asks you.

You nod your head. “In the kitchen, help yourself.”

When Coyote gets up to refill his glass, Fanboy snatches his piping bag and swaps it for his almost empty one. While Fanboy’s distracted, Payback helps himself to the pile of Twizzlers Fanboy’s been hoarding since the beginning of the competition.

“Who is even going to judge these?” You ask almost absentmindedly as you stand a gingerbread couple together at the door of their house with copious amounts of frosting. “We all know whose house is whose.”

There’s a smattering of laughter.

“We’ll figure it out after Secret Santa,” Nat assures you as she completes the retiling of her roof, the eaves perfectly punctuated with peppermints.

Before you can question the logic of that solution, Bob asks for your opinion on colored versus strictly green and red gum drops.

“Hey, no helping the competition,” Fanboy complains.

“What?” You level a heavy gaze on him. “Scared you won’t win if Bob and I combine forces? I would be.”

“I’m just saying, this should be a fair contest,” he says.

You shrug him off and answer Bob, but in the spirit of sabotage, you neglect to tell him about the frosting dried on his cheek.

Even though you’re risking your gingerbread house’s safety, once you’ve finished, you slip into the hall. You refresh your inbox on your phone, and you smile as you see an email from Bradley.

Subject: Miss you

Hey pretty girl. Been missing you all day today. Wish I was there to hang stockings and give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen. Don’t forget to hang it – you can leave it up until I get back. Don’t have a lot of time, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you and I can’t wait to come home to you.

Your heart flutters, as it always does when you get an email from him. You quickly type out a response.

Subject: Miss you more

Hey hot stuff. I’ve already hung the mistletoe and have no plans to take it down until you make me see stars under it. I miss doing holiday things with you (you really know how to wrangle the tree), but Nat especially has been helping me through it. Still, I really miss you. All I need is your arms around me and everything will feel right again. Can’t wait to see you again.

You press send and sigh. You never want to complain – it’s Bradley who had to live on an aircraft carrier for months at a time – but sometimes it feels so unfair for two people to be so in love and yet spend the holidays all alone.

You give yourself a moment to collect yourself before you go back to the increasingly hostile competition. Jake has icing in his hair – you know Phoenix is responsible, but her wrath won’t end there – and Payback’s house had a giant fist-sized crater in the roof. Surely unrelated, Coyote’s knuckles are dusted with gingerbread crumbs. You couldn’t help the smile the chaotic scene pulled from you. Especially since your gingerbread house remains in pristine condition.

You thank Nat for watching over it, and she responds with a bright smile. “No problem, I can’t have the boys messing up your Christmas celebration.”

“Hey!” All the boys except Bob protest in unison. Phoenix raises her brows, point proven.

Once all of the gingerbread houses are complete and aligned in a row like a candied neighborhood block, the party shifts toward the Christmas tree. Bob distributes presents to each of you. Yours is an envelope, and you know it is from Nat. Your name is written on the thick, cream paper in Nat’s graceful script, which you know like your own after years of friendship.

“No one can beat my present,” Nat boasts as she catches you studying the envelope.

“Oh we’ll see,” Coyote says.

You swallow down a little lump, seeing everyone around the tree without Rooster. Though you love and appreciate your friends, the emptiness of his presence is almost smothering.

Your mood warms when Jake volunteers to go first. You’re his Secret Santa, and just as you predicted, he loves the smartphone-controlled paper airplane you got for him. He opens it and has it folded in a matter of seconds. He syncs it to his phone, and his first flight ends with the plane crashing into Coyote’s head.

“Durable.” Hangman remarks as he picks up the paper airplane, which holds its shape just fine.

“Asshole.” Coyote replies.

Payback is next, and he gets a bottle of scotch from Jake. You don’t know much about scotch, but from Payback’s reaction, you can tell it’s a really nice bottle.

Coyote gets Bob a navy Aran sweater, which Bob wastes no time throwing on.

“Feel how soft!” Bob says as he smothers Coyote in a hug. Cue three minutes of Bob inviting everyone to touch his sweater – you can’t blame him, though, it is really soft.

Bob’s gift to Coyote makes you wonder how Nat is going to top it. Bob made a crochet version of Taffy, Coyote’s miniature pinscher.

“Thank you, I love it.” Coyote cradles the crocheted dog tight, and you wonder if you’re just imagining the tremble in his voice or if he’s actually about to cry.

“Come on Javy,” Jake says, “don’t go all soft now.”

Fanboy gets a countertop pizza oven from Payback, which instantly becomes one of his most prized possessions based on the sheer amount of pizza he consumes.

“Thanks, man.” He gives Payback a friendly punch on the arm. “You all have to come over for pizza night.”

You all hum in agreement. Fanboy’s pizzas are amazing, and you wouldn’t mind spending another night with everyone together. Well, almost everyone. You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Phoenix opens her gift from Fanboy slowly, as if she’s afraid of its contents. She peels back the shiny green paper to reveal a charcuterie board and a set of cheese knives with wooden handles that match the board. She hugs it close to her chest and mouths thank you across the room to Fanboy, who doesn’t notice because he’s reading the pizza recipe included with his oven.

Finally it is your turn. All eyes in the room land on you, strangely sober despite the freely flowing spritzes. You give Phoenix a quick glance as you slide a finger under the flap of the envelope, but her expression is unreadable.

“It's a…” you say as your fingers graze a satiny band of fabric. “Blindfold?”

You hold it up for everyone to see. Everyone’s expressions are carefully arranged to not convey anything. Not quite the laughter you were expecting. A sense of uneasiness blooms in your stomach.

Nat stands up and takes the blindfold out of your hands. Quicker than you can think, she’s tying it around your head.

“What is going on?” You ask.

She finishes the bow and pats your shoulder. “Just you wait.”

A few suppressed snickers fill the room and make your uneasiness melt into dread. The gentle shush of a door opening and closing makes it worse.

“I swear, if you guys are ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas-ing’ me right now I will be so angry.”

The silence that falls after you speak is so, so loud. No one turned the record, so even Nat King Cole is quiet. But then you hear it. It’s hard to explain, but you’d know that breathing anywhere. You’d spent many nights falling asleep to that gentle lullaby or hearing it as he held you close in the kitchen, neither of you caring that dinner was burning on the stove.

You rip off the blindfold, and there he is. Bradley. Bradley. Standing next to your Christmas tree, a bow tied around his chest. The Daggers surround him like magician’s assistants, all their hands raised in a sort of ta-da manner.

You leap off the couch and into his waiting arms. He smells like an aircraft carrier and shitty coffee, his clothes rough and government-issued, and his hair cropped a little too close to his head than you know he likes – but he’s yours. He’s yours in the way his embrace consumes you, blurring the line between you and him, erasing the months and miles of distance between the two of you. He’s yours in the way the beat of his heart drums in rhythm with your own. Yours in the way that you are his as well. He lifts you up so your feet dance in the air, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

He sets you down and crashes his lips into yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth unabashedly, and despite your audience, you let him. The kiss is long enough that you start to feel bad for everyone else, so you sheepishly pull away.

“Goddamn, Rooster,” Hangman says, “let the girl breathe.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves the comment away.

But you don’t want to breathe. Not if your other option is to kiss Bradley until you’re both oxygen starved. Because you’re starved for him, need to feed on his presence.

Then the realization sets in. Rooster is supposed to be deployed for another month. You wheel around to face Nat. “How the hell did you do this?”

She shrugs. “Loverboy emailed me last week, just after I got home from my deployment. Said he was coming home earlier than expected, and he wanted to surprise you.”

“Wait, so all of you knew?” You pointedly look at everyone, but nobody can quite keep eye contact with you.

Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. “They all did pretty good keeping it under wraps, huh?”

“I would hope so, given our clearance levels,” Jake says.

Everyone laughs, but you’re still reeling. You can’t believe Bradley is here. His calloused fingers rubbing the skin of your back, just under the hem of your shirt. His gentle laugh reverberating against your body, reminding you what wholeness feels like. His lips, slightly chapped (with none of your chapstick to steal on the carrier), murmuring into your hair. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know what he means nonetheless.

You’d imagined Bradley’s homecoming as a flurry of ripped clothes, bruising kisses, and mutual insatiable hunger, but this is better. All of your friends in the same room, sharing in this festive homecoming, looking like absolute dorks. Fanboy’s Santa hat sits askew on his head. Payback and Coyote are obviously drunk off their asses (they definitely pregamed the festivities, as Payback has been reduced to giggles and Coyote has actual tears streaming down his face). Jake has yet to realize the frosting in his hair, Bob the frosting on his face. And Natasha is a dork by association. You and Bradley too. But the overwhelming love in the room makes you want to sob happy tears.

Bradley happily indulges you all in judging the gingerbread houses. He gets down to eye level with each entry, runs his fingers along the roofs, occasionally snaps off a piece of candy and pops it in his mouth.

“Very good job, everyone.” He speaks to the group as if you’re all kindergartners, reveling in the building anticipation. There’s never a prize for Dagger competitions, but there doesn’t need to be. Bragging rights is all they need, no matter how menial the situation.

Bradley carefully reshuffles the houses in order from last to first place. Fanbody. Jake. Payback. Coyote. Nat. He purposefully shields first and second place. Only you and Bob are left – maybe the least competitive people in the room – and still, tension is thick in the air.

“And the winner…” Bradley’s voice booms like an old-fashioned gameshow host, “...is…”

He finally slides to the side to reveal your house sitting in first place.

Bob sticks his hand up for a high five. Your hands collide with a solid thunk.

“Not fair,” Fanboy protests. “Rooster’s obviously biased.”

“Come on, he didn’t know whose house was whose,” Phoenix says. “Besides, you weren’t even in the top five, and Payback had a hole in his roof.”

“It’s ok, Nat,” you voice oozes with fake sympathy. “I’d be upset too if I spent so much time on a shit gingerbread house.”

Fanboy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh you want to play that game?”

He lunges around the table, and you immediately grab Bradley to use as a human shield.

“Lots of talk from someone who’s gonna hide behind her boyfriend,” he says teasingly.

“I’m not hiding.” You tighten your grip on Bradley’s waist, his hands covering yours. “You can get to me, you’re just gonna have to get through him first.”

Bradley puffs out his chest. “Nobody disparages the gingerbread contest queen. She earned her title by being the best.”

Later, because he can’t keep a secret from you (the only thing that saved the Secret Santa surprise was only being able to communicate through email), Bradley confesses that he knew which house was yours the moment he saw it. But still, that one little detail doesn’t negate the fact that you are the gingerbread contest queen.

And Bradley defends your honor well as you maneuver him from behind to keep a distance between yourself and Fanboy. Eventually, Bob steps in to broker a peace deal to end the conflict. Somehow, you are roped in for bringing more spritzes to Fanboy’s pizza night, but he can no longer dispute the fact that you have the best gingerbread house. A win is a win, and your gloating privileges remain.

Later, when everyone is winding down and glancing at their coats hanging by the door, Bradley pulls you into the kitchen.

“Honey, I think our guests are about to leave.” You try to move back toward the living room, but Bradley keeps hold of your hand. “Please, let’s not be rude.”

He shakes his head. “They’ll understand. They know. They know exactly what it's like.”

You relent because he’s right. Even you don’t know what it’s like. Loneliness has been a long lingering companion of yours, but you suffer her presence at home surrounded by close comforts and your parents a short drive away. For Bradley, for Nat, for Jake, for Bob and all the rest, it’s different. It’s their job. They suffer loneliness with mostly long shifts and shitty food for company.

So you let Bradley chase out his – and your – loneliness in the kitchen. As he pulls you ever closer, his palms flattening you against him, you wonder how you ever survived apart when it was so clear that your souls were really just one.

You break away panting. God knows how long you were indulging, but you just about jump out of your skin when you realize Phoenix is in the kitchen right behind you, pouring herself a glass of champagne.

Your cheeks warm. “Nat!”

“Sorry, didn’t bother me, so I didn’t want to bother you.” She shrugs. “Want a glass?”

You decline, and you and Bradley shuffle out of the kitchen like teenagers caught in the act. Nearly everyone is shrugging their coats on, chatting about the night, when they catch sight of the two of you.

“Now, just where in the hell did y’all run off to?” Jake prods.

You can’t even look at them.

“Just the kitchen,” Rooster says, locking his hand in yours. “Needed to make sure the champagne was still flowing.”

Everyone shares the same knowing look that makes you want to shove them all out the door. Instead, you and Bradley post up at the door like perfect hosts and thank everyone for coming as they slip into the surprisingly chilly night. Then, only you, Bradley, and Phoenix are left.

While everyone was saying their goodbyes, she was sipping her champagne and quietly wiping sugar, gingerbread crumbs, and crusted frosting off the dining table.

“You bitch,” you say as you swoop in to help her clean up. “How come you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out?”

She laughs and takes another sip of wine. “Why don’t you ask Rooster?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. He sheepishly grins.

“In my defense,” he says, “it was a really good surprise.”

“I can’t believe you two.” You laugh. “But thank you for the surprise. It was wonderful.”

You try to direct your gratitude to them both, but something in Rooster’s expression snags your gaze and won’t let go. There’s still an unsatiated hunger heavy in his eyes.

Nat sets down her now empty glass. “Alright, lovebirds, I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

She gathers her things, and you walk her to the door.

“Thank you.” You give her a hug. Neither of you are super touchy, but your gratitude for her tonight is almost endless. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” She squeezes you tight before letting go. “Goodnight, Rooster!”

“Goodnight!” He calls from somewhere deep in the house.

“Sounds like he’s waiting for you,” she winks. “See you soon.”

“Get home safe!”

And with that, it’s just the two of you. You expect Bradley to pounce the second the door closes, but he doesn’t appear as you linger by the doorway. Odd. You check the kitchen, living room, and dining room. All empty.

“Bradley?” You call.

“Right here.”

His response floats from down the hallway, from your bedroom.

And sure enough, there he stands in the doorway. Right under the mistletoe you hung up earlier in the week, the biggest grin on your face when you pictured his homecoming some time after New Years, all the Christmas decorations gone except the lonely mistletoe, waiting patiently for his arrival. But now, you can put the mistletoe to good use while Christmas is still bright on the horizon. The warmth of the season bleeds into the warmth of your kiss. Christmas will come as surely as it would have if Bradley was on deployment, but now you welcome it. You want lazy days sipping eggnog and baking cookies. You want late, festive nights at the Hard Deck with the Daggers, getting into pool competitions with Bradley as your loyal teammate despite how disastrous you are at pool, assured in his easy we-lose-together attitude. You want a Christmas morning with presents that don’t matter because the best gift you could ask for has already appeared right by your tree tonight, wrapped in a bow.

“Don’t leave me ever again,” you whisper against his chest.

“I won’t,” he says, “I won’t.”

You both know it’s not something you can ask of him, not a promise he can keep. It’s not fair to either of you to pretend like this will be his last homecoming, the last time you both are starved of each other for months. But right now, it feels good to pretend.

You can’t think long about his future deployments, however. Your worries melt away as Bradley makes good on his promise to give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff

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albatmobile · 4 months

Note

I need another fic where jayroy x reader is in the league for… reasons 🫣

I also now need this 😫

the other fic (x)

a conundrum of redheaded proportions

next: [2] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 4k includes: misunderstandings, confessions, selectively mute!reader, blow jobs, vaginal sex, deep throating, praise kink, spitroasting, begging, lots of smut y'all ur welcome, voyeurism, jealousy, Justice league AU

𓅪 previous hookup fem!reader x jason todd, eventual fem!reader x roy harper, eventual fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

my Hero OC! Cardinal comes from this series: tumblr [1] [2] | ao3

It's a well-known fact amongst The League that you like redheads.

From your first fling with Wally, drunken kiss with Kori, to your summer romance with Kate and that one-time thing with Jason back when his locks were more fiery than his personality, you’ve always seemed to gravitate towards red.

Hell, he’d even heard rumors that you’d been in a threesome with Babs and Artemis on your mission to Themyscira a summer or so ago.

What Roy can’t figure out is why you’ve never even talked to him let alone looked at him.

Is he a defective redhead or something?

Just approach her, they said.

Just introduce yourself, they said.

Well, he’s fucking tried.

You aren’t one to talk in uniform and only the redheads in the league, excluding Roy, know what you look like underneath your infamous, skin-tight burgundy vinyl.

And then, there you are.

Right in front of him.

Roy doesn’t realize his breath’s stopped until his head begins to feel faint and he’s forced to gulp in air desperately like Spongebob in that one episode.

And then you’re walking toward him.

Jason shifts beside him, but Roy’s more focused on you.

Your hips sway hypnotically with each purposeful step you take closer, pulling Roy deeper into your unforgiving trance.

Your hand makes a tiny wave, so tiny Roy’s sure if he blinked he’d miss it, right at him.

No fucking way.

Roy’s hand shoots up with a nervous wave back that stills as soon as you shoot him a questioning head tilt. He hears the leather of Jason’s jacket shift from behind him and looks just in time to see his friend finish waving at you.

Roy isn’t salty.

“There’s no way she’s hot under that shit,” He mutters lowly to his friend once you’ve passed by.

Roy’s salty.

“I fucked her,” Jason says the statement like it’s an actual response and not just a blatant brag.

“Yeah,” Roy huffs, focusing back on packing up his gym bag, “so?”

“So,” Jason quirks a knowing brow. “You dissing my taste in women?”

“No!” Roy cries out, then slumps back against the locker room bench with a groan. “Is there something wrong with me, Jay? Am I the ugly one?”

“What does your mug being a mess have to do with her?”

Jason’s never had a quiet voice. His baritone growl always demanded attention whether he meant it to or not. Unfortunately for Roy, this time it seems to have attracted your attention because your usual confident gate stutters just slightly enough for Roy to take notice.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Roy smacks Jason in the arm, yelping slightly when he retaliates with full force.

“Jesus, dude. You tryin’ to kill me, or something?” Roy groans.

“You tryin’ to offend me, or something?” Jason mocks him.

Roy finishes zipping up his bag with a dramatic zip and huff. “Course not. Sorry, Jaybird.”

Another quick hit to Roy’s already undoubtedly bruised arm.

“Not here,” Jason’s nose wrinkles easily at the offending nickname.

Roy watches as he looks towards all the hidden cameras in the room, something they’d both mapped out within the first few days of being welcomed aboard the Watchtower.

“For sure,” Roy nods distractedly as he catches a glimpse of Barry’s outfit and briefly mistakes it for you. “Sorry, I‘m just out of it today.”

“So I see,” Jason raises an easy brow.

“Nothing gets passed you now, eh?” Roy tries to joke but Jason only returns him with a knowing, read: asshole-ish, look like he’s already figured Roy out and, hell, he probably has. He catches a whiff of his uniform and winces, picking distastefully at the fabric on the chest of his sweaty Arsenal getup. “Fuck off, man. Let’s just eat so we can get the fuck out of these monkey suits.”

𓅪𓅪

The cafeteria is nearly empty at this hour, Roy notes with a pleased hum. He quickly becomes distracted, however, by the heavenly smells coming from the kitchen.

Algie and Rita are behind the counter again tonight, so Roy knows the food’s going to be fire.

“Ladies,” Roy wriggles his brows at the elderly women playfully. As a result, they award him with an extra scoop of mashed potatoes.

Jason greets them politely before following behind Roy to the closest table.

It’s always quiet around this hour, though it doesn’t mean heroes are necessarily holed up asleep in their rooms. Mission stragglers, graveyard shift Watchtower workers and heroes zeta-tubing in for their debriefs are constantly ongoing.

In quiet moments like this, though, Roy really does feel like it’s just him and Jay in space.

“So, you going to tell me what’s been bugging you tonight?” Jason asks though Roy thinks he already knows.

Roy glances around the empty cafeteria, save for a single table taken in the way back, before leaning in to whisper anyway. “It’s that chick.”

He shoots Roy an unimpressed look, “Chick, seriously?”

Roy sighs, pushing around the mashed potatoes on his tray, “I’m not gonna say her name when you already know.”

Jason simply hums in response as he unlocks and removes his helmet to eat.

Roy has never been quiet when it comes to the people he’s interested in and, sure, that’s how it started off with you, but you’re different.

No, literally, you don’t speak.

Not that you can’t, per se, just selectively and never to Roy.

Except one time. Your first mission alone with him.

Roy was usually unable to understand your movements, signals and signs outside the costume (not that you were ever caught dead on the Watchtower out of costume). After all the years of battling side by side on missions, Roy knows your battlefield code like the back of his hand.

Slight shift of your head to the right: back you up, shift to the left: back up, all the way down to your cute little hand movements that call out battle strategy.

Quiet but mighty. Never one to mess with.

Roy knows firsthand.

The one thing he’d never known until that one time, though? Your voice.

It was during the midst of a battle with Enchantress and Gorilla Grodd. You and Roy had been put in charge of reconnaissance for team Alpha when a henchman strayed way too close to the tree Roy was stationed behind.

You’d clicked your comm button three times to alert Roy, but it was already too late.

The guard startled and went for his radio, forcing Roy to draw an arrow. Though the hit itself was quiet, the thud of the man’s armored body was loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the general vicinity.

Cutely enough, you turned to Roy, watching as he drew his bow and nodded to you as you got into a defensive position.

He then proceeded to watch you take on tens of henchmen at a time, disarming their guns before they could even aim them. It was a shame that Roy’d been so preoccupied with your safety, no, namely distracted by the way the shiny material of your suit stretched across your huge ass, to focus on protecting himself.

Up until that point, everything had been going smoothly. That is, until-.

“ROY!”

You weren’t supposed to use names other than alias’ out of the field, but your slip-up had seemed so unintentional he didn’t need to see underneath the mask to know you were panicking. He could hear your regret in your loud silence for allowing your voice to slip through and leak into the chilly night air.

Your body crashed into his with such a ferocious force, that he had no choice but to shift out of the way. He hit the ground and you landed on top of him just in time for him to avoid the deadly ray of Enchantress’ incantation.

You, however? Not so much.

By jumping in front of Roy, you’d taken the brunt of the attack practically head-on.

The shock of hearing his name from you lasted mere milliseconds before you were on the ground, screaming bloody murder under the intense pain from the spell you’d just saved Roy from. He’d never thanked you for taking a proverbial bullet of kinds for him, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t at least tried. You’d been conveniently absent from the post-mission debrief and, after checking out the empty med bay, Roy hung around outside the women’s locker room long enough to get booted by a wary Supes.

Eventually, Roy gave up trying to catch you and, thus, his ‘thank you’ went unsaid.

And now, here you are. Again.

Seeing you twice in one night, Roy feels like he’s hit the jackpot.

Jason, being the asshole he is, waves you over as soon as his eyes catch yours.

Your thick thighs move languidly, shifting from side to side with each tantalizing sway of your perfect figure.

You’re stunning.

Roy clears his throat, coming back down to the present moment just in time for Jason to… introduce the two of you to each other. Huh?

Jason and Roy are the only ones in the cafeteria, Algie and Rita having reverted back to stirring pots in the back kitchen.

