#((but at heart he's a very warm and loving man; and so i love the idea of erika warming up to him))

[rainy-day-gracie]

- wedding night (2) -

A Venus & Mars mini series

pairing: General Acacius x virgin!wife!Reader

content warning(s): reader insert, no use of y/n, arranged marriage, implied age gap but nothing specific, oral (f recieving), fingering, loss of virginity, piv sex, innocence kink, self indulgent praise kink, Acacius definitely talks you through it, discussions of consent because consent is sexy mandatory, discussion of future sexual acts, AFTERCARE because aftercare is hot, general acacius is in loooooove but doesn't know it yet haha, romantic and intimate as hell, grievous historical inaccuracy because it's fucking fanfiction, canon divergent because duh

a/n: So guys. I saw Gladiator II and it was awesome and Pedro Pascal is the sexiest man alive (in my heart). However, this character's name is not Marcus. I don't know who lied, but we've all been fooled. So in this sequel, the general's name is just Acacius in order to stay at least a little bit true to the actual canon.

I definitely will be writing for these two again because holy shit I made this romantic and I love them so much.

Read wedding night (1) here!

Read bloodlust here!

---

Acacius saw heaven in your eyes, a piece of salvation he never thought he might be able to grasp with his blood-stained hands.

He glanced down your body, wrapped beautifully in your white wedding gown, gold jewelry shining in warm candlelight. For a moment, he wondered Venus herself were tricking him with her immortal seduction.

But the blush of red in your cheeks, the shine of desire in your eyes, the beat of your heart in your chest....

No immortal possibly could mimic such evidence of true, temporary, and precious life.

Acacius had been with plenty women in his lifetime, had thought he understood what desire was.

I want you, you had said.

Now, he thinks he's only scratched the surface.

---

The general-- Acacius -- peered at you like a starving man at a feast, drinking you in, turning the wheels in his head of what he wanted to do first.

He grasped your hand in both of his, studying the golden band on your ring finger. Evidence of your gods-blessed union.

"I want to see you wearing nothing.... except for this," Acacius breathed, his voice low, and dreamy, like the words were slipping from him with no control.

"I'd like that very much," you said, trying to keep your hand from trembling under his touch.

"May I strip you bare, darling?" He asked, calloused fingertips fiddling with the clasp on your golden bracelet.

"Yes."

Instantly, the bracelet fell, and then the other, and then the other. Acacius' gentle touch drove you wild, methodical and sure. He stopped for a moment, glancing at the purity ring on your pinky, and smirked in a way that nearly made your knees buckle.

Glancing back up to your gaze, he held your stare as he pulled the purity ring off. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from yours, letting you smell the sweet cherry wine on his breath.

"Kiss me," you mumbled.

Acacius' smirk remained. "Patience, darling."

He tucked the purity ring into a pocket of his tunic, and turned you around, so your back pressed against his chest. A sigh caught in your throat, realizing he had turned you both to face the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

"Answer me honestly," he said, trailing one of his knuckles down the exposed skin of your spine. "Have you ever touched yourself?"

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you shivered at his light touch. "Uh..."

"Don't you lie to me, now. It's a great sin to lie to your husband," he whispered, his teeth nipping lightly at your ear.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I- I've touched myself. I've touched... my..."

"Your cunt?" Acacius mused.

You nodded, your chest rising heavily.

"Did you… like it? When you touched yourself?"

"N-no. I've been told it is not ladylike, to... pleasure yourself in that way."

Acacius kissed the back of your neck, making you arch into his touch. "Oh, my poor darling... there's nothing more ladylike in the world. Don't worry... I will show you how."

A full whimper escaped you at that, and Acacius undid the knots of your dress with a chuckle.

The dress fell, leaving you in only your loincloth, tied at your waist. But Acacius was looking at something else.

His eyes were transfixed on your perked breasts, his mouth slightly open as he wrapped one of his hands around the soft flesh. A high-pitched sigh left your throat, and he reached around with his other hand to take hold of the other breast.

"Do you like it when I hold you like this?" Acacius murmured, his mouth at your temple. He twitched his fingertips to pinch your nipples softly, making you close your eyes in pleasure. "Look at me."

Snapping your eyes open again, he stared you down in the mirror with a small devilish grin. He pinched your breasts again, pulling an answer from you. "Yes, Acacius."