It’d be weird if they made you sit alone, right?

Right?

That has to be why Jason is doing all of this.

Your flashy red stops right in front of him before he has a chance to think further on the topic.

At this point, you’re close enough that your enchanting perfume has slowly started to invade his senses. Your scent quickly takes complete hold over him, making you the only thing he can focus on.

At Roy’s silent staring, Jason clears his throat, ”Roy, meet Cardinal. Cardinal, Roy.”

Even behind the security of his domino mask, Roy can practically see the mirth in the outlaw’s emerald eyes.

Roy’s completely lost for words.

Luckily, it doesn’t seem to be an issue with you very much being in the same boat.

He watches your every minute movement diligently so as not to miss this crucial moment. His eyes openly flick over your curves while your attention is diverted toward the raven-haired man next to you.

It’s been years since Roy’s been this close to you and he can’t help but greedily drink your hypnotizing presence down to the last drop like a fucking dog. If Elastic Man and Booster Gold hadn’t been occupying the only other table in the cafeteria, Roy would take you right here and now, Jason’s voyeur-ass be damned.

Roy watches as you huff slightly and shoulder his best friend’s arm lightly. Jason laughs easily at the cute contact, leaving Roy to wish he knew you well enough to be in on the joke too.

Well, to be honest, he just wishes he knew you period.

Roy clears his throat, going along with unnecessary niceties by extending his hand out to you with a false confidence he definitely wasn’t feeling. “What’s up, babe?”

Your head continues to face him head-on. He’s pretty sure if he could see anything under the mask you’d be wearing a deadpan stare.

You two have known of each other for years, working alongside each other the entire time- why are you being introduced to Roy and why is he acting like a douche?

He watches you turn to Jason and point at yourself then your head then Roy and Jason seems to understand immediately.

“Yeah, well I figured I’d just properly introduce you guys,” He runs a sheepish hand through his grey streak. “I don’t know,” He trails off with a sexy laugh that has even Roy fawning over him.

Roy really doesn’t stand a chance with Jason here.

Fuck.

Roy supposes you shoot him another deadpan glare because Jason, honest to god, giggles.

Fuck.

How is Roy supposed to compete with Jay’s rugged attractiveness when Roy’s shorter with half the game?

What happened to the awkward Jason Roy’d met all those years prior?

No, seriously-

Jason had always been an awkward fuck, but for some reason, it seemed to work for him. Roy, on the other hand, was spontaneous, loud, over-the-top and seemed to drive off every promising prospect in sight, namely you.

You give Roy a timid wave that has Jason raising a brow, but Roy just responds earnestly. “Big fan of your work, Cardinal.” Roy leans in across the table to get closer to you before he can stop himself, “Even bigger fan of that suit, beautiful.”

He watches as your arms subconsciously move to cover your stomach and instantly backs off when Jason pushes him back into his seat. “You’ll have to excuse my friend. He hasn’t gotten laid since he’s been sober.”

He hears your tiny ‘oh’ whispered into the quiet of the cafeteria and nearly loses it.

He wants you.

He needs you.

“It’s true. I’m pathetic.” Is what he ends up choking out.

Your head tilts at him with your hand floating to where your mouth is hidden under your vinyl confines. You look Jason’s way again before Roy hears your melodic giggle. He swears the gates of heaven have opened, he can practically hear the harps now, as he watches the little shakes in your shoulders move in time with the angelic noise.

Saint Peter, Roy pleads with whatever fuckers are out there, please call my fucking name. Preferably soon… No, preferably now while you’re still amused by his obnoxious, whore-like behavior.

“Would you want to sit?” Jason motions to the chair you’re standing behind which sits right between Jason and Roy. You glance down at your tray which has a grab-n-go sandwich on it from one of the fridges right next to the food counter then back up at Roy. “It’s cool if not. I know idiot over here can be a lot.”

“Hey, I resent that.”

“I’m sure you do, buddy,” Jason says, picking lightly at his chicken before finally taking a bite.

Jason always said the food here was good, but Roy knows it’s nothing compared to Alfred’s cooking back home.

Your giggling cuts off their old-married couple banter just like that. In fact, your laughter draws the attention of both men at the table so instantaneously, that neither has time to cover up their reactions to the unfamiliar sound they’ve been lucky enough to hear twice now tonight.

Jason’s fork freezes momentarily on the way to his mouth before he quickly moves as if it’d never happened. Roy, on the other hand, remains completely stupefied by your captivating, seemingly effortless charm.

He knows deep down that there’s no way you’ll actually stay, though it doesn’t stop him from fantasizing about you ripping off your mask for him to take in what’s been forbidden for all these years.

Part of him still holds out hope that, because it’s just him and Jason, you’ll actually do it, that you’ll actually give in and stay. Maybe the ripping off the mask is a bit too extreme, Roy mentally berates himself. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll lift the mask up past your nose and, at the very least, maybe you’ll just stay.

He watches with bated breath as you glance down at the seat only to have his stomach sink seconds later when you shake your head. You pick up your sandwich and motion with your head toward the exit.

Your continued lack of verbal response further proves there’s no way you’d ever even think about lifting up your mask to eat with Roy here.

He is defective.

“No worries,” Roy waves you off with a jerky, then overly casual nature.

Holy fuck, why can’t he just act normal around you?

“We’re usually in here around this hour if you ever do want to meet up,” Jason adds helpfully. Roy’ll be sure to thank him later for it. That is, right after he finishes kicking his ass for putting him through this embarrassment. “It’s usually just us down here at this hour anyway, it’d be nice to catch up.”

You nod eagerly at both of them, leaving Jason to laugh.

Roy watches you rub anxiously at your forearm only to spur into action when your tray nearly goes tumbling because of it. You catch the sandwich easily and Roy catches the tray before it can even get close to the ground, but that doesn’t stop you from bending down too.

At the sight of the tray safe in his hand, you, still bent over, look up, causing your noses to bump.

“I can take care of you,” Roy’s grave voice is nearly a whisper in the quiet of the large room. You gasp slightly and startle backward, causing Roy to backtrack in a slightly higher-pitched voice. “They tray, I mean.” He clears his throat until his voice reaches its normal timbre, “I can take care of the tray for you.”

You seem to be momentarily frozen much to Roy’s surprise, though it doesn’t last for long. Soon, you’re nodding distractedly, backing away from their table all the while.

With your wrapped sandwich in one hand, you use the other to give a hasty thumbs up.

Roy waves you off with a defeated smile, bidding you a cursory goodnight.

Then you’re turning on your heel, speeding for the exit at a pace even Wally wouldn’t be able to keep up with.

He fucked up.

Neither he nor Jason can pull their eyes off you as you saunter away.

Roy bites down harder on his chapped, bottom lip with each stomp of your heels as it jiggles your infamous cheeks in the process. Damn, what Roy wouldn’t do to get his hands on as much of your ass as he could manage. He knows there’s no way your ass would fit in the palms of his hands but, damn, if the thought alone doesn’t leave him drooling.

He doesn’t even notice the tent forming in his lap until Jason shoots him an unimpressed stare.

“You’ve got it bad, bro,” Jason mutters into his water glass.

𓅪𓅪

Roy does have it bad.

So bad that he makes his best friend take care of the raging boner you’d left him with.

Jason wasn’t lying when he said Roy hadn’t been laid since he’d sobered up around two years ago, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t jacking it almost every night. He’s found that the showers between the hours of four and five am are a safe haven for him to quickly get off, but tonight he needs something more.

Tonight’s different.

Roy presses Jason against the tiled wall and fucks into his tight ass all while imagining your wet pussy and fucked-out face. Roy comes embarrassingly fast, something Jason doesn’t let slide. He puts Roy to work, forcing his dick down his throat with a rough hand gripping his fiery hair until he comes all over Roy’s freckled face with a grunt.

It’s good and fine and whatever… Jason’s extremely attractive- that’s not the issue.

The issue is he’s not you.

Jason takes one look at Roy’s constipated face and sighs, wiping gently at the remaining beads of come on the tip of his cock with Roy’s discarded boxers.

“Just talk to her,“ He says before leaving Roy to drown under the stream of his post-nut misery.

𓅪𓅪

He’s rounding the corner to his dorm room in his towel when he runs right smack into you and you’re…

“Holy shit,” Roy can’t help the airy moan that escapes at the sight of you in a loosely tied silk robe- only a silk robe.

You’re breathtaking.

Your billowing hair, gleaming eyes and, overall, sinful features leave Roy’s mouth hanging open. Speaking of mouths, your supple, pouty lips are screaming at Roy to slip his dick between them and choke you with his length until he sees tears in the corners of your sex-doll eyes.

Even in the fluorescent lights of the Watchtower hallways, your skin softly glows, radiating deep down into Roy’s bones.

He needs to get his hands on you.

Your features all meld together perfectly in a way that makes sense and he wonders how he ever could’ve imagined you to look any other way.

You tilt your head at him but don’t make to pass. It’s like you’re captivated by his captivation and, if anything, it only serves to captivate Roy further.

You seem somewhat startled, though it’s obvious you’re trying to hide it. Roy wishes he could control his reaction, he really does, but you don’t know what you’re doing to him. Your startled face steadily shifts, leaving Roy to wonder if maybe you do. Maybe you know exactly what kind of effect you’re having on him.

The teasing glint in your eyes seems to point to the latter and it’s making Roy weak in his already wobbly knees.

The sight of your costumed-self in the past has been enough to render him speechless. Now you’re here, standing in front of Roy’s rabid form with your robe steadily slipping from your silky shoulder and further down your bicep.

Needless to say, the one-on-one contact with you is dizzying. It’s as if he’s drowning in the thick syrup of your honey-sweet figure without you ever having uttered a word other than his name.

A succubus of sorts, for sure.

You’re hypnotizing and Roy knows he’s yet to pick his jaw up off the floor but can’t bring himself to stop.

A steady breeze tickles at his mid-drift and it’s then he realizes he’s also forgotten to pick up his fucking towel in the process.

While Roy’s been completely stupefied by your ethereal features, you’ve been staring at his half-mast cock with an unreadable look. Roy inwardly groans when he realizes that Jason would probably know what it meant, but erases the thought as soon as it pops into his head.

Roy looks down at his freckled, pink-tipped dick then back up at you; then back down again and back up.

“Jeez,” He scrambles to drop to the floor for the Justice League embroidered towels they supplied in the locker rooms. “Sorry,” His voice is thick with want as he squeezes his words out from behind a lump in his throat you’ve conveniently caused. “Didn’t see you there,” He says once he’s popped back up and secured his towel. “You alright?”

Your eyes flick down to his now completely erect cock that’s covered once again by his towel, then back up to his emerald eyes. He follows the motion self-consciously, eagerly awaiting your next move.

You’re a wild card to him. He can truly say you’re one of the few people he’s unable to read and one of the only people that he never knows what you’re going to do next.

You’re a captivating mystery; an enigma for Roy’s puzzle-loving brain to tirelessly work at. And here you are, revealing almost everything to him, while still revealing absolutely nothing.

You nod and he watches as a magnificent blush coats your cheeks, though not the ones he’s been carnally craving.

“Sorry,” Roy sputters again as you continue past him like nothing had even happened. Like Roy hadn’t been staring at you for two minutes straight.

You shake your head easily as if to say you don’t care, but Roy hopes you do.

You continue past him with your usual confident stride, leaving Roy to wonder how you can possibly expect him to move at all with the trance you’ve put on him. His wobbly knees struggle to remain upright as your silent padding grows more and more distant.

Your scent lingers in the air around him like a cruel reminder of what could’ve been.

When he’s finally able, he turns around to watch your ass jiggle further and further down the hall with a heavy heart and even heavier blue balls. His heart nearly stops when you actually turn around to see if he’s still there, only to blush and duck your head back around on account of his blatant staring.

And so, the chase continues.

A/N: i’ve fully fallen in love w my characterization of roy and i’m absolutely WRECKED about it ok? i hope u feel the same and let me know if u do! ALSO ok I wrote this back in March (before I broke my pinky lol) but I did edit recently, but if it sounds a bit off from my current stuff that’s why :,P

Important: Cardinal is not usually mute, I take a lot of her hero design from Black Bat and thought it would be cool to include another aspect of Cassandra's character, hence this!

[next] || ao3 || pinned

#answered #albatmobile prompts #albatmobile oc!cardinal #reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #x reader #my fic: redheaded conundrum

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thelarriefics · 1 year

Photo

GIRL DIRECTION FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find more fics where Harry and Louis fall under the sapphic label. (Part I)

📖 Once a Gentle Breeze by @ireallysawanangel (48k)

With nothing but the small sum of money in her bank account and the few bags holding all of her belongings, Harry moved from her small hometown to London to pursue her dreams of becoming a songwriter. To afford her bills and avoid eviction while desperately trying to immerse herself in the London music scene, she took a job at a bar. But it wasn’t the type of bar she was expecting it to be.

Or the girl direction Coyote Ugly AU.

📖 Oh, That's What I Want by @lululawrence (38k)

Louis is 42 and newly divorced with her four daughters off to college when she realizes all the plans she used to have for her life no longer fit. Just as she's starting to figure things out, she meets Harry Styles who proves sometimes starting over turns out so much better than sticking with the original plan.

📖 just tell me you love me (that's all i need to hear) by @finelinelarents (21k)

The one where they just can't get it right, until they do.

📖 I know I've got this (because I've had it all along) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (16k)

The card is purple, the letters printed on it in black, with an almost lace looking overlay over the words. There’s what might be a bow belonging to a cute pair of panties separating Harry’s name from the service they offer. It’s a cute card.

It’s what’s on the other side that has Louis’ stomach in a knot.

Good for one (1) photography session and up to thirty (30) photos of your choice.

📖 True as it Can Be by @beelou (11k)

a Beauty and the Beast au, but make it girl direction

📖 Ride the W.A.V.E. by @becomeawendybird (7k)

Petty officer Louis Tomlinson can't resist a good thing when it's right in front of her.

📖 never forget it by @finelinegynandromorph (8k)

harry and louis haven't seen each other in 20 years. they go for a swim

📖 you were right in front of me by @non-binharry (6k)

Harry is a service top, and Louis is her adoring butch daddy.

📖 Not A God Or A Hero by @dreamerdivingheadfirst (6k)

given a chance to be their true selves, Harry and Louis try again.

📖 Perfume Purgatory by @littleroverlouis (4k)

Louis is enduring the purgatory of selling perfume as a seasonal employee at the department store where her girlfriend, Harry, is employed.

She still hates the mall but needs the extra cash to purchase Harry a special gift.

📖 Wouldn’t Have it Any Other Way by @parmahamlarrie (4k)

It has been ages since Louis and Harry have been on a proper date night. Between work and their two young kids, they just don't have the time anymore. With one text, Louis makes sure to change that, and Harry has very clear ideas on how she wants the night to end.

📖 i, i feel like fuckin' something by @kingonafiftymetreroad (4k)

Harry's waited two weeks to try out her new toy. She gets more than she bargained for.

📖 Witch Girlfriend Drabbles by @absoloutenonsense (3k)

Harry is a witch and Louis is her mortal girlfriend.

📖 when we're finished saying nothing by @disgruntledkittenface (3k)

Louis has barely woken up when she realizes that Harry is still mad from the night before. The silent treatment that Harry prefers when she’s like this isn’t going to achieve anything, so Louis gets up to apologize only to find out there’s more going on with her mate than she thought. That’s when her instincts take over.

An alpha/alpha AU inspired by Written All Over Your Face.

📖 little pink skirt by @ialwaysknewyouwerepunk (2k)

Harry, Louis, Zayn and Liam are at a festival. It's the afternoon of the last day, and they're lounging on the grass before the action starts, still recovering from the night before. There's a bunch of sexual tension between H and L from where things left off in their drunken haze. When Louis tries to light a spliff, the wind makes it impossible to do so, for which Harry has an ingenious idea. And then one thing leads to another.

📖 This Christmas (to the one I've been missing) by @larrysballetslippers (2k)

Louis almost made it to the end of her shift before someone familiar stepped into the store. A long awaited Christmas tale.

📖 Doc In My Box by @homosociallyyours (2k)

Faced with lots of extra stress at work, Louis hasn't really felt like she could let go sexually in a while. She's pretty sure that a visit to a certain gynecologist will help change that, though.

📖 make my christmas eve 4 carats please by @loveislarryislove (2k)

For Louis' birthday/Christmas present, Harry gives her a lapdance -- with more than just one kind of wetness involved.

📖 Wrap Me Up In All Your.. by @yoursolosong (1k)

After a long terrible day, all Harry wants is to be wrapped in Louis' scent and the safety of their nest.

#girl direction fics #hlcreators #hljournal #yourlarrysource

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greensleeves888 · 2 years

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Widow's Pique- Chapter 30

Overview: Penny is a 41 year old mother of one, existing day to day in the normal world until a chance encounter changes everything, for everyone.

Author’s Notes: Hey Tumblrs! So this is my first ever story (not counting the shit I created at school). So be easy on me! I apologise for any typos, and for my misunderstanding of basic punctuation. This story has a little bit of Yours Truly woven into it. It’s a slow burn, full of angst, inner monologues, and insecurities but promises a happy ending of sorts! Using just my imagination and countless hours “researching” Mr. Cavill, I hope I can portray a different side to this fascinating man. Please indulge me …

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus Size/Curvy OFC (Penny) Chapter: 30 of ?

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Angst. Pregnancy. Sex.

Disclaimers: This is all fiction baby!

Over 18’s only. No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material, and claiming it as your own.

MASTERLIST

Big kisses in advance for your Re-blogs, Comments, and Likes - they mean SO much to me xxx

There is a Spotify playlist that accompanies this story - to listen click here

Penny grabbed so tightly onto Henry's hand that he snapped his head towards her, mouthing the words 'Are you ok?' as they walked up the steps to the school playground. She felt like a cowboy entering a swing door saloon in a Western. So many pairs of eyes watching them. Shocked by Henry's presence and Penny's unhidden stomach.

Amidst the hushed atmosphere, small pre-schoolers whizzed around on their scooters, tugged on their mothers leggings and fussed in their push chairs as the mostly female crowd studied the pair as they walked towards the back of the school.

Julia trotted over, in impractically high heels to dramatically display her friendship with Penny.

"Henry, this is Julia, Jules - Henry."

Her theatrics increased as she air-kissed both of Henry's cheeks "So nice to finally meet you Henry, my goodness you're even bigger than I'd remembered" as she held her beautifully manicured hand against his chest and giggled.

Penny snorted quietly as a few more mums sidled up to introduce themselves.

Before long, several selfies had been taken and Henry had thoroughly charmed the school mums with his witty banter and public displays of affection with Penny. Her light grey shirred summer dress clung to her ample chest and flowed over her bump. The empire waistline making her pregnancy unmistakeable now. Most had just stared, but on seeing Henry proudly holding her tummy and rubbing it casually as he chatted, Penny began to receive several congratulations and smiles.

As the children flowed out, the noise level returned and Henry had another wave of selfie requests from Mums feeling braver now that they could use their children as an excuse to get close to the actor.

Ben's class was one of the last to be dismissed. In true 8 year old fashion he barrelled up to Penny with his book bag, water bottle and lunch bag before realising Henry was there.

Ben sprung up into his arms, gripping Henry with all of his might. "Missed you Bud," Henry whispered as Ben continued to cling to him.

"Daddy Henry, you came back!" he squealed, his eyes shut and his grubby hands gripping the back of Henry's t-shirt.

"I always come back buddy, never forget that."

It was Henry's turn to grip Penny's hand tightly as they sat in the warm darkness of the ultrasound room. Pre-warmed gel was squirted onto Penny's tummy as the doctor fiddled and scrolled with one hand and lifted and twisted the wand in the other, pushing hard against Penny's firm stomach.

"Does that hurt honey?" Henry asked, hoping it would make the consultant press more lightly.

"It's fine Hen, just relax."

The fast swooshing of the baby's heartbeat filled the room as tears flowed down Henry's cheeks. When the screen showed the head and then quickly the legs as the baby wriggled inside. Henry let out a strange noise. Penny turned to see his ugly crying face again, she couldn't help but giggle.

"Oh, Hen, makes it seem so much more real doesn't it?" as she squeezed harder on his hand as he smiled, unable to speak.

"So, are we wanting to know the gender?" The doctor asked, looking over the top of his glasses. Both Henry and Penny nodded anxiously as the doctor flicked the wand and repositioned the view.

"If you take a look here, baby is clearly showing us that she is a little girl, lovely," he smiled at them both as Penny shuddered with happy tears.

"My girls." Henry managed as he rubbed Penny's forearm. Desperately trying to hold back his own tears without success.

After Penny was wiped, sat up and sorted out, the Consultant ran through the options for the labour and delivery. Henry asked so many questions, Penny was impressed with his level of understanding and his sweet protective manner over her wellbeing. She still wasn't convinced that she needed to be in London for the delivery, but didn't want to have that argument in front of the doctor.

On leaving the hospital they were both anxious about being papped, so opted for separate cars. Henry didn't want to risk stressing Penny out with any attention from the press, despite wanting to shout his excitement from the rooftops. The cars met up again outside Henry's parents house, Henry waiting to help Penny out, like the gentleman he always was.

Marianne had become very protective over Penny since her spell in hospital, fussing over her more than she ever did her boys. Penny's fears over Henry's family disapproving of their surprise addition were completely unfounded and their excitement at the new arrival was palpable.

"Oh Penny, just look at you." Marianne swept towards Penny, embracing the sides of her stomach, then pulling her in for one of her trademark hugs.

Colin slapped Henry on the back in a proud and congratulatory manner, ushering him into the kitchen after the ladies.

Before she knew it, Penny was sat down in the window seat being shown pictures of Henry as a baby. His eyes were unmistakeable even then.

"Oh my goodness, he was adorable Marianne, such a chubby little thing too!"

"Ha, yes, he was like a little sumo wrestler with all those little rolls. He was 10lb 6oz too! Good job he wasn't my first or I wouldn't have tried again." Marianne instantly regretted her words and placed a hand on Penny's knee. "I'm sure this little one won't be that big my dear."

Penny sat back, gripping her belly and looking down. "I don't know Marianne, they're measuring big, and I feel a lot bigger than I did with Ben.

At that point Henry and Colin entered the room with tea and biscuits.

"Mum, really?! Not the baby album." he cringed, kissing Penny on the top of her head as he sat down next to her.

"His brothers nicknamed him Jabba, you can see why now can't you?!" Colin joked as Henry closed up the album whilst giving his own father the stink eye.

Henry leaned into Penny's stomach, cupping his hands together.

"Don't listen to Pops little one, he's getting sarcastic in his old age. Your big brother is going to be nothing but nice to you."

Penny blushed at Henry's soppiness in front of his parents. Marianne gazed happily at them both. Penny felt a little uncomfortable with the attention.

The conversation changed towards their earlier consultants appointment. Penny decided to broach the subject of not having the baby in London.

"It's not that I don't like the hospital Henry, it's just that it's so far from home and they're not worried about anything. In fact recently I've been considering a home birth."

"No." Henry abruptly stated. "Out of the question."

"Henry!" Marianne reproached. "There's nothing wrong with home-birthing. I had Charlie at home and it was perfectly safe. Alex was a home birth, and Poppy too!"

Penny was shocked by Henry's attitude and her emotions quickly bubbled up. She breathed deeply to try and quell her tears. She swallowed and continued. "I'm just considering it at the moment, but as I'm the one who has to squeeze a person out of me I think I get to choose where and how."

Henry cringed at his reaction. "I'm sorry Pen. I, just want you and the baby to be safe."

"Well that's my preference too honey. Remember, I've done this before ok?"

Colin squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, not wanting to get involved in any arguments.

"More tea?" he offered, changing the subject.

Driving back home they were both quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Henry didn't like it when plans were changed, he felt uneasy and a little panicked thinking his daughter could be born without a doctor nearby.

Penny was still smarting from Henry's bolshy attitude earlier, she hated being treated like she didn't know her own mind.

Henry knew he'd upset her, but he also thought she was being a little naive and selfish perhaps. Not that he would dare say that to her. His brothers were right when they'd warned him not to cross a pregnant woman, Penny certainly was quick to snap back at him lately. He actually found it quite endearing, in fact everything she did lately made his heart melt. Her little waddle, her many cushions in the bed, putting on her shoes, even getting in the car. Seeing her carrying their baby was truly fascinating to him and made him feel so unbelievably proud and protective of her.

He reach over and placed his hand on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I love you Penny Green, do you know that?"

Penny smiled, turning to look at him as he kept his eyes on the road ahead. A warm smile on his handsome face.

She gripped his hand, then ran it up along his shirt sleeve to his shoulder as he grabbed her hand again he brought it to his lips and kissed it.

Penny was 28 weeks pregnant now and feeling it. She knew that being an older mum would be hard work, but some days all she wanted to do was float in the tub. Henry was ridiculously attentive though, to the point where she was pretty sure he would bathe, dress and feed her if she let him.

She looked at her crinkled fingertips and decided she needed to leave the bath, heaving herself forward as her aching bones protested. On cue, Henry appeared, grasping her under her arms and taking her weight as she climbed out, embarrassed that she was becoming so reliant on his help already.

"Thanks Hen, it's ok though, I can still get out of the bath honey." she smiled.

"I know Pen, I was just here so thought I'd lend a hand", he was aware that he was fussing too much and worried that he was driving her nuts in doing so.

"Did you decide what you are going to wear yet honey?" He asked tentatively.

It seemed that every day there was a new delivery of something or other baby or pregnancy related. Henry seemed hell bent on buying every gadget, gismo and toy for their little girl, as well as cute outfits for Penny. Henry was living out his fantasy as Penny indulged his love of seeing her dress up for him. He couldn't get enough of her new sexy shape and her growing bump. She suspected her tiredness was in part due to Henry's increased libido, which was pretty healthy beforehand. Not that she was complaining, the constant adoration and manhandling was doing wonders for Penny's confidence. She hadn't even needed much persuading to have a photoshoot with one of Henry's favourite photographers.

Penny chose a cute button front emerald green dress with a scoop neck, high waistline and delicate puffed sleeves. She also let him chose two more outfits for her. Knowing how much enjoyment he was getting from it.

She finished her makeup and carefully pulled the dress over her head. The fabric was thin, stretchy and beautifully soft. She moaned quietly at the sensation as she smoothed and pulled the dress into the right position. Even she couldn't stop brushing her hands over her large stomach, feeling especially sensitive lately.

With a final fluff of her curls she headed downstairs to join Henry, the photographer and his assistant. Henry stopped mid sentence as he spotted Penny on the stairs. Neil and Abby followed his gaze as they all watched Penny gracefully but carefully descend the last two steps.

"And here she is, Neil, Abby. This is my Penny"

Penny felt flushed with the attention, but mostly Henry's intense, loving but licentious stare. He even licked his lips, making Penny shudder slightly with excitement. She hoped the shoot wouldn't take too long, she desperately needed to be alone with him.

At first Penny felt a little self conscious posing for photos around the house and garden. Henry of course was a natural, loving the intimate poses, knowing how great the shots would look already. Nick was a real sweetheart, so generous with his praise and flattery that by the end of the shoot Penny almost felt like a model.

"Oh Penny, you are just gonna love these shots. Those last ones against the door - mmm - just divine."

"Thanks Nick, I'm glad you got some you're happy with." she added as Henry kissed the side of her head for the hundredth time that day.

By the time the equipment was packed away and farewells were said Penny flopped down on the sofa to rest her aching feet. Henry was quick to offer a foot rub as he grinned up at her.

"What?" she asked, wondering what was so funny.

"Can't a man just enjoy rubbing his wife's feet my love?"

"Not as much as you seem to be Mr Cavill. Plus, I'm not your wife yet, merely your fiancee."

Henry detected an undertone to her statement.

"There is nothing mere about being my betrothed young lady." He ran his warm hand slowly up her calf muscle, to behind her thigh under her dress, finishing at her large, soft behind. He crawled up towards her carefully, slowly kissing her thigh, her stomach, her arms, her neck and then her lips.

Penny ran her fingers through his growing curls, thickened but still soft with product. She began unbuttoning his shirt. He watched her fingers then looked up at her with quizzical eyebrows.

"Frisky again Mrs Green? You will be the death of me." he growled as he knelt up to undo his jeans and Penny sat up to continue with his shirt. Henry helped her to stand as he deftly pulled her dress up over her head and her knickers down. Carefully allowing her to get her balance as she stepped out of them. He remained crouched below her, looking up at her beautiful round stomach. As much as he couldn't wait to meet their daughter he would miss her like this, and wondered if she would consider more children after.

"You." he spoke between kisses "Are. The. Most. Sexiest. Woman. I. Have. Ever. Met."

Penny was already super aroused. His words, his kisses, his warm breath on her skin sent shockwaves of delight through her. She'd removed her bra and played with her nipples as Henry swept two fingers through her folds and lewdly licked his fingers clean. She pulled him up and kissed him so fiercely he almost lost his balance. Her nails clawed at his back. Her large firm stomach pushed against his newly softened one. Henry's hands slid all over her, grabbing at her, squeezing at her. He found her breasts again and sucked her swollen nipples into his hungry mouth, his tongue swirling as she moaned in exquisite pleasure.

"Hen, I need you, inside me, now."

He chuckled, loving her desperation "Oh my beautiful girl, does someone want Daddy's cock inside them?"

Penny was too far gone to chuckle at his words, she was ready to beg if he asked.

"Please, yes, please Daddy, I need your cock. I need it now. Fuck me, fuck me hard."

Henry's dick twitched at her words. He grabbed her by the waist and spun her around.

"Lean forward, kneel on the sofa." he ordered. "'kay?" he quickly checked to make sure she was comfy. Again Henry ran his fingers through Penny's sex, using her wetness to smear over his steel hard dick. This position had proved very successful for them recently now that Penny was too big for some of their other favourite positions.

"Henry, now!" Penny shouted as Henry smirked at her bossiness.

"Yes my princess. Uh. Take. Daddy's cock. In your. Uh. Tight. Little. Pussy"

Penny loved his dirty talk, each time she pushed him to say filthier things to her. He treated her so gently at every other time she craved the contrast when they were intimate. To hear such a polite, charming man say such dirty, erotic words was such a turn on for Penny.

The sound of his hips slapping against Penny's backside filled the house. she shouted for him to go harder and faster. Henry worried he might hurt her but also desperately wanted to satisfy. Not wanting to upset Penny, he upped his pace and energy.

"Fuck, Hen, so, fucking, good. I'm so close, so, so close…, please"

Henry's nostrils flared as sweat poured down his reddened face. Concentrating so hard not to disappoint her and come first.

Penny braced herself against the back of the sofa, head down, watching everything jolt with Henry's vigour.

Neither of them spoke as they both concentrated on Penny's climax. Henry bit deep into his bottom lip as he readjusted his grip of Penny's hips.

She roared as the ecstasy washed over her, Henry gratefully joining her in his release. Relieved that he managed to hold out. They slowly rocked together, as the electric pulses ebbed away and they became aware of their surroundings again.

"Thank you honey, I - I really needed that." Penny whispered shyly.

Henry kissed her back as his warm hands found their way to her stomach, rubbing it gently as he caught his breath.

"Lets get cleaned up and I'll make us some lunch mama" Henry gathered up their clothing and offered his hand to lead a pink faced Penny upstairs.

Tiredness washed over her as Henry clipped up her hair and turned on the shower. Guiding her again, he held the shower head and ran the soothing warm water over her body before doing the same himself. Penny's blinks became slower and slower as Henry washed her. Wanting to savour every moment, but knowing how tired she was, he had to be quick.

Once showered he sat her down and dried her off. Her eyes were completely closed now, she was totally at his will as he gently rubbed her soft skin. After quickly drying himself he picked her up and placed her on top of the covers, making sure he propped her onto her side with her many pillows. He stood for several moments watching her sleep, committing this moment to memory. Consumed by such a powerful feeling of love and contentment. Knowing he would do absolutely anything for the woman sleeping before him.

An hour later Henry sat on the armchair, thinking back to their earlier fun, but also Penny's words about 'merely being his fiancee'. He was desperate to call her his wife, he tried to imagine their wedding, the potential intrusion from the press, the reaction of his fans. He just couldn't risk upsetting Penny by even discussing it at the moment. He daydreamed about seeing her walk down the aisle, flowers in her hair, freckles on her nose… a creak from upstairs woke him from his musings.

Penny tried on her new striped jersey dress and was surprised at how well it fitted, sure her arse looked huge, her tummy was huge and her boobs, well, they were ridiculous, but sod it, she was pregnant and there was no disguising it now so she might as well embrace it! A small voice at the back of her head whispered, you sure about this hun? Before an even louder one told it to fuck off.

Downstairs she found a puppy eyed Henry, retrieving lunch from the fridge.

"My word Penelope, you are spoiling me today." he growled as her reached for her waist.

"This? It's just something casual for the school run Hen!"

"Hmm.." he pondered, spinning her around for inspection.

"What, is it too clingy?"

"It certainly fits where it touches Pen, that's why I like it so much." he began kissing her neck as his hands roamed her backside.

"Mr. Cavill, that's enough of that! You have a hungry pregnant woman before you, it's practically an emergency." she quipped as she wiggled towards the dining table.

Penny smirked at the Mrs Cavill mug that Henry always liked to use for her. Holding it up to toast her handsome chef as he glugged from his sports bottle. Henry paused and almost made a Mrs Cavill comment, but thought better of it. Penny noticed his apprehension.

"What is it Cavill, fess up. I can tell when you want to say something."

"What? I'm just having a drink."

"Fine, don't tell me then." she half joked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"It's, it's." shit - he thought, why am I even saying anything? "I was thinking about what you said earlier, about 'merely' being my fiancee. You know I'd marry you tomorrow if I could Pen."

Penny continued to side eye him, wondering what he wasn't saying.

Henry continued under Penny's intense glare. "I know that you didn't want to have a child out of wedlock, and weddings are complicated, and hard to keep under wraps from the press. The last thing I want is to cause you any additional stress at the moment, my love."

"What are you saying Henry?"

"Nothing really, I seem just to have random words coming from my mouth at the moment without making much sense. I, I, just want you to be my wife. I want you to feel secure and safe and, and proper. Shit, I shouldn't have said anything."

"Henry, are you trying to say that you want to get married before the baby arrives?" Penny sat back in her seat, subconsciously rubbing her stomach.

"No, honey, it's a terrible idea, not enough time, too much stress. We need to focus on little legs arrival. I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry, I want this too Hen. But there's no way we can find a venue, a dress, organise the reception in such a short space of time. I don't want to be going into labour and getting married on the same day hun."

"I don't care about the party, or the venue. I just want to be your husband. If you really want this too Pen, I can make it happen - you wouldn't need to lift a finger - unless you wanted to of course. I just don't want to stress you out honey."

Penny blew out her deep breath, "Ok, let's do it."

"Really? You really want to Pen?" Henry stood up, his hands reaching behind his head in excitement.

"Definitely, as long as you don't mind me waddling down the aisle looking like a marshmallow."

"Come here." Henry beckoned as he walked around the table to her. "Let's go get ourselves hitched Mrs Green."

Authors Comments It seems every time I post a chapter I have to apologise - this time has been the longest gap between chapters - for which I am so sorry. My life has been very chaotic, with far too many distractions. I do hope you enjoyed reading about this goofy pair again as they prepare for parenthood as a couple. Thank you all for your patience xxx

Read Chapter 31 Here

#henry cavill #the cavillry #widows pique widows peek #widows pique #widows peek #henry cavill fantasy #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #pregnant #henry cavill x plus size ofc #henry cavill x pregnant reader

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sparrowmoth · 1 year

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Carlos and the (...) No Good, Very Bad Day • [AO3]

Teen | 4K+ | Carlos-centric | Crack/Humor, Magical Accidents

A/N: Chapter three! Again, this can be read as gen or shippy idc. <3

CW: Some dark humour, swearing, and an unresolved argument.

Chapter Three: Running On Empty

Betrayal is an ugly thing, no matter how it may manifest.

For Carlos, betrayal comes in the form of Evie deftly unclipping her purse strap and securing it to his makeshift collar. He’s vocal how he feels about this—going so far as to throw his head back and howl to drown her voice out. He is very uninterested in what she has to say about murder and how “even a puppy” doesn’t stand a chance against a jury. She’s only saying that because it’s Mal…

If it were anyone else, she would at least let him maul them.

What a double standard.

He huffs and collapses dramatically in the grass, exhausted from struggling against the stupid collar, and the stupid leash, and…

He’s just exhausted. And hungry, too.

“Okay, well, now that that’s over…” Mal says awkwardly, stepping from the tree line where she’d stopped to wait while Carlos threw his “tantrum” (Evie’s words, definitely not what happened)—

Carlos bares his teeth at her, but doesn’t lift his head.

“What’s all that?” asks Jay, trying to cut through the tension. He gestures to the bag Mal has slung over her shoulder—a beat-up purple messenger bag which looks full to bursting. “Hope it’s a picnic,” he adds, half-joking as he rubs his belly. “I’m starving.”

Carlos’ stomach rumbles audibly, as if in agreement, and Jay throws him a grin. “You too, ‘Los? Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find you—”

“Jay,” Evie sharply interjects, eyebrows raised in warning.

“…something you’ll like?” Jay finishes sheepishly.

Mal drops her bag on the grass a little ways in front of Carlos before taking position behind it. “No food,” she tells Jay simply, “unless, of course, you haven’t lost your taste for… lizard legs.” She smirks at his expression, leaning over to give him a shove. “Oh, come onnn… don’t go all ‘Auradon’ on me now, Jay. You’re breaking my heart.”

She laughs, and Jay laughs, and Evie clears her throat.

“Right, sorry,” says Mal with a flush to her cheeks. “I brought all the stuff—to change Carlos back, I mean. There’s just, um, one thing…”

Carlos starts to growl, but Evie shushes him, stroking his back.

“Look, it’s not a big deal, it’s just… the spell calls for moonlight.”

Carlos lets out a bark as he gets to his feet, staring pointedly at Mal, who raises her hands in surrender and quickly responds, “Okay, so it kind of is a big deal!” Carlos barks again. “Evil, of course I’m—”

Carlos throws his head back and starts to howl again, causing Jay to wince and throw a glance at Mal. “That’s some real Disney princess shit,” he comments dryly. “Seriously though, since when can you talk to animals?”

Rolling her eyes, Mal starts to brush him off, but Evie interjects—

“He has a point,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”

“I don’t know—since today?” Mal replies, a little exasperated. She averts her eyes, focusing on the meadow grass as she plucks a little yellow wildflower and starts to roll it between her thumb and index finger. “Anyway,” she mutters, “it’s not all animals… just Carlos.”

He growls menacingly at her, but she ignores him.

Even Evie doesn’t so much as give his leash a little tug before she’s answering thoughtfully, “It must be some kind of magical bond…”

Carlos barks a laugh—and a little more than that—which he’s sure Mal catches, much as she continues to ignore him. “I guess,” is all she says to Evie, flicking the thoroughly crushed flower in Jay’s direction before plucking another to destroy in the same way.

It’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of the birds and the breeze through the trees, the grasses whispering, a distant airplane—

“So…” Jay breaks the silence, drawing everyone’s eyes to him. “We’re gonna sit around out here all day, or what?” He shrugs.

That starts Carlos barking again, yelling what only Mal can hear.

“I know!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up. “I said I was sorry! Yes, I did—I totally did, fucker, you just didn’t hear me,” she presses on, raising her voice to be heard over Carlos’ crescendo. “Oh, please, I did not plan this…” She pauses to listen, but she’s glowering. “No, of course you would think that, of course, but if you would just—no, you shut up—DE VIL, DAMN IT, I AM TRYING TO FUCKING—”

Carlos lunges, snapping his teeth—and he gets close, so close to biting down on Mal’s hand, having slowly lured her in over the course of their little argument—

He gets close, so close, but Evie betrays him—for a second time.

She yanks back on his leash with a reprimand of, “Carlos!”

Whipping around, he bites down on the leash and gives it a firm tug, right out of Evie’s grasp. He shoots her a dark look before he takes off running, leash held in his jaws. She’s going to need a new purse strap, because he’s not coming back, and as soon as he’s clear, he’s chewing through this stupid leather and leaving it out to rot—

Jay’s voice calls out behind him, yelling for him to, “Stop! Come back!” He’s crashing through the underbrush, dodging trees and leaping over logs—but no matter how fast or how determined…

He’s never catching Carlos.

Little legs be damned.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. And feel free tosubscribe on AO3 if you want to be alerted when the next chapter comes out. Kudos and comments are lovely, as well! ♥

#descendants #carlos de vil #descendants fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #core four #rotten OT4 #puppy!Carlos AU #descendants fandom #almost forgot to post chap 3 here #chapter 4 is in the works <3

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ktheist · 3 years

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girls like you [don’t] run ‘round with guys like me | m

characters. popular!reader x shy!jimin

genre. college au. rich kids au. fwb au. eventual ceo au. eventual racer au.

words. 4k

warnings. 18+

note. this is a repost. tumblr messed up my exposure last time. this fic didn’t show up in search and it’s probably a third post of mine that ends up like this. this one probably won’t either but posting bc someone might see it and like it.

It’s easy to tell when Park Jimin is in love.

Unlike Kim Seokjin, his eccentric, dad joke-loving friend, Jimin would only wear the pastel pink when he’s feeling giggly and shy and mushy inside.

The source of said feelings being either the barista he goes to get his daily dose of coffee from, or the girl at the library he studies at during finals or well, right now it’s the girl he’s fucking almost every day of the week - you.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin looks at him like he just dumped a spoonful of salt in a broth that needs a little, teensy bit of sugar.

Or his face seems to say that as he goes on, “she’s a mean girl. She’s mean.”

Jimin isn’t sure if Seokjin’s aware that he’s just repeated the same thing twice.

“She calls you Chim!” The older man reiterates.

“Yeah, it’s…” Jimin trails off, the heartwarming image of you cuddling into him after yet another mindblowing sex, flashing at the back of his mind, “...her pet name for me.”

“Sounds to me like she can’t remember your actual name,” Min Yoongi interjects from the couch he’s claimed for himself ever since they got to their usual hangout.

It’s a penthouse Jimin’s parents bought him on his 18th birthday. Him and the boys would hang around there after they’re done with classes or just need a place to crash whenever they have problems with their girlfriends or boyfriends or parents or any sort of problem that renders their usual room not sleepable.

“I think we can just agree we have different wants,” Jeongguk - or the sanest of them all, as Jimin likes to call him - chirps in, taking a bite of the apple he got from the fridge.

“Exactly,” Jimin throws his hands up as if freed from his elder friends’ judge-filled eyes. The vibration of his phone in his lap gives him even more comfort to know that he finally has an excuse to slip away - he checks his phone, your name flashing in the bubble that says ‘hey, wyd?’

“I have to go, it’s ___.”

A series of groans and hollers equally erupts from the men in the room at the realization of what Jimin’s ‘having to go’ means.

And so it goes. Jimin finds himself under your blanket that smells like fresh laundry - it’s a nude green color compared to the pleated black and white from last time. Your head is on his chest and he’s caressing your hair like it’s the softest thing he’s ever laid his hands on.

Besides your boobs, that is.

“I was thinking… since we have Monday off… maybe we could-”

It’s the way you push yourself off him, eyes that are onto him gazing straight into his soul, “oh shoot, Monday’s a public holiday. I totally forgot! I have to meet my parents. My dad’s been nagging me to come back since I skipped Christmas and New Year.”

And there goes his chance to ask you out on a date.

“Oh yeah, what were you saying about Monday?”

Jimin wears the biggest fake smile he can muster, “just that… me and the boys are gonna hang out and we’re bringing our girlfriends and boyfriends and uh- doesn’t have to be someone you’re exclusively seeing,” he almost chokes at the almost-admittance that he has the fattest crush on you and wants to make it official by inviting you to a couple’s-only hang out, “but like, I don’t think I’m going, it’s boring anyway.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play it cool.

You make a cooing sound, eyebrows knitting together as your lips pout cutely before a playful smile blooms on your face, “I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” Jimin thinks he heard his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re single and all the boys have someone special they’re gonna bring… it’s gonna be awkward as hell because they’re gonna act different because they’re around their special someone so you thought if I was there, it’d be more fun because at least you have a friend with you that’s not gonna act fake the whole time there but I can’t go so you decided you’re not going too like a minute ago.”

Silence lulls in after your analogy that you sound so sure of when, in fact, he has a whole list of things he’d do on the date which he may or may not have gone over a hundred times in his head.

Doesn’t matter now, since that date is a no-go.

He’s going to delete that list off his phone once he gets to his place and drink himself silly until he wipes it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Jimin says a moment later, “yeah… I mean, girls in love are cute but boys in love are just… annoying.”

The week flies by without Jimin ever mentioning Monday and you’ve showed him the clothes you’re going to wear to visit your parents because apparently-

“It’s lunch at some five star Michelin restaurant and I think they’re gonna tell me they’re getting a divorce,” your voice drifts into the room from the open, walk-in closet.

“If they’re not in some long, dreadful battle on who gets the holiday house with the pool and the dogs - how do I look?” You step out, in a frilly creme sweater with a black ribbon tied around the collar of your white undershirt with a black pleated skirt that stops mid-thighs, just inches from your black stockings.

A glaring contrast to your collection of washed out skinny jeans, plain t-shirts and sneakers.

“You… look…” Jimin knows he should stop openly ogling at your never-before-seen drip but there’s just something about the creme colored sweater.

“Like a good girl?” You offer with a smile Jimin couldn’t quite put a name to. Somehow he notices a trace of sadness in your eyes, but you disappear into the closet too soon.