"Good girl," he praised, your cunt throbbing at the words. He let go of your breasts, untying the cloth at your hips until you were utterly bare before him, save for your wedding ring. "Lie down on the bed, darling."

He brushed a palm over your plush backside, guiding you towards the beautiful linen bed. Plenty big for two.

You obey with a shy smile, sinking into the blankets and pillows like you were always meant to fit there. Watching from your comfortable bed, Acacius loomed over the foot, undoing buttons on his tunic, and ties on his robes.

Your lips parted slightly as he exposed the tan, scarred skin of his chest, flickering candlelight bathing him in a warm glow. He studied your expressions like a hawk, watching for any sign of discomfort or displeasure.

As he unlaced the toga and loincloth, leaving him as bare as you were, you had to keep yourself from gasping.

His cock hung heavily between his legs, not even fully aroused but still bigger than anything you had anticipated. He wrapped a hand around his manhood, smirking at your expression, but mercifully saying nothing about it.

“I am curious, my wife,” Acacius began, his voice a rumble. He pulled himself onto the marriage bed, caging you in the sheets with his arms and legs straddling. His eyes never left yours. “What did they say about me? When you learned of our union, what whispers crossed your ears?”

You licked your lips, speaking suddenly a challenge. “Um, that you w-were brave…”

Acacius leaned down, pulling one of your legs over his broad shoulders.

“…and strong…”

He mirrored the motion with your other leg, leaving your weeping cunt exposed.

“…a-and…”

Acacius paused, waiting for your answer. “And?”

“General, I shouldn’t speak ill…” you moaned, wondering if one could combust with desire.

“Tell me the truth, darling. Or you won’t get what you so eagerly want.”

“Th-they said you were cruel,” you stammered, desperately, any wall of self preservation coming down. “They said you took anything you desired, washed your hands with blood, and violence was the only language you spoke. Your rage eclipses that of Achilles, and your eyes blacken every time you raise a banner. You are of Mars himself, shedding blood like you were born to it.”

Acacius’ smirk from between your legs was wicked, and he broke your gaze for the first time since lying on the bed.

He studied your open cunt with a glazed expression, like he was lost in the pleasure of staring at your slick desire.

“If I am of Mars then you are of Venus, my darling.”

His words filled you with affection, the way his knees bent on the bed almost like he was worshiping an altar between your legs.

“So pure…” he murmured, as if the words had slipped from his lips.

Your back arched like a bow as he licked a stripe up your soaking slit, sighs escaping from your throat.

Acacius hummed with delight, fucking you on his tongue lazily, drinking your desire like nectar of the gods.

You buried your hands in his hair hesitantly, unsure of what would be pleasing to him. In all the times you eavesdropped on the married women of the court, never once had they mentioned anything like… this. Never once had they mentioned any of the overwhelming pleasure racking every limb of your body. Never once had they mentioned the lightning erupting over your skin with every brush of his calloused palm.

Acacius trailed his hands down your arched torso, cupping your breasts as his mouth traced patterns over your cunt. Your breathy moans made him chuckle into your flesh, the vibrations making you lift your hips with pleasure.

Throbbing built in your pussy, clenching around his tongue as your desire jumped at every brush of his lips.

“A-Acacius, gods…” you cried out, throwing your head back as a pinnacle raced towards you.

“Relax, my darling,” Acacius breathed, bringing one of his hands down to rest at your soft inner thigh. “I’m going to put my hands on you now.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, unsure of what it was you were begging for.

“Tell me if it becomes too much,” Acacius said, and his hand on your thigh moved.

The gentle brush of his rough fingertips on your slick folds had you gasping anew, pulling lightly on the locks of his hair.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Acacius mumbled to himself. “I have half a mind to just keep you like this.”

You whined in protest, your hips chasing his touch.

“So needy for a virgin.”

You threw your head back as his finger pushed past your slick folds, reaching spots inside of yourself that you hadn’t known existed.

“Oh, so tight, my love. You truly are pure.” Acacius curved his finger, brushing against something spongy, and sensitive. A guttural moan escaped your throat, and he laughed softly. “When the pleasure peaks, do not fight it. Let it take you away, somewhere only you and I exist.”

You nodded at his command, closing your eyes as your head sunk into the linen pillows.