“I’ll think about what to wear the morning I need to wear it,” you’re in the middle of pulling off the sweater when Jimin comes up behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs like they’re his.

The sound of your giggle is music to his ears.

That is, until his boner brushes against your butt and you gasp, “Chim! We just did it.”

“I know but you look so cute in that sweater.” He sounds exactly like Jeongguk. Like a fuckboy.

Like one of the boys you got tired of before you finally noticed him, the quiet, shy guy who’s friends with the outgoing, baby-faced Jeon Jeongguk whom - Jimin hates to admit it but he thinks about this every once so often and gets jealous all on his own - you’ve humped and dumped.

How you and Jeongguk still manage to stay friends and tease each other about the other’s choice of partners, Jimin doesn’t know.

It’s like a twin calling the other ugly.

He wonders if you and him will still stay friends after…

Jimin pushes the thought out of his mind. It’s not hard to forget everything when he’s with you - when he’s kissing you on the mouth like you’re the only girl he’ll want to spend the rest of his college life with and maybe his old days with together too.

“Chim, I can’t get my shirt creased,” you say but you’re already dripping wet and laying down in said shirt that’s half ridden up from him sucking and biting on your nipples.

He stopped you when you tried to take off your clothes.

“I’ll wash it and iron it for you,” he negotiates just as he rolls the condom over his length.

The sound of your giggle makes his heart skip a beat. Or maybe that’s the libido?

Either way, your mouth clamps shut when he pulls you down against him by the dip of your waist.

A different kind of hymn leaves your lips as Jimin throws his head back, relishing in the feeling of you around him.

When Monday rolls around, Jimin’s lying on the bean bag with his two legs sprawled over the floor. The boys are all out with either their significant others, working part-time or at a party.

The worn out baseball Jimin’s been tossing in the air and catching with one hand finally hits him square in the face when he hears the doorbell, signaling the presence of someone at the door and that someone being none of the boys because they would just punch in the code and strut in like they own the place.

Jimin thought maybe it’s Yoongi - the guy couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner and actually forgot the passcode to his own rental room once.

So he didn’t think to check who it was.

When your bright smile and slightly puffy eyes flash in front of him, Jimin thinks his soul just yeeted itself out of his body.

“Hey!” You sing song, holding up two plastic bags of beers and snacks.

It takes a moment for him to snap out of his stupor and grab them from your hands and then stepping aside to let you in.

“Is… everyone late or am I just early?” You sound increasingly confused as you step further into the center of the room, standing right next to the bean bag he was laying in just a moment ago.

“Oh-” he says once before he opens his mouth the second time, ready to spurt out another lie, “oh yeah… we decided not to ‘cause why hang out in a group when you can hang out with your significant other… you know, just the two of you… doing what couples do…”

“Huh,” you say, nodding though not quite believing him but you being you, easily lets it slide, plopping on the bean bag and grabbing the closest thing to you which is the ball that hit Jimin in the face - he’s sure he has a circular mark smack dab in the area on the top of his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

The dress you end up wearing is creme colored and riding up your thighs - Jimin swallows thickly and give extra attention to the bottle opener.

“So… how did lunch go?” He pops two beers open and hands one to you, taking a seat on Yoongi’s favorite couch and admiring how your dress is taking the shape of your body as gravity pulls it down.

“Oh, you know, everyone was being fake and acting like the perfect role in the family,” you put the beer down a few inches above your head so as to not tip it over with the ball you’re waving around but not throwing in the air like Jimin did.

“Sounds suffocating,” Jimin repeats a similar answer he gives whenever you use that dismissive tone while talking about your family.

“...are you okay?” Then he asks - and he’s genuinely asking - about your state of mind while casually downing the beer and feeling the bitterness lessen with every gulp.

The silence that lapses in between you is familiar.

“If I say no, can I get a hug?” It’s the look in your eyes, glimmering like the lake he used to go to in summer.

“Always,” he sets his beer down on the table next to the couch and goes over to you, standing on his knees before bending down and engulfing you in his arm.

You’ve always had a knack for picking yourself up.

When he sees you the next time, which is on instagram and a post of you having lunch with your friends, Jimin could hardly believe that’s the girl who asked him for a hug as if she’s afraid she’ll be putting him in an uncomfortable spot by asking for too much.

But there’s something…

Like an invisible wall made of ice that he can’t thaw through nor can he climb over to get to the other side where you are. Where you keep the people you love the closest. Closer than he’ll ever be.

Jeon Jeongguk is one of them.

In the picture of five people huddled close to fit in the frame, Jeongguk has his arm over you with a peace sign while you lean your head on his neck but not actually resting on it - like it’s an unconscious action you’d do because you’ve done that plenty of times.

Is it when you two were together?

Everyone he knows, knows that you and Jeongguk used to be more than just friends at some point.

Sometimes he still hears people talking about you two in passing.

‘Did ___ and Jeongguk get back together? I saw in Jeongguk’s snapstory - they were in a club or something.’

‘No way. There goes my chance of getting close with Jeongguk.’

‘Girl, with ___ hanging around him 24/7, do you think he’d look at girls like us?’

‘A girl can dream though.’

Jimin wanted to open his mouth and tell them they deserve way better than Jeon Jeongguk - though they’re not prettier than you.

He thinks you’re the loveliest girl on planet earth and if there was another life form on another planet, he’s almost a hundred percent sure you’d still be prettiest being in the universe with your obsession for skinny jeans and the way you’d unconsciously pout when he talks about how things weren’t going his way that day as if you would’ve exchanged your abundance of luck with his shitty one just because you’ve got that big of a heart and how you’d be walking with your friends, laughing and giggling and when you see him, you’d wave at him like you’re good friends.

Second only to Jeongguk and your friend group that you’re always hanging out with.

“Oh, ___? We were childhood friends.”

“Hmm… Gguk and I became friends because our parents are friends.”

The two of them say at different times and settings when Jimin asked, trying to play it cool. Like he isn’t just brimming with jealousy. Like he’s not half-way to losing his mind because the girl of his dreams just went to a retreat with his friend-of-a-friend-turned-actual-friend together when everyone else in the group who was excitedly planning for the trip - couldn’t make it.

The rooms at the inn weren’t even pre-booked. It was owned by Jeongguk’s family and they didn’t deposit any money for the trip for them to rationalize going on that trip anyway despite everyone else not being to go.

“The trip? It was fun, if you want we can go together next time.”

Jimin isn’t sure if you even mean that when he asked how the trip went after you’re glistening with the glow of after sex and scrolling through instagram, liking posts of everyone you know.

But then three months later, on your break, Jimin is hit with a ‘keep your schedule free next week for a whole week!!!’

Then he finds himself at a five star hotel by the beach with the most breathtaking view of the sea.

It wasn’t the inn owned by the Jeon’s but Jimin liked the fact that you brought him to a place - and he hopes his assumptions are true - your friends have never been before. Especially Jeongguk.

“Woah, this place is better than I thought,” a king sized bed lies directly across from the balcony where you’re standing, hair flying behind your back as the seaside breeze blows into the room.

“We can watch the sun rise and set from our bed,” Jimin comments for the sake of saying something.

He’s not sure what this means. He’s not sure if he should be having a boner at the thought of the two of you being together for a whole week without any other person getting in the way. He’s not sure if his heart should be thumping this fast.

For the first time since he’s known you, Park Jimin is the most unsure he’s ever been.

“You know what I wanna watch?” Your hands slip in his as you stand between him and the open balcony door, “you under me, biting your lips because you’re still shy about the sound you make.”

So when you tug him back into the bedroom just minutes after checking in, naturally, Park Jimin follows like he’s been bewitched by your ungodly beauty.

Once the one week of nothing but heavenly morning wishes and passionate night kisses - oh, there was more than just kissing but Jimin remembers how your lips meld so perfectly together with his the most - Jimin is sure.

‘Something definitely changed.’

He thinks maybe it’s not impossible to dream of a future with you even after college.

“Jimin I-... I’m not at a point in life to be thinking about relationships,” you say, hand gripping your arm, head lowered as if your whole body is saying sorry.

“O-oh,” is all he says, he hearts his heart breaking and his chest caving.

All of a sudden, the lights in Gangnam city doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

You both live your last year pretending like the other doesn’t exist. He doesn’t look at you when he passes you and neither did you. Only talks to Jeongguk even though you’re right next to the aforementioned man - granted you were talking with your other friends like you didn’t even notice him there.

But Jimin’s never felt so invisible in his life than he does now.

Then, graduation rolls around and he thinks finally, he won’t have to walk through the hallway and pretend like he didn’t see you. Don't have to keep a five feet distance whenever you meet up for a group project.

Park Jimin doesn’t need to see your pretty face and starry eyes anymore.

“Jimin… do you have a minute?”

Or so he thought.

“So… congrats on surviving college,” you make small talk while standing just ten feet away from the boys whom he’s sure are speculating on what you’re talking about.

Jimin never got to prove to his friends that you’re not the mean, name-forgetting girl they all thought.

Jeongguk knows you’re not. He’s always backing Jimin up when Jimin’s debunking their passing accusations about you.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people but doesn’t mean one of them is the bad guy.” Jeongguk's words put an end to their debate of whether Jimin deserved better than you or not.

For someone young, Jeongguk spoke his mind decidedly.

Jimin felt ashamed that he’d ever been jealous of Jeongguk’s relationship with you.

“I just… didn’t wanna leave things on a bad note. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I said no but I really like spending time with you - whether it’s sex or just staying over and cuddling for hours… I like it all.” You say the word sex and cuddle like they’re used interchangeably and Jimin thinks his heart just fluttered.

And you’d said it in public where your everyone can see or possibly pick up on what you were saying, at that.

Well, one thing’s for sure, you’ve got bigger balls than he does.

“My feelings are the same as six months ago and call me crazy but I don’t think you dislike me either.” He finally says and it feels like a deadweight has been lifted off his shoulders.

There comes that pout, as if something is bothering you and you always ever pout like that when that something concerns him.

“You kidding me? I can never dislike you.”

The Jimin from six months ago would have stared at you with disbelief and a dust of pink on his cheeks. But the Jimin he is now simply smiles, heart thumping in his chest. He nods.

“Thanks for telling me that,” and Jimin knows that’s the closest to an ‘I like you’ he can get with the girl who builds an ice fortress around her heart.

A whole year passes by and Jimin finds himself in different shades of grey every day, working at his dad’s company and attending dinner meetings. Life comes to a standstill while time passes him by.

“So, like, you have a sports car, right? Why don’t you come over to the race circuit after dinner? Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Jeongguk tells him over the phone.

And by ‘everyone’ he means the sons and daughters in the corporate world. It’s networking at its finest.

When he’s there, three cars are already racing in the circuit. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt isn’t exactly his favorite but they have cheap booze instead of fine wine and he knows the people here are in for the same thing as he is.

An escape.

Away from the grandeur of fine wine and dinner dresses and the elders breathing down their necks and having to act like the next heir to the legacy they were born to carry.

“That Chevrolet over there,” Jeongguk comes, hand on Jimin’s back as his other one that’s holding a bottle of beer points at a red car that looks like a racing fireball, “everyone’s betting on that one tonight.”

Jimin doesn’t know there’s a bet.

“I’ll skip the bet this time ‘round. Haven’t seen the driver yet,” he shrugs dismissively.

Even in stock investment, he’d learned to study the market first before placing his best bet.

Jeongguk leaves his side when his friends - he’s got new ones now - beckons him over. At the same time, the Chevrolet passes the finish line seconds before the Ford Mustang and McLaren 720s, making it the winner of the night.

The driver seems like a show off with the way the car rolls up to the audience, the sound of its engines revving into the night being met with cheers of half-drunk young adults.

Arrogance is a man’s downfall.

Jimin’s about to turn around and head for the exit when the door of the car gets pushed open. The driver steps out, decked in black and red leather jeans and jackets that seem to match the car.

But it’s the smooth, silken hair that cascades past the helmet that catches his eyes.

Park Jimin’s seen many arrogant men in his life but he’s only ever seen one woman with balls and looks good wearing them.

“___! ___! ___!” The crowd starts cheering as you pull off the helmet, holding it underneath your arm and waist.

Your eyes are as brilliant as the night sky full of stars. They’re tinged with shock and then recognition. And finally, you smile that gorgeous smile that gets you misunderstood often as a woman who doesn’t need anything or anyone but uses them as they come.

But Park Jimin knows better than anyone, how wholeheartedly happy that smile looks when you see him.

Like meeting a good friend after a long time.

Seven months down the road, Jimin finds himself with just a blanket draped over his waist while you’re taking a shower in his bathroom to get ready to head to Hong Kong for a business trip.

He hears the sound of the shower head being turned off. The tapping of your foot around his bedroom as you pick up your clothes that are strewn all over the floor.

Then the bed dips ever so gently under your weight as you climb over to him, the fresh scent of shower get filling his senses. Lips press a deep, lingering kiss on his. As if you don’t want to go to a place where he won’t be.

A few socials and midnight races after his first meeting with you after a long time, you asked him if he’s seeing someone.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” It’s playful at first, because Jimin didn’t want to get himself hurt the second time.

But it’s the way you tilted your head, a finger tapping on your chin as you pondered on his words, “that’s a problem because I don’t want to be that girl that steals another girl’s man,” then you looked at him like you know he’s the one you want to wake up to every morning and the last face you see when you sleep at night and if you can’t have that. then-

“Can you be mine… just for tonight?”

“I don’t think I can.” The crestfallen expression you wear makes his own heart break, even if it’s just for a split second-

“Because I’m not seeing anyone but I’m in that point in life where I want a serious relationship or nothing at all.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is how he doesn’t want a relationship if it’s not with the girl who still haunts his dreams even after all this time.

Just like how you’d turned him down because you weren’t looking to be in a relationship before, you’d courted Jimin like you’d want to spend your whole life with him now.

Flowers got sent to his office everyday until it smells nothing short of floral. You’d be there, waving at him like he’s your savior in that dreadful social you were both attending. Every week, you’d plan dinner dates under the guise of catching up.

Before you race, you’d look over to where he’s standing, as if saying ‘this one’s for you’ before slipping into your car and coming out first every single time.

As if you were making up for every month of the year that you’d let life pass you by.

Now you’ve won a total of 36 races since he met you and the metal band you gifted him on the night of your 12th win feels warm against his skin. As if it’s absorbed all the love and adoration you poured into it.

And you’re wearing that ring he got you on your birthday on your finger that’s resting on his chest where his heart is as he kisses you back just as reluctant to let you leave.

But Park Jimin knows wherever you are, wherever you will be - you will always find your way back to each other.

Back home.

#bts smut #jimin smut #bts fics #jimin fic #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #bts x you #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jimin fics #bts fic #bts fanfics #jimin fanfics #jimin scenarios #bts scenarios

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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Kickstart My Heart Pt.1 (Racer! Yeosang)

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Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, 80s AU.

Summary: During an era known for its vibrant colors, eccentric fashion styles and rise of new yet unconventional genres of music, the young generation of that time was infamously known for their need to rebel and live their lives rather scandalously and Y/N is no exception. So when a new and attractive man moves into her town, she has her eyes set on making him her next boy toy.

Word Count: 4K+

Warnings: Dumb attempts at crackhead humor, reader is a cold hearted bitch, guy gets dumped in public, reader's friend is lowkey creepy.

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Throwing on the last article of clothing that had been discarded the night before, the young woman shook out her hair, still damp from the quick shower she just took. Picking up her bag, she looked over at the figure still sleeping soundly, the subtle hint of a smile on his face. With a pitied pout on her lips, she walked over to the edge where his face was. Taking out the lipstick tube from her bag, she applied it all over her lips, painting them in the dark burgundy color that she fancied so much and had practically become her signature hue. Bending over, she pressed her lips against the corners of his mouth, giving him the faintest whisper of a kiss before pulling away. A satisfied smirk was plastered on her pretty features as she stared at the lipstick mark on his face, the only memoir she'd leave him with as she had done with countless others.

Closing the front door behind her, she pulled her denim jacket tighter on her body, shivering slightly from the early dawn's breeze that blew across. It was always like that even though summer had just begun, the early morning hours still feeling obnoxiously cool and then transpiring into slightly uncomfortably warm afternoons that had more than one soul in that quaint town grumbling and fussing about the weather. But oh did the evenings feel absolutely refreshing, and that's when everything would start bustling to life.

Having finally made it out of that small residential area and finding one of the main roads that helped her locate where to go, she started heading south towards the all too familiar diner where she had been working in ever since her school days, first starting part time and eventually transpiring to full time when it came time for her to spread her wings and fly out on her own, a feat she had been most anxious to do to get away from the overly controlling nature of her parents. She knew they cared about her, but she herself cared very little about the morals and principles they had raised her with, a common trait all the young people in that town shared: their rebellious and headstrong nature to not conform and go against everything they had been taught thus far. Live their own lives as freely as they chose to do.

And she definitely lived as she wanted to, even if it ended up with a rather bad reputation and ugly labels that rather than infuriate her, she openly embraced, as others had come to as well.

The light twinkle of the bells above the glass door let the person at the register know someone came in and they immediately plastered on their business smile, which quickly faded when they saw who it was.

"You're late Y/N." The minuscule raven haired waitress informed her, eyes never leaving her coworker's figure that came behind the counter and started punching in her number.

"Only by like 7 minutes." She waved her slip at the nonchalant looking girl before placing it back in its respective slot.

"One day it wouldn't surprise me if you just didn't show up because you got too caught up in.... something else."

Chuckling softly, Y/N walked up behind her coworker, hands coming up to ruffle the cheekbone level bob cut hair framing her unusually small face.

"Awww come on Lynn, you know I'd never leave you hanging here to attend customers by yourself. You're my bestie." Y/N assured her, playfully poking her lips out as she tried to place a kiss on her friend, the poor girl craning her neck away as she tended to dislike physical affection.

"I will squirt ketchup on you." Lynn threatened as she picked up the cherry red bottle as a last resort to get her attacker to back away. A rather noisy struggle ensued between both girls, catching the attention of the owner and cook behind the two doors, prompting her to come out and see what was the cause of such ruckus.

"Well I'll be darned. I don't remember paying you youngsters to simply slack off and behave like the hooligans you are." The middle aged woman spoke up, her thick accent becoming more prominent. Although she had a stern look and hands placed at her hips, the girls knew she was not in reality angry at them.

Looking over at the recently arrived girl, the owner closed her eyes and sighed deeply when she took in the attire she was wearing: low cut white tank, ripped denim shorts that left little to the imagination if she bent down, fishnet tights with a few holes in them, and her beloved denim jacket that was almost always on Y/N's body.

"I swear to god, Y/N , everytime I see you wear them rags you call clothes, I feel like my body is about to collapse. Why must you insist on dressing like a common street worker?"

Y/N wasn't at all offended by her words, having grown used to and becoming fond of her boss's abrupt, direct and honest manner of speaking.

"Gotta start looking the part if I'm going to dedicate my life to the occupation." She giggled at her own joke, resulting in the older woman taking the rag off her apron and smacking her with it.

"This little runt, talking nonsense like that- get your ass back in there and change into your uniform. Can't have you prancing around here in those skimpy clothes and have all these men that come here say disrespectful things about you. Nuh uh, not to my girls." She shook her head.

"Yes Miss Audrey." Complying with the woman's wishes, she pushed open the swing doors leading to the back and quickly made her way to the corner where all the employee's cubicles were located. Grabbing the necessary items, she turned and went inside the bathroom to change into her uniform, consisting of a knee length crimson red dress, which she had actually altered so it would be shorter and display her thighs more, the cap sleeves slightly puffed up and the torso part had a trail of white buttons going all the way up to the modest v-neckline, usually most buttons were left undone so her cleavage would shamelessly peak out. Exchanging her black Doc Martens in favor of her white Nike sneakers, Y/N tied her apron around her waist, making sure it was as tight as possible so it would accentuate her curves and give her body a more flattering appearance. As she made her way out, she quickly piled her hair up before securing it with one of the many elastics she kept around her wrists, leaving out a few tendrils to fall on her temples.

Coming back out to start her daily work, she stood in front of Lynn, who merely spared her an unamused glance.

"How do I look?" Y/N asked.

"Like a total slut." Her friend answered in her usually rude way.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed a spray bottle and a rag. Making her way over to the table that had just finished being used, she quickly picked up the plates and glass, bringing them back over to where Lynn was, who took them so she could wash them in the sink. Spraying the top of the marble piece, she had began her task of wiping down the table when the ringing of the bell signaled new customers had arrived, and rowdy ones at that too.

"Damn! Is today's special fluffy sponge cake? Cause I would sure love a piece of that ass."

Y/N recognized that annoying voice even from miles away, belonging to none other than one of her old classmates, Jung Wooyoung, whom she considered a friend, if he didn't manage to irk her too much. Turning around, she of course wasn't surprised to see him surrounded by his crew of equally idiotic and adrenaline junkie friends, whom she had to admit were pleasant and fun to hang out with.

"Sit your asses down already, I'll be over in a minute to take your order." She told them before resuming her previous task, earning a scoff from the most dramatic of the group.

"Fine customer service! Don't think you'll be getting a tip from me." His words made her nearly burst into a fit of giggles.

"Wooyoung please, you never ever tip whenever you come. None of you, except Yunho." It kinda saddened her that said male unfortunately wasn't there with them at the moment.

"He doesn't tip you, he tips short stack over there." His friend with cat like eyes pointed towards Lynn, who upon overhearing him held up a rather explicit finger in his direction.

"I'll poison your food San." She threatened with a sing song tone.

"Like I wouldn't know that you already spit on it." San spat back, sticking his tongue out in his immature and infantile fashion.

"Can you guys hurry up and order already? I'm starving and we gotta head to the tracks as early as possible." The fiery red haired male known as Song Mingi blurted out, fingers tapping impatiently against the top of the table.

"If little miss g-string would care to hop her luscious ass over here, maybe we could."

Strutting over to where they sat, Y/N harshly threw the dirty rag on Wooyoung's face, causing a faint grunt to come out of his mouth.

"No matter how many times you mention my ass, I'm still not letting you tap it." She firmly stated, making Wooyoung slightly purse his lips outwards in a disappointed grimace.

"So anygays-" Mingi began.

"Umm I think you mean anyways." San corrected him.

Leaning in towards him, Mingi locked eyes on the shorter male and stared him down with an intimidating glare.

"Did I stutter Choi?"

San immediately shook his head rapidly. With a victory smile, Mingi reclined back in his seat.

"I'm just going to get the breakfast platter with some orange juice."

Y/N couldn't stifle her snort when he said his choice of drink, the other two men looking away in embarrassment.

"You've been drinking orange juice since you were in grade school Mingles, don't you think you outta start taking something more grown up? Like coffee?" San suggested and Mingi did not appreciate it.

"Coming from the one who still brings a plushie to sleep with him, your suggestion holds no value or power." He retorted.

"OK SHIBER IS NOT A PLUSHIE, HE'S FAMILY YOU JACKASS!" San sprinted up from his seat, nearly leaning across to grab Mingi by the color, but he was held back by Wooyoung.

Lynn, who had thus far stayed quiet, promptly came up with a spray bottle and consequently doused the untamed boy on his face.

"Bad kitty, bad kitty." She reprimanded him, unable to resist the opportunity to attack her long time frenemy.

"Lynn!" Y/N looked at her with surprise.

"You're welcome." Lynn replied rather monotone before going back to her place behind the counter like she didn't just spray San with disinfecting water.

"There's too many germs going around anyways..." She muttered under her breath.

Without any further interruptions, aside from the rumbling coming out of the boys' stomachs, they finished ordering what they wanted and Y/N sent it over so they could be prepared. Not wanting to be near their loud asses, Y/N went back over to where Lynn was, peeking over to see what she was currently reading in the magazine she held.

"What you reading?" She casually inquired.

"Horoscope section." Y/N wasn't surprised, her friend tended to be into more mystical, eccentric and rather.....extreme with her taste in fashion and music. If Y/N was the one who turned heads for her scandalous attire, Lynn was the one people turned away from in fear when they saw how she dressed. It was a sight that truly made both of them laugh at people's foolishness, well at least made Y/N laugh. Her friend rarely had any other expression plastered on that wasn't utter disdain for society and life.

Unexpectedly, another customer came in. Both girls looked at each other in confusion when neither of them recognized him. Their town was rather small with few people living there, so they deduced that he must be a traveler who probably got lost on his route. He himself looked around nervously, eyes barely lifting up. Y/N couldn't help herself as she took in his perfect face. Big, round eyes with crystal clear orbs, small face with a V-line jaw, perfectly sculpted nose with no sign of defects, skin smooth and blemish free, he looked like a prince out of a fairytale. He was incredibly pretty, yet stood there so awkwardly that it was almost comical.

"Hey Yeosang! You made it! Sit down! I ordered for you in advanced!" Wooyoung surprised both girls when it seemed he knew the stranger and even waved him over to where they sat. The other two boys also seem familiarized with him and welcomed him to sit with them, chatting up a storm already with him.

"Who's that?" Lynn was the one to finally ask out loud.

"Beats me.....but he sure is adorable."

Noticing the way her lips curled upwards, Lynn could already see the wheels inside Y/N's head turning.

"And I bet you're going to go over there and find out- aaand there you go." She ended up answering her own deduction as she watched Y/N happily walked over with a more bright expression on her face, that soon soured when her boss came out of the kitchen and beat her over to the table, laying down several plates of food.

"I knew as soon as I saw the orders that it had to be the lot of you." She scoffed softly as she looked at the boys' grinning faces.

"You know us Miss Audrey, we wouldn't ever think of eating anywhere else but here. You're the best cook in all of town." Wooyoung praised her with a sparkling charm that could have fooled anyone else but not the robust woman in front of him.

"Boy stop trying to tickle my ears, I've known you since you were in your soiled diapers being carried around by your mama, running around and creating chaos anywhere you went. Flattery may work on them poor girls you play with but me? I can see right through ruffians like you."

Turning her head to finally notice the new addition to the group, she looked him up and down.

"Boy who might you be?" She questioned him, earning the ears of the girls nearby to listen in for any valuable information.

"I'm..... Yeosang Kang, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, tilting his head slightly down when he said that.

"He just moved into town this week! He's the new guy who is going to work with us down at the car shop and help on the race track!" San enthusiastically shouted, making the older woman cringe.

"I may be old, but I still haven't gone deaf for you to yell in such a way boy. So...." She crossed her arms and looked at Yeosang again.

"You a racer too?"

Now the girls, particularly Y/N, were more interested in what his response would be.

"I- yes. So it seems." The poor boy looked so flustered, obviously being more of a soft spoken individual, contrasting starkly to the other 3 boys.

Miss Audrey let out a seemingly displeased hum at his answer.

"As if we needed anymore hooligans running wild. We already got enough with the 3 Stooges over here."

The girls couldn't help but snicker at their boss's words, always having a blast whenever she put the boys back in their place. They however looked displeased, glaring at them intensely.

"Shouldn't you both be off somewhere cleaning dishes or making sandwiches?"

Snatching one of the knifes, Lynn held it up and was about to jump over, but Y/N came up in front of her.

"Lynn, no. Just calm down ok? You know they're just being idiots." Y/N reminded her.

Grumbling something in a foreign language no one knew for sure if it was real or not, Lynn put the knife back, squinting her eyes at them before turning around to not look at them again. Y/N giggled softly, finding it absolutely cute whenever her friend lost her cool and collected form cause it reminded her of a chihuahua, barking and yelping at anything larger than itself trying to establish dominance.

Noticing that in her display of aggression, Lynn had inadvertently knocked over a few of the brochures that were on display for people to take, Y/N stooped down and proceeded to pick them up in a casual manner. Standing up, she neatly arranged them properly, making sure they all faced the same direction and the sides weren't poking out anywhere. Feeling as though someone had been watching her all along, she looked at the table of boys, half expecting Wooyoung's smug grin to greet her, but she was completely wrong as it was none other than the new guy who seemed unable to keep his eyes off her figure, staring intently at the length of her skirt. When he realized she noticed, his eyes went wide, cheeks burning up with utter embarrassment. Y/N however seemed unbothered by this. Wanting to test something, she pretended to accidentally drop one of the pamphlets. Bending over, she made sure he could get a perfect glimpse of her cleavage, if he payed enough attention, he'd be able to see that she was in fact, not wearing any bra. Coming back up, Y/N looked over to see the results, smirking when the agape mouth of Yeosang confirmed to her that he had indeed noticed everything.

"Oh sweetheart, you're gonna be too easy..." She had already made up in her mind that Yeosang would be her next target, and she had to put her plan in action. Placing the brochures down, she was about to go over and start flirting with him, until a familiar voice called for her.

"Y/N! There you are!"

She internally groaned when she heard him, wondering why on earth did he not get the hint of ditching him like that, especially when he very well knew about the reputation she had. She tried ignoring him, but of course, he had had to be the persistent type, no doubt thinking he was going to have a different ending than the rest before him.

"I thought you'd be here. You could have told me you were going to be gone early. I would have made you breakfast."

Knowing she had to say something, Y/N grabbed her pad and gave him the fakest smile she was capable of donning.

"Hi, what can we get started for you today? Waffles? Eggs and bacon? Coffee to start off with?"

The trio of friends, having no choice but to witness the interaction due to it happening right in front of them, snickered amongst themselves.

"Oh shit. He's in for it." San whispered lowly.

The boy obviously looked extremely confused, his smile lightly falling off, but then returning to its hopeful state.

"Why are you acting like this candy bear? Pretending like you don't know me?" When he tried to reach a hand to pull her close, the girl simply pushed him away with one of her fingers.

"Look, clearly you're too stupid to understand so let me spell it out in a language you can understand." Letting out a tired sigh, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, a sour look displaying on her pretty face.

"We had a nice time together, and last night was... average to put it nicely."

"Oh man. That was a total burn." Mingi couldn't help but snort, some of the orange juice being spit back into his glass.

"But that was all it was and all it's ever going to be. So why don't you do yourself a favor and just go back home to your Star Trek figurines and watch the latest episode of Thunder Cats?"

The not so discreet snickering coming from the table behind them only made the humiliation for the man multiply significantly. Turning red with utter despair and rage, he quickly brushed past Y/N rather brusquely.

"Fucking bitch." She heard him mutter under his breath, a phrase she had grown accustomed to hearing among many others.

"Oh god. Homegirl struck again." Wooyoung laughed, swirling his milkshake in his hand.

"Ayo why you gotta do Thunder Cats like that? It's actually pretty entertaining." San commented.

Looking over at the time, the guys quickly stood up, dropping their share of bills onto the table.

"You guys get paid today too right? Come meet up with us at the track." Wooyoung suggested.

"Why on earth would we want to go see your greasy, oil smelling ass after dealing for nearly an hour with you already?" Lynn questioned him, eyes never peering up from her magazine.

"Because Yunho would be there?"

Still she didn't respond, the only movement made was her finger turning the page.

"Bro we been knew she don't give two shits about him." Mingi reminded them.

"Because we're going to the drive in theater after work, they're playing a horror movie."

Lifting her gaze, Lynn closed the magazine, although still stone faced, her eyes seemed to brighten up.

"My interest has been greatly piqued." Her lips showed the faintest whisper of a smile that gave a rather eerie and chilling feel down the people's spines.

"Maybe we should rethink inviting Satan's offspring." San leaned in towards Mingi, shivering significantly.

"Great! So we'll catch you gals later."

The boys quickly dispersed themselves, save Yeosang who still sat quietly, keeping mostly to himself. His fingers fidgeted with the half drunk cup he was holding, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Looking up, he was attempting to work up the courage to talk to Y/N, but before he could even get the chance to gather strength, the owner came out from the back, whispering a few orders to her and gesturing for her to go tend to a situation in the kitchen. With a defeated sigh, he got up to go join the rest of the gang outside who were waiting for him. Slumping his hands in the pockets of his pants, he moved out of the booth with a solemn gaze.

"Hey."

His steps came to a screeching halt when he heard Y/N call out to him. Looking over, she smiled sweetly in his direction.

"Hope I see you later." With a flirtatious wink, she bid him goodbye as she disappeared into the back.

Yeosang stood there stunned momentarily, replaying her words over and over again in his mind, pondering endlessly at their meaning.

"Little pussy cat sure got you brain dead, didn't she?"

Startled by the unexpected voice next to him, he jumped when the face of the kind yet stern old lady studied him carefully. With a disapproving shake of her head, she decided it'd be best to warn him before he started getting ideas in his head.

"Listen, you seem like a sweet and sensible young man, so it's best for you to listen to me and stay away from that darn girl. Don't let them sugar coated lips of hers sweet talk themselves into your heart. You'll just end up heart broken like all the lovers she's had."

Picking up some of the plates, she gave him one last look, pointing an accusatory finger at him to get her point across.

"She's dangerous." Finally saying what she needed to say, Miss Audrey headed back with plates in her arms, slapping away Lynn's hands when they attempted to pry them off her, barking instructions at her to watch the counter and leave her be.

"Dangerous....." Yeosang thought to himself, the warning the good intended woman gave him sinking deep in his mind. Although he took her words to heart, something about the way she glanced at him pulled at the strings in his chest, taking his breath away when he remembered the risque position she was in that purposely allowed him to view more than he should have. That memory tinted his cheeks pink, lips unable to suppress a small smile. He knew that he should heed the old woman's advice.

But he had to admit that he loved danger and the thrill it came with.........

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @brie02 @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @hanatiny @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @mingismoon @rainteez02

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aaesuki · 3 years

Text

growing pains

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

cw/tw: fluff, little bit of angst

wc: 4k

summary: suna had always been a little shit, but you loved that little shit regardless.

A spark from the handheld firework jumps onto your hand and you quickly drop it while screeching. The figure beside you cackles at your misfortune and puts out his own firework.

“Stop laughing at me, Suna. It hurts,” you whine. He only wheezes harder, dropping onto the ground, clutching his stomach. Your face burns in embarrassment and you lightly kick him in the leg. Wiping his tears, he sits up with a content sigh.

The summer heat beats down yet it was already late into the night. The lights from the traffic and cars in front of the house flash by, drawing moving shadows beneath your feet. Suna nudges you a little too hard with his elbow, forcing an annoyed groan out of you.

“You excited for middle school? We’re gonna be grown ups.” His eyes sparkle with enthusiasm at the thought of the freedom that came with middle school.

“You watch too much TV, Suna. Middle school probably isn’t as great as Sailor Moon, you know? We won’t be saving the Earth anytime soon.” You use the snuffed out firework stick to draw random shapes on the ground.

A chubby hand reaches for your stick, tugging it out of your hand. “It won’t be boring with you here. You always manage to get yourself into tons of trouble,” he says, adding to your nonsensical drawing. You snicker at his deformed drawing. Standing up and brushing his pants off, he whines at your teasing. You look at his pretty, red face (he always flushed easily) and make another remark about his ugly...whatever that was supposed to be.

The summer before middle school, being the child you were, you had thought Suna would stay with you forever. Your world was tiny, only filled with the people in the house behind you and Suna, your bestest friend, as he had proclaimed. And with a smile on your face, you pulled out two new handheld fireworks from the plastic bag and lit them up.

With middle school comes pimples, outgrown clothes, and the sudden need to know everything about Suna’s crushes. Though he insists he doesn’t like anyone with a face void of emotion, you see how he eyes the pretty girl in the fourth seat in the second row, right beside the window whenever he comes by your class for lunch. Everyday after school, you report back to him about what your classmates said she likes and doesn’t like.

The summer crickets sing their songs as the little elementary schoolers race down the streets. To think just some years ago they were Suna and you. Nostalgia was such a wonderful thing. Sometimes you wished you and him hadn’t grown up so quickly.

“Suna,” you sigh, “if you like her then just say so! You are making this much more difficult than it needs to be!” Another two summers and the streets were still hot enough to bake shit on the sidewalk.

“I told you I don’t like her,” he scowls while pulling on his shirt. “Stop being so annoying.”

You groan and wipe the sticky sweat on your forehead. Your face contorts into disgust, flicking your sweaty hands in the air. “If you don’t tell her now, she might die of an incurable sickness and next thing you know you’re roped into a dramatic shoujo manga.”

Yes, you have often forced Suna to read your new favorite shoujo manga every month. Witnessing the story of young love filled your heart with fluff and marshmallows, though Suna would only critique everything he hated about the male lead.

“That shoujo shit isn’t real. And I already said I don’t like her.” With his back on your kitchen floor, he attempts to whack you in the head. Annoyed, you swipe at his sticky hands before collapsing next to him from exhaustion. This summer heat was really sucking the energy out of your asshole.

“We only have one year left. If you don’t do it now you’ll regret it. And if I’ve learned anything from reading shoujo manga, regret is the thing that kills. The male lead will be standing on a street, wondering where he went wrong when—boom!— a car crashes into him and a dramatic montage of him flipping through the air plays for five minutes.”

“If getting hit by a car and getting isekai’d into a new world is enough to get away from your annoying ass then I’ll gladly take it,” he snorts with that ugly cackle of his.

You extend your leg and kick into his stomach. “It’s not like any anime girl would want you when a perfectly handsome male lead is there,” you grumble. “You’re ugly.”

“No, you.”

“Shut up, Rinrin,” you tease, mocking him with the nickname the pretty girl gave him.

He flushes a bright pink, exacerbated by the heat, and tackles you. Reaching for your ticklish spots, he shows no mercy in making you squirm from discomfort. After you shove your foot in his face, the two of you are left heaving in a pool of sweat on the cold kitchen floor. He quietly calls out your name and you answer in a grunt.

“I think we’re moving.”

One more summer later, the excited chattering of third year middle schoolers are spread throughout the school. You were finally moving on to high school, unfortunately without Suna. Today was the day his presence would grace this loud city.

You stared up at the bright pink sakura trees above the bench you two were sitting on. “Aren’t they supposed to be falling down and fluttering into my hair? That’s how anime usually works right?” You tried desperately to keep your mind off of his eventual departure. To think that your best friend since the womb would no longer be by your side every day stung like a blistered lip in soy sauce.

He looks at you with a deadpan expression. “You really are an idiot. I need to leave soon. Mom says I have to double check I packed everything before we leave for Hyogo.”

Of course, it was inevitable to not address the elephant in the room. If you didn’t know better, your childish, selfish self would’ve thought that he wanted to get away from you. “Did you pack Mr. Crocodile?” Mr. Crocodile was a stuffed toy Suna won for you at a summer festival years ago but you had given it back after feeling guilty when he didn’t win anything else. “He might haunt you if you leave him under your bed.”

He looks at you incredulously but nods, his head tilting to lay on your shoulder. You fight the urge to push him off when his smooth hair tickles your neck. “Suna, your hair— itchy—”

“I like you,” he mutters quietly.

You’re shocked still before you sigh in disbelief. “No you don’t.”

Suna laughs one last time before saying, “I’ll miss you.” You nod your head, not trusting your voice to speak as hot tears race down your face.

What do you want to do once you’re out of high school?

Despite only being in your second year, the pressure of graduation slowly consumed your thoughts. Now that you’re taking the time to really think about it, you realize that you don’t really have any hobbies. Back then, it’d just be whatever Suna was into, switching from art to fishing to board games. With him gone, everyday was just filled with studying and motionlessly watching TV.

Shoujo manga no longer brought you happiness or fluffy feelings. All it did was remind you that you were in love with your best friend who was miles away from you and probably didn’t even like you back. Seeing couples, even if they were fictional, being all happy and carefree only brought out bitter resentment. Suna was right about shoujo manga being unrealistic.

A little jingle from your phone distracts you from your thoughts. Two messages from Suna. It’s a video capturing the two twins—who you’ve gotten a lot of pictures and videos of—smacking each other to the ground with Suna staring into the camera with his signature smug face. You let out a breathy laugh and begin to type a response.

I miss you. No, no that won’t do. You press backspace until there’s nothing left in the little box. You pondered and pondered. Someone all that time away from him took away all the words you wanted to say. Lol. Wish I were there to see it in person. Your melancholic face stares back at you in the black screen of your phone. Since when did talking to Suna become so difficult? Another notification from Suna pops up on the screen.

Visit me.

So now it’s winter break and you’re lost at the subway station. From your phone, Suna’s muttering directions that you don’t understand because the sounds of office workers and students are too loud. Twenty minutes pass before Suna and the twins find you scared out of your mind next to a gift shop.

Suna had always been a big kid but now instead of being a round circle, he’s a lanky rectangle. Not being able to see him mature into what he was now kind of made you jealous of the people at school. Was he one of the popular kids? Well, he was in the volleyball club and they're pretty popular. Your face twists into a scowl. To embarrass yourself even further, the first words that come out of your mouth are a sarcastic “Wow…”

He bursts out laughing with the twins looking at each other in confusion. “What’s with that reaction? Are you surprised that I turned out this handsome?” He continues chuckling to himself, wiping the tears out of his eyes.

“Actually, I think you got uglier,” you retort, not willing to admit he had really (emphasis on really) grown into his features.

“Sunarin, you never told us your friend was so pretty. Why didn’t you ever show us a picture of them!” The blonde one whines. His brother shakes his fist in agreement. Suna kicks both of them and tells them to shut up. There is a sort of bitterness that comes with seeing your friend being happy with other people. You really didn’t have anyone one back home and witnessing him laughing so carefreely with the Miya twins got your gut churning. Before your tears can form out of frustration, Suna pulls you to his side, wrapping a long arm around your shoulder, and asks you where you want to go first. The arcade? The cafe? Maybe the beach?

You really don’t know. What do friends do in their free time? You had long forgotten the feeling of picking a random location and having fun regardless. What does Suna like to do? “Oh, can I watch you play volleyball?”

The school gym smells like a familiar kind of weird, but reminds you of your own school’s gym. Funny how they all smell the same. A group of boys shout their greetings as they slowly pile into the gym. They eye you curiously and warily, like you were a potentially dangerous dog. You awkwardly nod your head and tighten your grip on your bag. They all look so scary.

The sound of squeaking shoes against the gym floorboards becomes louder as Suna jogs over. “I seriously didn’t think you would want to see us play after coming miles from Aicha. You could always just rewatch the videos I send you.” He looks at you from the corners of his eyes. He’s painfully aware of the increasing tension between you two. Of course, it was natural for friends to drift apart if they weren’t always together but it still feels disturbing.

“I guess, I just wanted to see you in your natural habitat,” you laugh, “Never would’ve thought you’d like volleyball so much when you despise moving.”

“Yeah, well it just brings a special feeling to me.” You watch as he fiddles with his fingers. Compared to the smooth soft skin from his childhood, they were now calloused at the palms from practice, showing his dedication to his pride and joy. There’s a slight smile on his face, just small enough to express his passion. A feeling of nostalgia and relief washes over you. He may have grown two feet taller but he was still that little chubby boy from three years ago.

A beat of silence passes before you lay your head down onto his shoulder. “I miss you.” You try to etch this moment into the back of your eyelids: the shouts of the other members fading into the background, the smell of the cologne you shipped to him for his birthday, the warmth from his thigh passing over yours, his erratically beating heart, the feeling of calmness.

What do you want to do once you’re out of high school? You want to stay by his side. Maybe you’ll even have a ring on your finger and when he serves, he’ll smile up at you in the stands and you’ll giggle out of embarrassment and pride—

“I have a girlfriend.”

Jolting up from surprise, you nearly fall off the bench. “Oh. Uh, that’s nice, I guess,” you nod. All your dreams were crushed with such a short and simple sentence. You ought to be happy for him, right? He’s having the time of his life here. He has a group of friends. He has a girlfriend that probably loves him as much as you do. Does she treat him right? Is she pretty? But before you can ask, the captain calls him over.

Your eyes are not on the game. In fact, they’re stuck on the floor as you wallow in guilt and self-pity. How foolish had you been? Of course he’d be happy here. He has everything here while you were left with nothing.

You feel guilty for being jealous. Jealous of his girlfriend for being able to kiss and hold him every day. Jealous of his friends for being able to watch him flourish. Jealous of him for having his life all figured out. Were you a bad person for hating him a little bit? Probably.

As the day goes on, you keep a guarded expression on your face. Nothing really sticks, all the conversations go in one ear and out the other. The taste of your lunch tastes bland, your eyes are tired, and your face is swelling up from your shameful thoughts. Before you know it, you’re waving goodbye to the three figures as the blur out of sight. On the train ride home, you silently cry to yourself, trying to keep the sobs in.

Later, when you’re back at home staring at the ceiling of your room emptily, you find out from Osamu that Suna didn’t and still doesn’t have a girlfriend.

Another year passes with minimal contact with Suna. You stare down at the career sheet in front of you with an intense ferocity. You had been dreading this moment since you entered high school and you still feel humiliated for not having any idea about your future. University was definitely a requirement (unless you wanted to get your ass beat by your parents), but what was after that? You had heard your classmates excitedly discuss college life, all the parties, mixers, and possible romances, but none of those really appeal to you.

Tapping your pencil on your wooden desk, you sigh exhaustively and lean back into your chair, stretching your limbs. The counselors at your school were also no help at all though it was partially your fault for not doing research into fields earlier. Sports? Nah, that was definitely out of the question. Baking? Not unless you wanted to learn everything from scratch and possibly burn down your kitchen. Premed? You’d rather not have the life of a person in your very irresponsible hands.

Ugh, this is way too difficult. Why have kids decide what they want in life when they barely even know how to do integrals? You flip the career sheet over, tired of the bold, black letters mocking your cluelessness. A moment of contemplative silence passes. You finally decide on calling Suna, though it feels tense after not contacting him for so long.

He picks up on the third ring with a monotonous greeting. “Suna, what career do you think I should pursue?” There’s a grunt of confusion on the other end and you can hear the beeps and boops from a video game in the background.