Unrestrained cries erupted from you as he pulled his finger out, and in, and out again, hitting that sweet spot with every push inside of your aching cunt.

When he pressed his tongue to the bud at the top of your core, he pushed a second finger deep into your slick, making you wonder if the gods truly did become man. The stretch of his fingers pricked a pain deep within, making you clench tighter around his calloused fingertips. A slight brush of his rough facial hair against your core was your ultimate undoing.

You called out his name as the pleasure rushed down your spine, into your belly, and built in your desperate cunt. He knew it, too, and continued to thrust his fingers deep inside with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue licked against your clit with hunger, tipping you over the edge.

Cries escaped your lips as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every muscle in your body going taut as the desire took over. Your cunt clenched tightly, chasing his fingers, and your spire curved with tension as the wave of lust claimed you.

Acacius watched with a lazy smile as your core squeezed with your orgasm, evidence of your desire dripping off his lips.

“Acacius… Acacius…” you breathed as the climax subsided, your body relaxing into the bed once more.

“How do you feel, darling?” Acacius asked, crawling back up to press his nose against yours. His brown eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with adoration.

In place of an answer, you buried your hands in his curly, soft hair, pressing his lips to yours. He responded instantly, capturing your mouth with the passion of love and war.

His tongue pushed against yours, pure want seeping from every brush of his lips against yours. You gasped as his hands cupped your hips gently, like he was making sure you were a solid thing he could hold in his hands. Like he was worried you might slip through his fingers.

“I want more,” you whispered against his mouth, and he nodded with his eyes closed, like he was dreaming.

“It will hurt for a moment, but I will be gentle with you,” Acacius breathed, trailing light kisses against your throat. “Tell me when there is pain, or if you wish to stop.”

You nodded against his temple, and he pulled his lips back instantly.

“Say you want me, darling. Say you will tell me to stop if you wish.”

The intensity in those brown eyes, the desperation, had you squirming with desire once again.

You held his face in your hands, tracing your thumb against his rough stubble, studying him.

Acacius' nose was utterly Roman, looking like it had possibly been broken once or twice. Every mark on him was evidence of a man that had seen the Underworld and walked away, but not without a few scars to show for it. Though he had been nothing but gentle with you, there was no doubt he could live up to his reputation of bloodletting.

Still, you held him close.

"I want you, Acacius. I will tell you to stop if I wish to." There was no hesitation, no tremor in your voice.

He sighed in relief, reaching down to his hard cock and bringing it between your legs. You whined at the sensitive touch, and he grunted at the slickness of your folds.

"So wet for me, darling, so perfect," he moaned in your ear, guiding the soft flesh of your thighs to wrap around his hips.

Tentatively, he rubbed his cock up and down your core, getting you accustomed to the blunt feeling. You whined breathlessly, near begging for him to fuck you already.

"Patience, darling. I need to go slow to not hurt you," he mumbled.

The blunt head of his cock pushed past your sensitive folds, and you dug your nails into the strong muscles of his back.

Acacius let out a guttural groan into the heated skin of your neck. "So wet, and tight."

You called his name like a prayer, your head tossed back in pain and pleasure. Over and over again, you called his name.

"A little more, easy, easy..." Acacius moaned, pushing further into your virgin cunt.

You cried out in pinching desire. "S-so much, Acacius..."

"I know, darling. We're halfway there."

You held tight to him, his rough hands on your soft skin distracting you from the stretch of your cunt around his cock. "H-halfway?"

Acacius chuckled, holding still inside of you to let you adjust. "You feel... divine. So, so perfect, my sweet wife."

A high pitched moan escaped you as he pulled back slightly, kissing your neck as he pushed farther in. You clenched around him, and his lips on your clammy skin sent a fresh wave of lust panging though you.

But Acacius stopped, and you gasped in pain again, as if he had hit a barrier in your core he couldn't push past. You knew he could bottom out if he so wanted, but not without tearing you deeply.

Instead of pushing forward, he stayed where he was inside of you, tracing his nose along the curve of your jaw.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost like he didn't mean for you to hear his words.

"Do you want to know what I want, darling?"

You were too breathless to answer.

Acacius continued. "I want to fuck you so well that all of Rome hears you calling my name. I want to mark you with my mouth so you may look in the mirror and think only of me. I want fall to my knees and thank the gods that gave you to me. But for now, my darling... I want you to come on my cock with your most divine cunt."