“Um, I don’t know. What do you like?”

“I don’t know. What do you think I like?”

“I thought you were calling me for help, not giving me a quiz on how much I know about you.” You hear him yell at someone in the background before he sighs and apologizes. “Artist? I know you like to read manga.”

“Suna, do you want me to be homeless? I wouldn’t be able to survive on a mangaka’s paycheck.” You didn’t know what you expected, but it was definitely worse.

“Kindergarten teacher?”

“I hate children.” He cackles into the phone. “I”m so lost. Can I just freeload off of you? I’m sure your athlete’s paycheck is more than enough for two people.”

“Hell no. I’m going to buy a house with a hot tub and a pool.”

“What’s the point of a hot tub if you already have a pool? Actually, what’s even the point of a pool? You don’t know how to swim!”

“I do know how to swim. I'm just a little slow at it!” He yells in embarrassment. Sure he only knew how to do breaststroke but it still counted.

You huff out of your nose in annoyance. “You’re so lucky. I wish I were a talented athlete.”

“Sometimes, I wish I weren’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nevermind. If worst comes to worst, I guess I can let you freeload, but you’ll have to buy me chuupets every month.”

The two of you go back and forth on his freeloading terms until the sun shyly waves goodbye in a short-lived painting of vermillion.

“Do something that helps people. You’re always selfless and put others before you. It’s your only redeeming quality after all,” he snorts.

“You were definitely not of any help. Fuck you.” You hang up the phone with a mumble. In the box of your career sheet, you write ‘high school counselor’ in hesitant but confident letters.

Despite already having a career in volleyball, Suna still decided he wanted to experience college life. When he was assigned as your roommate, he complained although now he should be glad he was the one to find you on the floor of the small kitchen in an unnatural position, drunk out of your mind. He could hear your loud cries all the way from the front door. You pause your pitiful wailing to look up at him when he asks what’s wrong and then go back to bawling your eyes out.

He drops his backpack onto the floor and lifts you onto his lap, rocking from side to side in attempts to comfort you. When you’ve calmed down enough, you start babbling to him about what had been bothering you ever since the first day of college.

“I’m so ugly, Rin! There isn’t a single good quality about me. I look terrible and my personality is terrible. God, I don’t even have friends other than you. I’m so useless! You’re a professional athlete and I’m barely understanding what my teachers are saying in class!” A mix of snot and tears run down your face and the dizziness from your labored breaths tickles in the back of your head.

He whispers into the top of your head, “Why do you hate yourself so much?”

“Because everyone else does. No one bothers to talk to me outside of homework. There must be something wrong with me,” you cry, another wave of tears rushing to your eyes. Suna hugs you helplessly as you list all your insecurities to him, each one hurting his heart more and more, one right after the other. After you tire yourself out, you stare aimlessly at the kitchen cabinets.

“Rin,” you say, catching his attention, “kiss me.” He looks at you with a face of surprise and hesitation. You have to repeat yourself two more times until it finally sinks in. He leans in and kisses your cheek, your nose, and your eyes, noticeably avoiding your lips.

You laugh that giggle of yours he’s been in love with for 21 years and point to your lips. Your face is hot from the wine and your tried tears carve streaks down your face but he’s blushing so endearingly down at your figure. He shouldn’t be doing this. You still have school tomorrow and god knows if you actually like him back but before he knows it, his lips are on yours. His arms are around your shoulders pushing you in, into him until there’s no more space left between your body and his.

He pulls away in anticipation, afraid of what you’ll say next.

“Again.”

And he’s kissing you two more times when you plead for more. Again. Again. Again. You ask for more and he gives you more, whispering ‘I love you’ between each one. The night is cold but he feels so warm. Your hands grip onto his shirt, pulling him in for another one. “One more,” you keep begging until the two of you are passed out on the cold kitchen floor, drunk and happy.

Suna was hoping you’d forget everything, although he knows you remember everything even when you’re drunk, and his fears are confirmed when you’re knocking sheepishly on his door the next day. He tentatively invites you in and there’s an awkward silence between him in his chair and you on his bed.

“So, about yesterday,” you start, “Well, there’s no easy way to say this, but I’ve liked you since we were in our second year of middle school.” You hold your breath in suspense and meekly look up at him to see him holding his red face in his hands.

“Me too,” he breathes quietly. A silent ‘Ah!’ escapes your mouth and next thing you know, you’re rolling around in his bed, giggling like a little school girl.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Rin?,” you huff, “I spent all those years in agony wondering if you liked me back. I even started to hate Your Lie in April because of you! Do you know how hard it is to hate Your Lie in April?”

“You’re one to talk! I lied to you about having a girlfriend in high school because I wanted to see if you’d get jealous but all you did was nod! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Atsumu,” he groans, flopping down on top of you. He stares at you lovingly, his heart is beating out of his chest, his entire body feels like he’s on fire, but oh he’s so elated. You pull on his ugly bangs and giggle.

“I love you, Rin.”

“I know,” he cackles and you punch him in the arm, cheeks puffing out cutely.

“Say it back! Say it back, Rin!”

“I love you too,” he sighs but he’s smiling so wide.

The day before you leave for your honeymoon, Suna insists you visit your parent’s house one more time for the sake of childhood memories. Your parents happily agree, proud to see their little baby getting the life you deserved. You tell him there was nothing interesting to remember there. After all, you two were just little bumbling idiotic children with dried snot on the top of their lips and little coins clinking in little pockets after a summer festival. He leads you to the back of the house, where you two had played with handheld fireworks. On the ground were your name and his inside a heart in little Suna’s very ugly handwriting.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #suna x reader #suna fluff #i firmly believe suna was a chubby kid i do not take criticism #haikyuu x reader

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edens-breathless-melodies-moved · 4 years

Text

words: 4k

pairing: suna r. x f!reader

prompt: cock warming

warnings: cock warming, edging, exactly one (1) spank, reader being a lowkey brat, suna lowkey being a dick (nothing new here, folks)

summary: suna never realized just how tiring it was to play for a division one team. giving his hundred and twenty percent everyday really wore him down, and all he wanted was to relax. so what better way to do that than by surrounding himself with you?

exhausted could not even begin to describe how tired suna was. the amount of fatigue he felt as he trudged through the door to your shared home wasn’t even measurable, and you could feel it emanating from his weary body the moment he stepped through the door.

you frowned softly at your boyfriend’s run down figure, narrow eyes looking downright zombie-ish as he slouched into the living room.

a weak “i’m home” barely registered in your ears, and your heart ached for him, knowing how tiring practice could be.

you had been in the kitchen just finishing up dinner when you heard the sound of keys being entered into the lock.

you were excited to see your boyfriend after being alone for a majority of the day, and it was understandable that you practically launched out of the kitchen to greet him when he entered.

recently he’s been spending more and more time at practice as one of his big games drew closer, and you can’t really blame him for wanting to perfect everything before the game. you adored how serious he takes the sport.

but if you’re being honest with yourself, you have been feeling rather needy lately, and suna spending so much time away wasn’t helping.

suna would disappear from your shared bed just as the sun was rising, pressing a chaste but loving kiss against your sleepy forehead before whispering he’ll be back.

and sometimes he wouldn’t arrive back home until well after dark, barely having enough energy to pull you to his chest before drifting off, exhausted from the day’s training.

you know he feels bad for not being able to spend as much time with you lately, and although you brushed it off by saying you didn’t mind, he wanted to make it up to you.

so when you awoke that morning to find that suna had already left, you felt bummed that you missed his good morning kiss until you checked your phone.

you saw a text from him sent at nearly 06:30 in the morning, about two hours earlier than when he’d normally leave for practice.

sunarin 🐱 💦 06:28 - i convinced coach to start practice a little earlier so me nd the rest of the team could have a early night in. i love you dork, see u when i get home

the excited screech you let out would’ve woken up the neighbors if you had any around you, and you could barely contain your glee at having your sleepy eyes boyfriend home early for once.

the rest of the day was a blur as you rushed around your cozy home tidying up and preparing dinner, different scenarios running through your head about what you two were gonna do when he finally got home.

your thighs clenched slightly at the thought of finally have suna all to yourself in the bedroom, and your need for him to come home was reaching an all time high. ‘finally, we can do more than just a quick kiss…’

but the moment those usually sharp pale yellow eyes locked tiredly with yours, dull and exhausted, it was understandable that you felt a twinge of disappointment and frustration as you silently resigned yourself to a quiet and early night in.

deep down you knew it wasn’t his fault that his coach drained them until they were dry, so you swallowed your disappointment the moment you felt it.

you could always have him to yourself another night.

although you were practically a master at hiding your true emotions to anyone, slapping on a smile and kind eyes that could fool even the toughest detective, suna rintarou was not just anyone.

he could see the traces of disappointment and sexual frustration lurking behind your warm eyes as you offered him a soothing and genuine smile, rushing over to grab his sports bag to put away.

he watched the way you gazed at him with adoration as you gave him a sweet kiss on his check before going to hang his bag in the room, telling him to relax and that you’d bring him dinner in a sec.

you may convince everyone and even yourself, but you couldn’t get past him.

after being by your side for nearly twenty years, suna could confidently say that he was good at reading you, even the you that you tried to hide away.

~~~~

you and suna rintarou were a classic case of childhood best friends to lovers. your mothers were practically attached at the hips since their childhood, so it only made sense for the two of you to be inseparable since birth.

thankfully, you guys ended up getting along with each other, and you two became attached at the hips as well just like your mothers, maybe even more so.

watching the two of you interact with one another as you grew up was always an amusing sight to your cooing parents who were secretly hoping you two would end up together when you were older.

suna and you complimented each other unknowingly. he was always the ice to your fire, the moon to your sun; always there to bring counter you whenever your emotions got the best of you.

while you both were generally well behaved and good children, your mannerisms couldn’t be more unlike each other if you tried.

where suna was usually an indifferent and relaxed child, going with the flow and never starting a fuss, you were always known to be a bit of a crybaby, your emotions overruling your logic sometimes.

at age seven, when your parents had told the two of you that you couldn’t go to the park when you asked because the sun was getting ready to set and it was getting late out, they already knew what was going to happen.

your cute little bottom lip would jut out and begin to quiver and your eyes would begin to tear up, and both sets of parents just sighed as they prepared to deal with another one of your rare cases of bratiness.

so imagine their surprise when little suna, always so passive and indifferent, came up to your trembling form and wrapped his arms around you in a loose hug.

he was muttering how the two of you could go to the park tomorrow as he continued hugging you, pale eyes narrowed softly as he calmed you down with his words.

both parents watched in shock at how quickly suna was able to bring you down from your impending tantrum with just a hug and a couple of choice sentences.

your mothers choked on their spit while your fathers stifled their laughs when they heard suna mumble out “and please don’t cry, you always get snot everywhere.”

from that day forward, suna became your pacifier. whenever things were about to turn ugly and your lip began to tremble or your eyes had that fire in them, it was always suna who swooped in and brought you back down to earth.

(as the two of you got older, his choice of words to calm you down evolved as well, so don’t worry)

the two of you never left each other’s sides all throughout elementary school, and even when most kids branch off in middle school, especially a girl/boy duo, the two of you yet again shocked your parents by sticking through.

this continued on into high school as well, and both of you continued to hide your growing feelings for one another, never revealing them until your second year at inarizaki high.

suna was quick to convince you to become the team’s manager when he joined the boys volleyball club, and the team loved your sweet but feisty and sarcastic attitude.

when growing up with suna rintarou as your best friend, you had to have some backbone to combat his dry humor and biting teases.

the members of the club adored you, some a little more than others.

miya atsumu had a gift for pisisng people off whether he realized it or not, and deciding that causally flirting with the middle blocker’s best friend was totally okay. absolutely nothing could go wrong, right?

oh, you poor, piss haired sewer rat.

to be fair, looking back on it years later, the two of you should be thanking atsumu for flirting with you that day.

if he hadn’t, then suna may have never realized how much he had fallen for you over the years of being by your side.

the fear suna felt run through him made his heart freeze when he saw the way you blushed when atsumu had whispered something in your ear during a break at practice.

the way his heart clenched when you laughed at one of his jokes, eyes alight and shining brightly made suna realize he didn’t want you looking at anyone like that but him.

although he kinda felt guilty for the bloody nose he gave atsumu when he “accidentally” spiked the ball directly into his face just as he was about to whisper something else in your ear, he never apologized.

and later that evening, as the two of you stood at the entrance to your street leading towards your homes, (you lived across the road from each other), suna kissed you as the sun set, confessing on the spot.

he wasn’t a particularly emotional person, leaving that to you, but he couldn’t help the way his eyes watered slightly from happiness when you just smiled that dazzling smile and kissed him again.

~~~~

now, with both of you at twenty-two years old and happily living together, the only thing left to do was get married, but suna wasn’t trying to rush towards that yet.

that’s how suna knows when you’re hiding something from him. and with the way your eyes subtly linger on his form as he strips to change out of his sweaty clothes and into something comfier, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you want.

luckily for you, suna rintarou decided that being a genius is suddenly overrated.

————————

you sighed in content the moment you settled yourself on suna’s lap, burying your face in his neck as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

you could feel the tension in his body relax at your warm weight, long arms coming to loosely wrap around your waist as he settled deeper into the couch.

suna knew he missed your presence, but he never realized how starved he was of your touch until you slowly began scratching his hair at the top of his neck soothingly, placing gentle kisses to his flesh.

he practically melted into a warm puddle and squeezed you a tad bit tighter, smiling softly at the way you giggled and continued your ministrations.

“i swear rin, if you were a cat you’d be purring right now.” you teased as your fingers never left his hair. all suna did was give a light amused huff, and you both settled into silence.

this was nice. you could be content with just this. having suna in your arms and relaxed against your couch is more than you’ve had in a while, and you tried to convince yourself that it was enough.

but suna could pick up on the way your kisses lingered a little too long against his neck without you realizing what you were doing, the way your thighs twitched gently from your straddled position in his lap.

you were trying so hard to stay still for him, not wanting to be a bother especially after such a tiring practice today, but you just couldn’t help it.

just the thought of his thick and long cock spearing you open had your thighs twitching again, but you made yourself relax as you took in a deep breath, filling your nose with the scent of him.

‘this is enough.’

as you fought to relax yourself and rid the dirty thoughts from your mind, you didn’t realize that your boyfriend had caught on to your mental battle.

he knew what you wanted, and to be honest he wanted to fuck just as badly as you did, but he just couldn’t find it within himself to put out the effort. so instead, another idea came to mind.

“y’know, if you wanted to sit on my cock so badly, you could’ve just told me, (y/n).” suna remarked nonchalantly and you froze in his lap, face burning at being caught while acting needy.

you buried your face deeper into his neck, denying his words. “never said i wanted to sit on your cock, dumbass…” you muttered into his neck, and suna raised a thin eyebrow in disbelief.

now out of all times, you wanted to be a brat?

“oh? so i misinterpreted things?” he mused and he rolled his eyes when you simply nodded into his neck, refusing to admit defeat.

you startled when you felt his large hands begin to move you off his lap, and you whipped your head up to look at him in confusion and concern.

suna leveled your gaze with that same eyebrow raised at you in amusement. “what? i thought you just wanted to just wanted to relax tonight and not sit on my cock?”

you whimpered in embarrassment but suna kept up with his act, wanting to see how long it’d take for you to break and finally beg.

so he continued to push you off of him slowly until you finally caved with a whine, locking yourself firmly on his lap as you gripped his arms in desperation.

a smug smirk curled his lips as he watched you begin to grind against him softly, big doe eyes staring up at him with all the lust and desperation you’ve been holding back for the past week.

“please rin,” you whined, slowly gyrating your hips into his, growing more frantic when you felt his cock rise and press against you through his sweats.

“i wanna be full of your cock so badly, please! i’ve been waiting like a good girl.” you whined, and suna groaned at how wanton you sounded, (s/c) cheeks dusted lightly with your blush.

you nearly cried when suna wordlessly pulled you up and began slipping your shorts and panties down. you eagerly stood up and wiggled out of them.

kicking them somewhere in the living room, you watched with hungry eyes as suna pulled his own sweats and underwear down.

his cock sprang free from its confines, and you began drooling at how hard he was already, fat tip flushed red and leaking precum down the side.

the vein trailing down its side was pulsing angrily with his heartbeat, and you knew he was just as frustrated with the lack of intimacy as you.

already coating your inner thighs with your arousal, you wasted no time situating yourself back in his lap, hovering your twitching entrance over his thick cock.

with firm hands on your waist as you held onto his shoulder, you both choked out moans as you slowly but surely impaled yourself on his cock.

you nearly cried as he stretched your walls apart, relishing in the feeling of being so full again.

as he finally bottomed out, plush tip jamming firmly against your cervix, you stared up at your boyfriend with love and lust swirling in your eyes, desperate to move.

suna hissed at the way you seemed even tighter than he remembered, wet walls clasping around him like velvet.

the urge to thrust into your tight heat until you were screaming his name made him almost feral, and he nearly began bucking his hips up when he remembered how you wanted to play coy and bratty earlier.

so he decided to do the next best thing.

bringing his face close to yours until your lips were barely brushing against one another, suna pulled you into a searing kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist as you eagerly kissed him back.

it was wet and messy with the desperation between the two of you, his tongue wasting no time to slip into your mouth and re-familiarize himself with your flavor.

you moaned into the kiss and tried to lift your hips to start moving, but suna’s grip on you kept you from rising. breaking away from him, you stared at him in confusion, lips wet and shiny.

“rin?” you questioned but your boyfriend simply ignored you, reaching to his side for the remote to the tv before switching it on and randomly clicking on a channel.

you stared at him in disbelief as the sound of guy fieri’s voice came softly from the flatscreen, and suna resisted the urge to smile as he settled back down, wrapping his arms around you again before leaning his chin on your shoulder.

there was no way he was gonna keep you like this, right?

but to your dismay, the longer the two of you sat there, suna’s cock hard and pulsing within your tight walls, the more jittery and whiny you became when he didn’t move.

you were desperate for some sort of friction, anything to ease the tension you felt throbbing in your core, but suna was having no of it.

you tried to wiggle in his arms, whimpering slightly as you jostled his cock within you, his member shifting to rub lightly against your g-spot.

a hiss left suna’s lips when you squirmed around, walls tightening as you desperately tried to get some friction.

a sharp cry left your lips when a heavy palm came cracking down against your ass cheek, halting your movements as you rested your forehead against his clothed chest, whimpering in pain and pleasure.

suna growled lowly into your ear, palm never leaving your stinging flesh as he gripped you tightly.

“now you wanna move?” he scoffed. “i thought you didn’t want my cock in you earlier, hm?”

“but i took it back and asked you for it!” you whined and suna pulled you back to gaze into your eyes.

even though he was your boyfriend, he was your best friend first, and you forgot how mean he could be when teasing you.

“you did, huh?” he scoffed again when you nodded your head rapidly, clenching around him again to try and entice him to move.

“well i’m just giving you what you wanted, baby girl. you wanted to sit on my cock, so you are.” you whimpered in despair when he stared directly into your eyes with a malicious gleam.

“i’m tired from practice and you feel so good around me,” he bucked his hips up into you lightly to emphasize his point, and you moaned wantonly as he hit your g-spot directly.

“so be a good girl for me and keep me warm. can you do that?”

suna smiled when you weakly nodded your head, sniffling quietly as your eyes began to fill with tears. he cooed as a couple drops fell to stream down your cheeks.

“my pretty little crybaby.” he mused as he brought a hand up to wipe your tears away. you let him do as he pleased and sat still for him like a good girl.

your earlier thought of retiring early tonight flashed by you, and you realized just how wrong your assumptions were.

—————————

suna was ninety-five percent sure that if he edged you one more time tonight and didn’t let you cum, he’d be a single man by the morning.

you were a crying, shivering mess in his lap at this point. your tears were soaking the fabric by his chest just as your drooling cunt was soaking the fabric of his sweats.

for hours now, the sun having gone down around the third or fifth time of you nearly reaching your climax, suna has been edging you as you warmed his cock.

eyes never leaving the tv, he would slowly grind against you till you were whining loudly in his ear.

sometimes if he felt you were getting too comfortable, eyes almost slipping shut in exhaustion, he would suddenly thrust harshly into your core, smashing directly into your g-spot before stilling again.

he began to feel particularly bad after holding you over the edge before pulling you away last time. your big (e/c) eyes were red from crying, tears freely flowing down your cheeks.

you were shaking like a leaf in his lap, hiccups jolting you every now and then as you tried to cling onto your fading orgasm as it died back down. but you were his good girl, not once trying to move in his lap.

that didn’t stop you from begging him, however.

in the beginning, suna just toned out your begging, keeping his attention on guy fieri driving around looking for the best diner’s, drive-in’s, and dives.

but when he finally decided to look down at you, your words slowly flowing through his ears again, his heart clenched and his dick throbbed at the sight of you practically destroyed on his lap.

so suna decided to take pity on you and actually began thrusting into you at a consistent pace, his own patience stretched thin at the feeling of your insides pulsing so tightly against him for hours.

but he stopped the moment you shook your head, weak fists coming to beat on his chest in retaliation.

he had to strain his hearing to catch onto your words, but when he did, his heart practically shattered when you were quietly crying on his lap.

“n-no more… i c-can’t t-take it!” you whimpered, and suna wrapped his arms securely around your form, whispering sweet praises into your hair as he gently rocked you back and forth. “y-you’re just g-gonna stop again...”

“it’s okay pretty girl, shh. don’t cry.” he murmured to you as you relaxed in his arms, no longer shaking but tears still dripping down your cheeks.

“i’m not gonna tease you anymore, you’ve been so good for me.” he whispered into your hair.

“can i make you feel good, (y/n)?” he asked you calmly, and he smiled when you shyly nodded your head.

“please make me feel good, rinrin. i missed you.” you sounded so small and sweet in his arms, so suna decided to finally give you what you’ve been craving for.

keeping his arms locked around your waist, he hooked his chin on your shoulder as he began to piston his hips into yours, cock pumping into you at a steady pace as he began to push you towards your orgasm for the last time.

you wailed as you finally received the constant pressure of his cock filling your insides, hitting your g-spot with deadly accuracy as you tipped dangerously close to the edge.

you both weren’t gonna last long and suna knew that, so he winded his hand down between your bodies and connected his fingers with your aching clit.

rubbing firm circles into your sensitive nub, suna brought you right to the cliff, and this time, he allowed you to fall over.

you came on his cock with a silent cry, eyes wide as tears streamed down your cheeks. the force of you clenching around him forced suna to meet his end as well, a low groan leaving his lips as he slowly pumped his hips into yours, filling your cunt to the brim.

suna snaked his hand back up to wrap around your waist, burying his tired face into your breasts, refusing to let go as you both caught your breath, boneless after such a drawn out session.

he melted into your chest when you tiredly brought a hand up to lazily run through his hair, and this time you swore he began purring.

still connected to one another, you both began drifting off on the couch, the tv’s low hum helping you both settle into much needed rest.

you fell asleep first, cheek resting on the top of his head as you both reclined into the plush couch. suna could feel your even breaths and steady heartbeat, and smiled into your flesh before drifting off himself.

“god, i’m so lucky to have a best friend like you. i wonder what cut of diamond you prefer?”

taglist: @lovelypasteldreams @living-for-drama @arixtsukki @month-seasoning @bakarinnie @yikerb

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thedamageofherdays · 3 years

Text

This week's reading log is here and there is a lot. Stucky Week provided me with lots of incredible fics to read and it was honestly a delight! There are a couple of things I didn't get around to reading just yet but I'm hoping I can get to them very soon <3 Make sure to check out the @stucky-week tumblr to see some incredible non-fic creations too.

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

🌻 Move Before We Lose It by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 59k words, Mature]

“The two of you are ridiculous.” Okoye grabs a bag of M&Ms and starts picking out all the greens. “If I knew that hiring you would turn Steve into an unbearable goof, I would’ve voted for the guy who claimed he came up with Got Milk?”

“I thought that asshole hit on Wanda as soon as he came out of his interview.” Bucky makes an unpleasant face.

Okoye raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, so imagine how obnoxious the Steve and Bucky show’s been for the last five years.”

With the help of his brother T’Challa, Bucky Barnes lands a job at Danvers Advertising right out of college. He never would have seen the family and life he’d build with his team coming, or the lifelong friendship with one Steve Rogers.

Couch is Synonymous with Matchmaker by oh_i_swear @oh-i-swear-writes [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain American is living a good, if lonely, life.

However, a new tenant with an awful couch moves into the Brooklyn Brownstone that houses Steve's apartment and kind of turns everything upside down - but in the best possible way.

A shrunkyclunks meet-ugly-turned-meet-cute in which the awful couch accidentally becomes a matchmaker (of sorts, anyway).

How to Make a Million Dollars by Getting Fired by isolatedwriter [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Bucky never liked SHIELD, but he didn't think he'd ever been on the run from them. However, clearly his past self didn't account for finding Steve Rogers being strapped to a bed against his will. Something like that seems to turn your whole life around.

In which Bucky frees Steve from SHIELD and they end up on the run together.

The Importance of Being Stevie by alexcat @alexcat45 [Stucky, 711 words, Teen]

Steve heads to Wakanda and meets Bucky's other sweetheart - his goat.

The Artbook by luna_rainbow @luna-rainbow [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Steve notices Bucky doesn't like using the new arm, so he brings something with him on his next visit to Wakanda to explain why it was okay.

🌻 Running Out Of Time by The_Glacian @steve-x-bucky [Stucky, 1k words, General]

When Bucky returned home from work, they popped open a bottle of cheap red wine that burned all the way down when Steve took a cautious sip.

to hoping by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

"If I can still be useful here, maybe I can find a purpose."

"More than a purpose, Steve. You can find a life."

If I could tell you I was yours by christywantspizza [Stucky, 2k words, General]

Steve meets a scared Bucky in the streets of Brooklyn one day and helps him find his way home.

🌻 The Weight of Gold by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Stucky, 860 words, General]

”Your arm,” Steve says, his voice still weak from the cold. ”What happened to it?”

OR:

Steve is trapped under ice in the Arctic Ocean. Merman!Bucky finds and saves him.

The Sweet Escape by The_Glacian [Stucky, 823 words, General]

In a few strides, Steve covered the distance between them and wrapped him in his arms.

I Can See That This Love Was Meant For Me by HNJ [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

“What’s this?” Nat says. She hands him a page and Steve touches it with careful hands. The paper is faded and brittle, but the drawing it carries is still the same.

As he stares at the image, lost years curl around his heart. They tangle around him like vines until they’re all he can feel. He puts the paper down.

“Just a portrait.” He says.

It's A Beautiful Arm by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 100 words, General]

Steve reunites with Bucky in Wakanda.

Cradled in Love by The_Glacian [Stucky, 879 words, General]

It was no secret that Steve was a delicate creature.

Wrap Your Hands Around Me (Show Me I Belong) by whenwordsmakesense @whenwordsmakesense [Stucky, 963 words, Teen]

Post Mission, Bucky can't sleep, and Steve's super-hearing picks up on it. Cue late-night cuddles and some of Steve's inner-thoughts.

🌻 En Pointe by Oh_i_swear [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Bucky Barnes is an ex-professional ballet dancer now running his own dance school. He's kind, compassionate and clearly cares about the kids in his class and their dreams and goals - most of which involve getting to the stage where they can dance en pointe.

Steve Rogers is a perfectionist and owns En Pointe, the dance wear store nearest to Bucky's dance studio. It's almost light a right of passage when the kids in Bucky's class get to visit the store, not only because they finally get their pointe shoes, but because they get to see the infamous squabbling between Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers who clearly rub each other up the wrong way.... but is everything as it seems?

Listen Close by fandomfluffandfuck @fandomfluffandfuck [Stucky, 9k words, Explicit]

The Barnes And Noble podcast is run by two best friends - life long friends - Steve and Bucky. They talk about a multitude of topics but when the topic at hand turns to the quite often laughable quality, or lack thereof, of the pornography industry and things like fake moans come up... with examples (at least, examples on Bucky's part) it's pretty damn hard (pun not intended) for Steve not take, uh, interest with that sound. Or with other sounds Bucky may or may not make.

...and, well, that conversation isn't one they're ever going to publish as it turns out.

The Office Romance by isolatedwriter [Stucky, 4k words, Teen]

It had become a joke around the office, the fact that Barnes and Rogers acted like an old married couple.

In which Steve and Bucky are already dating, but their co-workers haven't exactly caught on yet.

🌻 Pyxis by The_Glacian [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Pyxis, ‘the compass’ – a constellation in the southern hemisphere.

(Being single didn’t directly translate to having a prime deficiency. Yet a break-in was what Bucky needed to realise that his life could use a little variety.)

Moonlight Kissed by The_Glacian [Stucky, 782 words, General]

The problem was, Steve had very little experience in the physical aspects of dating.

A Wish Upon the Fireworks by jesm @jesmme [Stucky, 676 words, Teen]

Steve & Bucky watch the 4th of July fireworks and Steve gets a birthday wish

🌻 Lips That Touch Liquor by millesable @marvelousescapism [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“I can’t lose you, Buck… you’re the only… you’re all I got in this whole world, Buck, I can’t…”

“Lose me? Where you think I’m goin’, huh, pal? I’m right here.”

“You’re gonna leave me. When you find out.”

“Find out what, Stevie?”

🌻 A Good Cause by apkidd @deletexforever [Stucky, 8k words, General]

When Steve reluctantly covers the charity kissing booth, he catches the eye of a handsome stranger with a wallet full of cash.

Dreaming Wide Awake by The_Glacian [Stucky, 928 words, General]

It was a fine summer evening that found him at the kitchen counter, experimenting with rye bread, when Bucky let himself in through the front door.

A couple of kids from Brooklyn by unremarkable @otp-holic [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky comes back home after a few days out on a mission and finds Steve in the middle of a research of its own.

🌻 evening glow by PurpleStarship @inthelapofthewhiteqwen [Stucky, 1k words, General]

They're watching the cars pass by down on the street, the children playing ball in a dead-end, the way they used to all these decades ago. Bucky wonders if some eighty-odd years down the line two of those kids will be sitting by the window in their own little place and say: "We used to play ball in that alley. Look how far we made it, sweetheart."

***

Bucky and Steve spend a quiet evening at home:3

#stucky #stevebucky #r's reading log #fic rec #stucky fic rec

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

Text

You Can’t Get Better Than A Thrombey

Summary- 4.7 Ransom x You. You and Ransom have a good thing going. Friends with benefits and nothing more. But Ransom’s selfish ways end up ruining it, and you are done. Gone. You moved on with your life. Until one traveling night that brings you back to the city you had left behind, and of course Ransom Drysdale shows up. Written for @imanuglywombat Wombat’s Ugly 4k Challenge.

Warnings- This fic has a spousal cheating element to it. Please do not read if that bothers you. Other warnings, Smut, Male receiving Oral and Swears.

A/N- Thank you @imanuglywombat for the wonderful challenge! It was so much fun. Congratulations on your follower count babes.

A/N Two- Moodboard Wombat made is at the very bottom of the fic, and the lyrics used for second prompt, Good Luck by Basement Jaxx will be in italiacs through the fic.

A/N three- if just occurred to me that the whole "you cant get better then a thrombey" came from @jtargaryen18 series Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales, which her Ransom Drysdale series is top tier and absolutely should go read. It's one of my favorites. Probably why the line got stuck in my head.

“Come on Baby, just one more.” Ransom hissed against your ear, his tongue swiping over the shell of your ear while tightening his hold on your throat, your sobs coming out half strangled from needing to come on his cock that he kept pounding into you. Feet planted on the plush hotel carpet, his thrusts into your cunt had you gasping with need while your channel fluttered around his cock. He grasped your hand that was currently buried in his hair and wrenched your hand down to press against your stomach. “Feel that Kitten, how I’m rearranging your guts and fucking you useless for anyone else?”

Your head nodded, as much as he allowed with the hold on your throat, causing his fingers to flex, closing around your throat tighter till you were seeing sparks blossom in your sight and that's when you couldn't hold back anymore. Behind you, Ransom's sweaty chest clung like wrap to your back, vibrating as he grunted against your shoulder. You ended up flooding his cock, gushing on your thighs and slicking against his as he pounded you harder now, grabbing your hips and rutting you now to reach his end. Leaving your limp body to be rag-dolled in his lap till he shot himself inside of you to paint your walls, and you both fell back against the ruined California King bed, the sheets sex sweat stained from earlier.

Gasping breaths and heaving chests were the only sound in the overheated room, and you eased off him, your back peeling away to roll next to him with a groan. You peeked at him from where you had buried your head against the crook of your arm, and admired the flushed cheeks, and still tensing tendons in his neck, his hair was all disheveled and out of its usual place from where he always had it groomed back. “Mmh, what are you staring at?” He questioned before turning to look at you, his ridiculously long lashes were swept against his cheek for half a second before cold crystal cerulean’s looked at you inquiring.

“I'm looking at your post orgasm face.” You respond, and prop a hand under your head once you turn to your side. “It's a good look on you Ransom, one of your better ones.”

He arched a brow as he reached over, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging on a still sensitive nipple to make you gasp, and shove your hand against his shoulder making him smirk in his signature way. “Fucking glad you approve, maybe we should do this more often.”

“Well next time you're in the city, give me a call.” You say swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around at your discarded clothing.

“And where the fuck you going?” He tugged you back to tumble into the bed, rolling over you so you could feel his thighs wedge yours apart and his hips drop into place. You fold your arms across your chest and huff, looking up at him as he braced himself above you, tendrils of sweaty hair falling over his forehead.

“You can't be serious Ransom, again? I have to go back to my apartment. I have a work meeting tomorrow with my bosses.” You state matter of fact. “Besides, whatever happened to that no sleeping over rule?”

“Who says I'm letting you sleep? I barely get to come to the city anyways.” He lowered over you, pressing his soft pillowed lips in all your weakest spots on your shoulder and neck, a hand sliding between your thighs and into slick folds. Fuck this man, your mind thought till it went blank again in the sensation of his fingers so expertly playing between your petals that you already were stretching your thighs wider for him. “I haven't thoroughly fucked you yet.”

“God I hate you.” You moaned out as you felt your resolve fluttering into his favor, the metal of his pinkie rubbed against your clit and a long finger stretched you open once more.

“Well this sure isn't love Kitten, cause I'm about to destroy you. Admit it Y/N, you haven't had anything better than me.” He expertly gave you those long fingered strokes that had you keening his name, losing your entire resolve.

“That's my girl…” He praised above you while you grabbed his biceps and started to climb to the heavens all over again.

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A knock on the door disturbed your sleep. You stirred in confusion against the overly soft pillow that wasn't at all familiar. You lifted your head in confusion, looking around when another knock came, and you heard Ransom yell from the bathroom, snapping it open. “Fuck, will be right there.”

You clutched the sheet and sat up, rubbing at your eyes while he brought in a cart with covered trays. “I didn't think you would ever get up Y/N.” He said while wheeling it to a table, and it occurred to you that the sun was awful bright.

“Oh shit, Ransom, what time is it?” You shoot across the bed, looking desperately for your cell phone, and he gives a shrug while lifting the cover off one tray.

“Hell if I know… 10? 11?” he says while grabbing a piece of toast and biting the corner while you are moving aside pillows trying to find your phone.

“Ransom!” You snagged your phone from under a pillow, and checked the notifications. Closing your eyes in frustration. “It's more like 1 in the afternoon, and I was supposed to have a meeting at 10. I set my alarm.”

Ransom strode over to you as you were typing out a message to your office hurriedly. “Oh, yea I might have silenced it this morning. The fucking thing wouldn’t stop chirping.”

Your eyes lifted from your screen and said with utmost disbelief. “You… silenced it?”

“It was so fucking early and woke me up Y/N.” Like you had inconvenienced him. “I don’t know why you set the fucking thing anyways.” He said, and you felt rage well up in your chest, pushing up out of the bed, and grabbed at your clothes.

“You did it this time Ransom. You are a fuck buddy, and yet you take the whole thing quite literally don’t you.” You grab at your panties, shoving them on and then snatch your bra. “Fucked me over on the most important meeting of my life, I should have known better then to answer your fucking text.” You are ranting to yourself, searching for your skirt.

Ransom seems confused at your words, starting to follow you around. “You’re mad because of that job? I’ve told you a hundred times to come on as Harlan's assistant. He’s been looking for years and you would be perfect. Probably pay you better and you can come to my place more often.” His tone turned cocky while saying this, his gift to you apparently.

You pushed past Ransom without even saying anything, grabbing your shirt and shoving it over your head. “You sold me down the river now Ransom.” You grab at your heels and slip them on while reading the message on your phone sent back from your office. Basically telling you to get your ass in because the boss wanted to see you. Breathing out in defeat. “I hope you’re feeling happy now.” You drop it in your bag while he gives an exaggerated eye roll at you.

“Come on Y/N, It's not the end of the world.” He grasped your arm to stop you storming out, and you hiss at him.

“You don't get it Ransom do you, I worked hard for this, my whole fucking life. And I let you ruin it for me. I should be mad at you but it would be such a waste of energy on you. So I’m mad at myself more.” You look him up and down while wrenching your arm out of his grasp, and look up at him, committing him to memory, this exact expression of his. Signature sneer crossing his face that edged on his face with a smirk like he would fix this problem with the easiest way possible. It might have worked with another woman, one who thought that he ‘Loved Her’ but you were not fooled, there was no love between you. This was a way to scratch an itch. One that you needed to break away from. Now that the damage was done.

“We’re all done Ransom, I can’t keep doing this shit anymore with you. The consequences outweigh the benefits of sleeping with you.” You started towards the door and you felt him spin you around, pressing you against the door.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Kitten?” He sneered down at you, and when you tried to push him away, he slammed you back into the door with a dull thud. “You don't throw away a good thing Sweetheart.”

You catch your breath, the hard masculine body crushing against you was all too familiar, and up to his expression that looked like he had won you over. Now you always have a sneer in your smile Ransom, you thought to yourself, thinking you have actual control over me. Your hands planted against his chest, and his gaze darkened as you made him back away from you with resolve. “But wake up, Baby, You’re so totally deluded… I'm throwing away this good thing right now.” Turning away, you were quick to open the door and look over your shoulder. “Don’t bother fucking calling me anymore.”

With a quick snap out the door, as you walked down the five star hotel hallway, you heard Ransom rip open the door and poke his head out. “Don't worry about me calling you Kitten, not like you are the only lay I can get in this town.”

You didn't even bother answering as you stepped on the elevator. Your last sight of him was striding towards the elevator doors as they shut, staring back at him coldly as he shouted your name and the doors blocked him from you, now your reflection staring coldly back at you in the steel doors as the elevator brought you to the lobby.

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That would be the last time you saw him in a couple years. You ended up losing your job that day, and decided that it wasn't just Ransom you needed to change in your life, but all of it. You put out resumes all over New England and found someone to take over the lease to your apartment. Within a couple months from that night, you were moving out of the city and to a small suburb, house, lawn and everything. You went to work as a legal aide at a small law firm. Dates happened here and there, but you didn't let any of them get close in the way Ransom was. Eventually dating turned into a matter of convenience for you. You settled finally. A lawyer that chased after you for a while, Neil. He made an excellent lover and you two were comfortable, you even loved him in a way. Just like he loved you in a way. He had long hours, and you always traveled. It became a relationship of sorts for you two.

This evening you sat in the swanky Boston bar, another business trip for the firm, sipping from a second gin and tonic while scanning the room when you saw a sight you never thought you would see again.

One Ransom Drysdale came in with some slim waisted woman clinging to him, chatting away but you could tell just from the way he scanned the room that he wasn't even paying attention to her. When his gaze fell on you, his brows arched in surprise, but then they darkened and he whispered to his companion. When she split away towards a table, he strode over to you sitting at the bar.

“Never thought I would see you slumming in this part of town again.” He said slowly while waving the bartender over. “You look good Y/N.” He said in a matter of fact tone, and you raked a gaze over him. In the two years you hadn’t seen him, he barely changed. Still wore the high end clothes, and that camel colored coat that was so soft to the touch, that pinkie ring shone just a bit in the low light. “Another gin and tonic for her to.” in which your drink was switched out with a fresh one.

“Business Hugh.” You snipped out, catching him scowl at mention of his name. How you got a thrill knowing how much he hated it. “And you don't look bad yourself. Still living that trust fund life, it treats you good.” You thanked the bartender and sipped from the much stronger gin and tonic now, feeling the tendrils of heat curl in your veins from the alcohol.

“Well I will have you know not entirely a trust fund life now.” He remarked your words back to you while he leaned in closer, his hand sliding along your thigh in that all too familiar way of his. “I took over part of Blood Like Wine just to piss Walt off. But I enjoy it, and have been doing some writing myself with Harlan’s help.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, tilting your head towards him. “You actually got serious in life? I’m impressed.”

Ransom shrugged while twirling his glass, the bits of ice clinking in the glass. “Got bored, needed something to do Y/N.”

You laughed hearing him, and glanced over your shoulder. “Isn’t your date waiting on your Ransom?”

He looked over his shoulder at the woman he had come in with, shaking his head. “Nah, she will be fine. See, she already is eyeing up someone else.” He stated, watching as his previous date scooted over, letting someone sit in the booth with her. Ransom turned back to you and smirked, settling in comfortably next to you. “Guess we actually get to catch up.” You didn't send him away, in fact you two fell back into easy conversation talking about the past two years. The evening turned to night, and the bartender gave you two the cut off. Before you could excuse yourself to leave, Ransom reached out and caught your wrist to keep you from getting up.

“Looks like I'm free tonight, what do you say… one more for old times sake?”

You pondered his offer, the last swallow of gin and tonic was probably that last push as you glanced at your old lover. His eyes showed promise that it would be good, and you knew full well that he had every right to be cocky. Setting your glass down, you nod.

“Old times sake… but this is it Drysdale.”

You two escaped the bar, Ransom knowing the streets like the back of his hand. It was like the old days when you two messed around, familiar in the sense you knew that you two would hit the subway. You hated riding in the beamer around the city, and he was well aware of it. Teasing looks and touches were shared on the subway, once in a while a dirty kiss before splitting apart. “Fuck you taste good Kitten.” He muttered your old nickname against your neck as he sucked a mark against your pulse. “So addictive.” You hide a grin in against his shoulder hearing him.

The thing that ended up surprising you was when Ransom didn't pull you to one of your regular meetup Hotels, but an actual apartment building. “What is this?” You stalled as he hit the numbers in the pad on the side of the building to be let in.

“I moved into the city. Made more sense then having to travel all the fucking time.” Pulling you into the building and steering you to the elevator, he crowded into you once the doors shut on you two. Your head tilted back to let him skim those lips over your pulse once more and tug your ear between sharp teeth, needy fingers bunching under your sweater, and trailing fire against your skin till his touch turned into a press of fingertips biting into your curves. Your hands fisted in his cashmere sweater, brushing your face against the hard planes of his jawline, sighing in such a needy way, its been so fucking long since you’ve felt this. Felt that physical urge to just get lost in the most primal of ways.

You two crashed into the apartment, tugging at each others clothes and stumbling into the walls, pushing back and forth till you shoved Ransom hard against the hallway wall, rolling into him with a clash of teeth and hisses when his hand fist in your hair, pulling you away to march you two closer to the bedroom, his enormous body crowding you where he wanted you. “Come on Kitten, remind me how good that mouth was again.”

You didn't hesitate to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor and your hands twisted in his trousers to tug at the button and zipper, yanking them down his legs till he stepped from them. “Open.” Ransom demanded while wrapping his hand around his hard cock and jerked it while you looked up at him with a begging expression, you wanted it, him. You tongue fell out to accept his offering. Perhaps you should have felt shame at your desperate actions, at how easily you turned into a whore for Ransom. You had been in a committed relationship with Neil for six months, and here you were breaking it all for a man you sworn yourself from. Ransom was not gentle about taking you apart either, which you had craved his demanding nature the past two years. His cock pressed past your lips into your wet heat, making you widen around him till he hit the back of your throat making you sputter. You tried to pull away instinctively but he held you there for a few seconds till you relaxed. “Thatta girl Kitten.” Ransom praised and his hips started to thrust into your mouth.

“Fuck I missed seeing you like this.” He grunted as he moved your head back and forth, his hands digging into your scalp and fucked into your mouth. You clenched your thighs underneath yourself, wanting to hide that desire to grind into anything for the friction, completely growing wet with the way he just fucked your mouth how he wanted. You slurped on his cock, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, fluttering your tongue against that thick vein while he pressed your mouth to take more, and your nose ended up against the tight dark pubic curls, drool dripped down your chin to leave you ruined looking.

“Grinding yourself against your thigh Slut, I can see those hips moving.” He yanked you off his cock, your tongue darting to kitten lick the red tip while looking up at him as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular thighs while he jerked himself. Seeing he was close you tipped back further as his hold allowed, whining.

“Yes I am Ransom, fuck you for making me this way.” You whined out as you shifted your hips, rubbing your cunt as hard as possible against the back of your foreleg, wanting to get that fulfillment.

He squeezed himself slightly to keep from cumming and dragged you back to your feet, snapping a hand against your ass to get you moving “Then let's take care of that Kitten.” Your fingers dipped into your waistband of your panties shimming them down while Ransom grabbed palmfuls of your ass and ground his cock between your cheeks. “I got to get inside you…” He panted into the curve of your neck and as soon as you reached the bedroom, he pressed you against the dresser just inside the door. Pulling your ass out and his cock pressed between slick folds, pushing himself into you, both of you sighed in relief at the familiar sensation. You stretched around him till you were full of him, and him feeling you wrapped around him so tight, your cunt seemed to swallow him.

He took you from behind, rattling the dresser with each pounding thrust, his hands digging permanent marks into your hips in a ruthless way. A way you had missed, hard demanding ruts, banging your hips into the hardwood of the dresser and your hands tried finding purchase against the wood when he angled and found that sweet spot that only he seemed to be able to find. Making you keen his name and he snapped his teeth, clenching his jaw till the tendons of his neck strained with the power he was slamming into you.

“That was all it took to flood my cock, Kitten, you must be needy.”

You sagged against the dresser but he wasn't over with you yet, it had been years since he had you with him. Man handling you to the bed, you went to your back and he fell over you. Snapping kisses against the sensitive part of your chest to the tops of your breasts, his hand dragged your bra down, the bands straining and lifting your chest off the bed while you dug your hands into his hair, pulling it hard enough for him to moan into your skin and his teeth sink into the top of your breast.

“Ransom, no more marks.” You tried to stop him but he muttered something between the curves, drawing a swipe till he got to your nipple, latching on and pulling on it for it to swell.

“Yea yea, got a boyfriend you can’t let see.” He said in a joking manner as a hand moved underneath you to release your bra, and he shifted your hips to settle underneath him. You slipped your hands along his chest, and curled around his neck, shrugging a shoulder.

“Perhaps, just don't mark me up.” you snapped, and he smothered you again, lip biting kisses as he thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his slender hips, and pulling him in closer.

As his hips rocked into you, slower than before dragging himself back and forth, he lifted to his elbows, looking down at you as you bit your lip, pressing your head back. “What's his name?”

Your eyes spring open as your fingers dig into his back. “W-what Ransom?”

He pressed forward, pinning you into the mattress while grinding into you. “His fucking name Kitten, what is it?” This time when you look up at him, you can see his mouth set in a thin line, and ground himself into you, making you clench around him.

“Why does it matter?” your nails loosen slightly and drag down his back. “You never cared before.”

Ransom then blessed you with that signature smirk, and moved his hand to your throat to tighten, and tighten enough to make you gasp out, the move making you flutter around him. “Because Kitten.” His mouth lowered over yours, teeth sinking into your lip and tongue filling your mouth and stealing the last air from your lungs. “I know you, you will never be satisfied with settling down Y/N. It's not in you. These past two years, have you actually been satisfied like this.”

“A lot changes in those two years Ransom.” You gasped into his mouth, fighting him back now after his words, working your hips back to meet him with each thrust. “Oh better to be like you? Just fucking around. You’ll end up old and lonely without someone in your life.” Your tongue lapped at the roof of his mouth and your eyes rolled up feeling him splitting you apart.

“Come on Kitten, you're not telling me you didn't miss this? Us? You are all I have ever needed, you know that.” Ransom demanded, and you shuddered under him, cumming just then, his hand around your neck tightened all that much further while he chased his own ending this time. Pushing you up the bed till you both were buried in the pillows. Soon you felt him paint your walls, burying himself into you till his body crushed yours down into the mattress, your thighs quivering around his waist and you were panting against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. He lifted his head to look down at you, a brow arched waiting for an answer. “So?”

Your fingers slid up his back and over his shoulders, staring back up at him, wrinkling your nose at him. “Why do you have to make this anything more then a good one last time fuck?” You pushed on his shoulders to turn him to his back and straddled him, covering his mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, okay?”

Ransom's teeth sank into your palm, while grasping your hips and lifting you to sink you onto him.

“Make me Kitten.” he hissed at you in challenge.

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It was early morning when you both were tangled around each other, the sheets pushed off the bed, and you were using Ransom more as your blanket, soaking in that post sex haze that made you all limp. He was half snoring in your hair and you were staring at the ceiling. You closed your eyes with shame and disgust with yourself, since you were going to have to make some lame excuse to Neil about why you didn't answer your phone. As well as why you weren't at your hotel last night.

“I can hear you thinking” Ransom groaned from above you, and you tilted your head up to see an early morning beard starting to prickle his skin, and you shifted to pull back, giving a bit of space while resettling yourself to face him properly.

“You asked me last night if there was someone. There is Ransom… we've been dating just about six months. And he’s a good person, a decent man.”

He rubbed at his face to open his eyes and be able to focus on you, still sleep laced as he spoke once more. “And Y/N? Why are you worried? It's not like we haven’t done this plenty of times, dating someone or not.”

You worried your lip, sighing with a shake of your head. “That hasn't been me since I moved, I left it all behind when I left Boston. But then you come right back, and I’m stupid enough to fuck around with you again. Am I ever going to get you out of my system?”

That made him smirk, and lean into you, kissing you dirty so early in the morning. “Now you're making yourself sound like one of those crazy bitches on the ID channel. Should I be worried about you?”

You snorted against his kiss, pressing him against his chest to make him fall back into his spot in the bed. “If you didn’t get a bullet in your head already after the last time, you should know you're safe.”

His arm circled around your waist, his thumb sweeping back and forth across the small of your back. “I'm glad I’m forgiven for last time Y/N. And this changes nothing that you do with whatever his name is.”

You reached forward and let your fingers trail along the planes of his pecs, feeling guilty, but not regretting it, not really. Ransom had always fulfilled something in you that no one else ever was able to.

“Yea I guess you're forgiven, although it was still a shitty thing to do. Come on, even you have to admit that Ransom. And his name is Neil.” You pushed to hear him admit he was in the wrong, and he rolled his eyes at you, sliding his hand to grasp an ass cheek and squeeze it in his palm.

“Did I just have to say that last time for you to forgive me Kitten? Cause fuck, two years is a long time.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, I fucking hated you back then. I would have still left, I’m just now tolerating you.” You pulled back and moved to sit up at the edge of the bed. “And now I gotta call Neil with some lie about where I was.”

Ransom moved to the other side, reaching for his boxers to slip on. “Just tell him you met up with an old friend Y/N.”

You pushed off from the bed and tugged the first shirt you found, Ransom's sweater while leaving the bedroom to talk to Neil. With luck, he didn't answer, and you just left a message to call you back and that you were safe, that you had met up with some old girlfriends. Glancing around, it occurred to you that Ransom really did live here, not just stay here on occasion. There was mail on the counter, books and manuscripts on the coffee table in the living room, and coats hanging near the door, an abandoned dirty coffee mug near the sink. You started to pick up the clothing you two had scattered through the apartment when Ransom came out, watching you for a moment while leaning against the wall.

“Reach the boyfriend?” He said matter of fact, which you straightened, and glanced back at him while folding some clothes and shaking your head.

“No, but I should probably get ready to go, I'm supposed to be driving home today.” you pluck at his sweater you're wearing and he strides across the room, his fingers sliding under your chin to lift your gaze back up.

“You know Kitten we will never really be done with each other.” He said, tilting his head. “Week from now, five years down the road, it doesn't matter when it happens again. So lose the guilt, it's not good for you. It's just the way it is.”

He was right, you knew he was right and part of you hated him for the fact that he was right. “After all, you don't get anything better than a Thrombey, Kitten.”

Fuck this man for having this hold on you.

Moodboard Prompt- The City

#uglywombat4kchallenge #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fic #knives out au #knives out fic #knives out #ransom drysdale au #amber writes #sweater writes

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kashimos-hajime · 3 years

Note

And Cassian Andor + “It’s only a few bruises” “A few bruises too many” from the Star Wars dialogue list!

here you go!! one out of two down maam!!! ;) and the flavour of requesting cassian,,, i love to see it!!

note: set during rogue one, right after the beginning :)

82. “It’s only a few bruises” “A few bruises too many”

As the leader for one of the Alliance’s elite squad units, there are very few days when you can sleep in. On those days, your squadron knows not to interrupt you unless someone is actively dying, so there are few options for who could be entering the access code to your room the day after you come back from your special op reconnaissance in the Mid Rim.

The door to your room slides open, the blinds automatically opening slowly to let in sunlight into your bunk as you let out a soft groan and a body crawls into bed beside yours, arms wrapping around your waist, a face snuggling against your cheek.

“Morning,” a exhausted, hoarse voice murmurs, pressing a kiss against the bare plane of your shoulder and you shiver, tugging the arm around your waist up so you can hug it against your chest. The blankets twist around your legs as Cassian settles himself right behind you, every inch of his body against yours.

“Please don’t acknowledge the fact that it’s morning,” you groan, turning your face into the pillow to hide it from the sun. “You smell.” Like sweat, ship grease, something windy, and just… a certain stench. You have no idea.

“That is the smell of adventure, lover,” he whispers, now against your neck. “And the planetside stench of the Ring of Kafrene, but I think it’s charming.” Smiling, you try to avoid him catching it but his finger tickles your face, the corner of your mouth, coaxing it out even further until he lets out a victorious laugh and takes hold of your chin with a gentleness you almost never associate with Cassian Andor.

Only ever when he’s with you, alone.

“How long were you out? I got back last night.”

“Four days.”

“And did you get anything?”

“A few scragglers. Not good men, but… people are still people, hm? And important information I already relayed to Mon Mothma.” His index finger traces the curve of your jaw as you smile, curling against the bone and you study the bags underneath his eyes, the weight pulling at his handsome face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Rolling over, you’re about to kiss him, a hand on his chest when he winces and you look down where you’ve placed your palm. Frowning heavily, you look up at Cassian who grabs hold of your wrist.

“I’m fine.”

“Cassian, you’re hurt.”

“Lover—“ Your fingers curl over the buttons of his shirt and you gently yank the collar down, watching the smatters of purple, green, and yellow you can barely see. Sitting up, you push him back and get on your knees, worry striking your chest. Eyes widening, you untuck his shirt and lift it up to look at his stomach, watching the ugly red and blue mix together in a wicked concoction of pain.

Pangs slam into your chest and you sit back on your feet, knees digging into the mattress.

“It’s only a few bruises,” he whispers, reaching forward with a tiny painful twitch of his eyebrows. He grabs your hands, resting on your knees and leans up to kiss you but you don’t return it, the discolouration still burning in your head.

“A few bruises too many, lover,” you whisper, their noses brushing and you look into warm brown eyes, dark enough you could sink into at night, as he cups your face. “What happened?”

“What matters is that I am here. With you.” Smiling faintly, he brushes a thumb underneath your eye and cocks his head. “I will always come back to you. I promise.”

“Cassian, don’t do that.” Don’t make promises you can’t keep. “Just… just be careful.” This time, when he kisses you, you kiss back and your eyes flutter shut as his hand holds onto you tighter, their foreheads knocking into one another. “We’re both going to Yavin 4, did you know? Orders from the brass.”

He nods. “We need to find out more about the planet killer”

“Planet killer?”

“A new superweapon I learned about from my informant.” Your eyes widen but he only cups your face in both hands now insistently, raising his eyebrows and making you look at him. “We have to stop it.” Your fingers wrap around his wrists. “I love you.”

“We can do this, Cassian,” you whisper. “And I love you, too.” Grabbing his face, your fingers curl against his neck when he kisses you again, warmly, gently, yet with that undercurrent of desperation that always happens when they’ve been parted for too long. Deepening the kiss for only a moment, you pull yourself back, soothing the ache of being unable to fulfill the desire thrumming in their blood with two softer kisses against his mouth. “Go shower. I’ll be here when you return.”

He smiles weakly and you brush hair out of his eyes as you only mouth an insistent, ‘Go.’

He does a moment later, but not before making your nose wrinkle in laughter when he steals one last kiss.

join my 4k celebration!

#willowansweringasks #anon #cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor fic #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor imagine #cassian andor imagines #my writing #hayleys4kcelebration

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

To give without knowing (4/ ?)

word count: ~4k

content warnings: Geralt’s self-deprication

Read on AO3

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There was an itch in Geralt’s fingers, the need to take up his knife again and put it to use on a block of wood. Until now, he hadn’t known he could miss carving. It had all just been something he did to pass the time when he had nothing better to do.

But now, even though Jaskier made sure that Geralt didn’t ever get bored, he still felt the urge to create again, like a fire burning in his chest, threatening to burst forth.

Then again, the mere thought of wood carving while Jaskier was there to see churned his stomach.

If Geralt had never committed to that stupid lie that the figures were gifts from the fae, it could have been different. He could have carved while Jaskier composed a new song and they might have teased each other a bit about their lack of progress. But now that Jaskier treasured not only one but two of the supposed fae gifts, even though one was broken, he couldn’t come clean. He couldn’t take this from Jaskier.

Because that’s what he would do. If Jaskier knew that it was Geralt who crafted those things he loved so much, his shining eyes would dull with disappointment, maybe even anger at the lie. After all, Jaskier was a romantic. It was the most natural thing in the world for him to latch on to tales of fae. Believing and dreaming that he had gained the fae’s favour was a beautiful thing that he could even proudly tell people about. There was nothing romantic about a witcher’s gifts. Nothing beautiful. Nothing Jaskier would ever want to tell others about.

So Geralt kept quiet. He could do without carving. It wasn’t a bother to restrain for a while. It wasn’t as if there were any silences that needed to be filled now anyway.

But something was different. The urge to create no longer only came from his restlessness. There was more to it. The moment that Jaskier had picked up the bird figure was etched into Geralt’s mind and he couldn’t let it go no matter how hard he tried. Whenever he saw Jaskier smile at someone else, all Geralt could think about was how Jaskier had beamed at him after unknowingly receiving his gift. Something ugly writhed in Geralt’s chest at the thought that there would come a day that he wouldn’t have the comfort of that memory any longer. The images of Jaskier’s joy being directed at Geralt would fade with time and Geralt would be left cold and alone without that smile.

He wanted to see it again. He needed to.

So he started carving again when he was sure Jaskier couldn’t see. Sometimes Geralt retreated to their room while Jaskier was still making eyes at a pretty person in his audience. Sometimes Geralt would take more time than he strictly needed on a hunt he went on alone, just to get a few minutes to himself in which he could take out his knife and carve away.

It was too little time to create anything worthwhile and he felt bitter frustration rise in him. What use was this secrecy, if he wouldn’t be able to make something pretty for Jaskier again?

So Geralt pocketed his not even half-finished creation and promised himself to not take it out again until Jaskier inevitably left him again, despite his words of wanting to stay with him till winter.

It wasn’t until they were once again camping in the woods that Geralt’s resolve broke.

Geralt was holding watch as he so often did, staring into the darkness surrounding them and keeping his ears open for any possible threat.

It started out small, with muffled noises coming from Jaskier’s bedroll. Tossing and turning. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just as Jaskier chattered away during the day, it sometimes seemed he couldn’t keep himself from mumbling to himself even in his sleep.

Geralt turned his head slightly so he could watch Jaskier’s sleeping form. His arms were slung around his lute protectively and his mouth hang open, drooling a little. Nothing about him spoke of the elegance he put on display whenever he was entertaining a crowd. This was just Jaskier. Unguarded and without the mask he so often put on.

The sight made Geralt’s insides twist and filled him with the strange warmth that always seemed to appear these days when he looked at his friend.

But then Jaskier’s brows drew together into a harsh frown. His lips pressed into a thin line and no more soft snores and mumbled half-words tumbled from his lips. Instead Geralt could hear a soft whimper.

Geralt’s fingers twitched. He wanted to bend down, smooth Jaskier’s frown away with his fingers and stroke his hair gently until Jaskier relaxed again.

But Jaskier wouldn’t want that. Geralt didn’t want to imagine his reaction when he woke up to find Geralt so close to him. What possible explanation could Geralt give then? It was clear that Jaskier wasn’t having actual nightmares. At the most he had a bit of a restless sleep – nothing that wouldn’t fix itself in a matter of minutes. There was no reason for Geralt to comfort Jaskier from such a minor inconvenience, despite how much he wanted to.

If anything, seeing sickly yellow eyes and the sharp features of Geralt’s face that wouldn’t soften no matter how much he tried to look non-threatening, right after he woke up would distress Jaskier even more.

No. It was better if Geralt stayed right where he was.

His hand clenched into a fist and still he couldn’t shake the need to reach out, to touch, to comfort.

He needed something to do with his hands. He needed to distract himself. He needed –

Geralt’s eyes fell onto his bag lying next to Roach.

As quietly as he could Geralt stood up and creeped over to and rummaging through it, always listening for any signs of Jaskier waking up.

When he heard none, he relaxed slightly, until his fingers finally curled around the misshapen wooden figure he had stuffed into the bottom of his pack. With a hammering heart, he pulled it out.

A single night was not enough time to create an intricate design or detailed animal, but it was enough to distract Geralt until Jaskier’s breath evened out again and his frown turned into a slight smile.

Geralt averted his eyes again, focussing instead on the thing in his hand and turning it around, trying to figure out what animal it could become.

“Geralt...”

Geralt froze, the hand holding the wood tightening painfully around it. Slowly he turned to Jaskier, a hundred excuses for what he was doing on his lips.

But when his eyes landed on Jaskier’s face, they didn’t meet blue eyes. Jaskier was still asleep. One of Jaskier’s hands was lovingly caressing his lute in his sleep and his mouth formed unintelligible words once more.

Geralt’s heart jumped into his throat and he had to force himself to tear his eyes away from his friend. He had no right to watch Jaskier sleep. No right to read into his dream-influenced mutterings. No right to imagine what it would be like to lie next to Jaskier and be held so gently in the lute’s stead.

Maybe if Geralt asked, Jaskier would allow him to hold him during the night, when he was blanketed by the dark and Jaskier wouldn’t have to look at him. But come the morning Jaskier would wake up and see Geralt lying in his arms. A mutant. A witcher. A threat despite Jaskier’s reassurances that he would never be scared of Geralt. No night of closeness could be worth the cost of seeing Jaskier flinch back and have his face contort to a grimace when he realised who exactly he had allowed into his bed.

Swallowing thickly, Geralt tightened his grip on the knife until his hand stopped trembling.

With each purposeful slide of his knife against the wood, Geralt gave shape to the least menacing thing he could imagine Jaskier could wake up to.

Quietly, so as not to rouse Jaskier, he placed the sheep next to his head before abandoning his watch. Dawn wasn’t far and Geralt knew even as he laid down as far from Jaskier as he could that he would find no sleep tonight.

All he could do was lie with his back facing Jaskier and pretend not to wait with bated breath for the groan that was a tell-tale sign of Jaskier waking up.

No such groan came. Instead, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, Jaskier let out a small gasp. Geralt heard his heart speed up and it took all his strength not to turn around and watch Jaskier’s reaction to the sheep.

Those wooden figures meant so much to Jaskier, he didn’t deserve to have Geralt’s watchful eyes dampen his excitement. No one liked sharing their reactions to a gift with other people.

Geralt wasn’t going to admit to himself that the real reason he didn’t turn around was that he didn’t want to see Jaskier’s disappointment.

He knew that the figure wasn’t as well-crafted as the other ones had been – and they hadn’t exactly been masterpieces themselves. Still, whereas Geralt had put as much effort into the bird as possible, the sheep lacked any sort of detail or beauty. The mere idea that Jaskier could get excited over a sheep of all things was ridiculous.

Geralt’s stomach twisted into knots as the doubts kept coming. He should have thrown the sheep away. He never should have carved it in the first place. He should have –

A warm hand on his shoulder tore him away from his spiralling thoughts with the suddenness of a bucket of ice water being thrown over his head.

He hadn’t even noticed Jaskier approaching him.

With a lump in his throat, Geralt sat up to face the inevitable disappointment he would find in Jaskier’s face.

Nothing could have prepared him for the radiant smile on Jaskier’s face and the way he was bouncing slightly where he kneeled on the floor, as if he couldn’t contain his excitement. It was the very same expression Geralt had feared he would forget some day. Seeing it again now, made the thought that he could ever not remember it sound utterly ridiculous.

“There were here, Geralt!” His words came out rushed, too excited to take the time to form them fully. “The fae were here and they gave me a gift! Did you see them? You must have!”

The tightness around Geralt’s chest loosened with every word Jaskier spoke.

“I didn’t,” he said, not taking his eyes off Jaskier and the sheep he was cradling close. “Must have already been asleep when they came.”

For a second, Jaskier’s face fell in disappointment, before he perked up once more. “This never happened before. The fae never give their gifts to people directly like this. They always leave them in some secluded place.”

Geralt huffed. “Maybe they just wanted to make sure the right person got it. Or they wanted to give it to you during the night to protect you from bad dreams.”

Geralt’s heart stuttered in his chest and he regretted the words as soon as he had spoken them. It was reckless to reference Jaskier’s disturbed sleep. He shouldn’t say such things and risk Jaskier getting suspicious of him. But it was worth it for the way Jaskier’s eyes widened and his lips twitched in response to Geralt’s words.

“Do you think the fae do that? I never heard of fae influencing dreams.”

Geralt huffed out a laugh and lifted a brow. “Are you telling me you know more about creatures than a witcher?” he said in a teasing tone.

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed and he jabbed a finger at Geralt’s chest. “You, Sir Fae-expert, didn’t even know the fae left gifts at all. And I just so happen to collect all sorts of tales I hear and I say I never heard of fae appearing in the night like that.”

Geralt’s heart dropped. Jaskier didn’t seem to notice it, for a mischievous sparkle entered his eyes. “The only cure I know for bad dreams is being held in the arms of a loved one. So if the fae want to help me sleep, they might want to consider doing that.”

Geralt’s mouth went dry and his mind very much didn’t jump to the image of him holding Jaskier close and burying his face in his neck. He wasn’t a loved one. Not anyone’s and especially not Jaskier’s.

He turned away sharply, praying Jaskier hadn’t noticed the way Geralt had tensed at his words.

“If you don’t like the gift, maybe you should just give it back to the fae then.”

“Absolutely not!” Jaskier shouted in indignation and clutched the sheep to his chest. “I am never giving it back. It’s mine now. And I never said anything about me not loving it.”

Geralt hummed in amusement, the warmth returning to his chest with a vengeance. He couldn’t have ignored it if he tried.

Jaskier’s eyes flickered down to Geralt’s chest and his smile widened. When Jaskier reached out, Geralt’s breath hitched. For a foolish heartbeat he thought Jaskier was going to embrace him. Geralt very nearly opened his arms to welcome it.

Thank all the gods that he hadn’t done it.

For Jaskier didn’t hug him – of course he didn’t – but brushed something off of Geralt’s shirt.

When Geralt let out a surprised sound, the tips of Jaskier’s ears turned read and he quickly took his hand back.

“You got something on your shirt,” he explained, gesturing awkwardly at Geralt’s chest.

Geralt followed the motion with his eyes. Wood shavings clung to him. Harshly, he brushed them away, praying that Jaskier didn’t question where they had come from.

His pulse slowed down to normal when all the reaction he got from Jaskier was a bemused snort and a pat on his shoulder as he stood up again to put his newest treasure away safely.

Geralt’s shoulders sagged in relief. He needed to be more careful next time. Because as he watched Jaskier give the sheep one last adoring look before stowing it away, Geralt knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that there would be a next time. He would do anything to keep that expression of pure happiness on Jaskier’s face. Even if Jaskier would never know it was Geralt who put it there.

---

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