Your cunt, as if on command, fluttered, and you moaned as he was able to fill you to the hilt without a pinch of discomfort.

"Oh, yes," Acacius whispered, his tongue darting out along your pulse point. You cried out in pleasure as he shifted inside of you, holding tight to his strong back.

"You... are... perfect, darling," he panted, thrusting slowly, in and out, in and out. "So warm, and tight..."

"Acacius, please..."

"Please... what?" Acacius teased, biting your bottom lip slightly as he pushed back into you.

"More... more," you said, digging your nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

Acacius responded in kind, chuckling at your desperation. "As my lady commands."

His thrusts into your aching cunt deepened, becoming harder as you grew needy for his strength. You tossed your head back with a high-pitched cry when he was able to hit that perfectly sensitive spot inside of you, and the reaction made him even more ravenous for you.

"Oh, you take my cock so well," Acacius praised, the words making your cunt clench around him. "So, so good, my darling."

As if he knew what you needed before you did, he pulled his chest away from yours, sitting up on his knees while thrusting into you. He looped his wide arms underneath your spread legs, angling you upwards on his thighs and pulling your hips up off of the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you arched your back off the sheets with a shriek of delight.

"Acacius, Acacius," you cried out, the new angle sending him deep into your core, hitting spots you hadn't even known existed.

"That's it, say my name," Acacius said with a smirk. "Say my name when I fuck you, tell all of Rome who is making you feel this good."

You couldn't stop, the falling of his name from your lips dripping like sweet honey. All you could feel was the sweat of his skin against yours, the calloused of his hands as they gripped your soft thighs closely, and the depths of your core his cock was able to reach.

"You're going to cum for me," Acacius ordered, his words coming out in pants of breath. "You're going to cum for me, because you're a good girl. You're a good girl, aren't you? Letting me fuck her virgin cunt so nicely, such a good girl..."

At his praise, your cunt tightened around his cock, back arching like a bow. As you came, he pressed a calloused hand into the flesh above your pelvis, the pressure making your high all the more intense. You cried out his name, over and over again, the two of you becoming the only people in the world as the tidal wave of pleasure overwhelmed you.

Acacius' thrusts into your aching core sped, became less focused, and you knew he was losing control himself as you came apart underneath him. Your name fell from his lips as he pressed his hand further into the spot below your belly, where his cock seemed to bulge into his palm as your cunt pulsed around him.

"Such a good girl, such a good wife," he moaned. Only when your core could only twitch in response to his strong thrusts did he slow, leaning back over you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

A warmth pooled within you, evidence of his pleasure. You didn't know if you'd ever felt such an intimate connection with anyone as you did with him, his kiss burning a brand into your heart as the heat of passion faded.

Acacius pulled away after a moment, breathing heavily against your throat. "Hold still a moment," he warned. His palms pressed against your hips, his cock sliding from you with a slight sting. You followed his advice, your legs feeling weak and shaky.

You studied him as he crossed the bedchamber to the washroom, his broad back dimpling with the movement. Returning with a clean cloth and a faint smile on his lips, the dimple in his cheek made your heart swell as he saw your sprawled body on his massive bed.

"Feeling comfortable?" Acacius asked, eyebrows raised with amusement.

You nod, watching him as he crossed over to you, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as he carefully wiped your messy core.

Breaking from your lips for a moment, he pressed his nose against yours, and you cherished the gentle, intimate gesture.

"Shall I call the servants for a hot bath?" Acacius mumbled, tossing the cloth aside.

"A hot bath sounds divine, but only if we may take one together," you reply, slightly giddy.

Acacius furrowed his brows in confusion. "What is making you laugh, my darling?"

You kissed him again, long and slow. Time stood still, and it was as if you could physically feel the bond forging between the two of you, forging in a slow burn of a crackling fire. It was warm, and easy, and comforting.

You broke away, studying him in his eyes. "You are simply... not what I expected."

Acacius smiled, that damn dimple curving in his cheek.

The most feared general on the continent.

Your husband.

Acacius kissed your forehead. "You, my darling, are everything I've been dreaming of."

---

taglist (people that asked to be tagged in part 2): @marianastudiesart @joeldjarin @fallout-girl219 @shantellorraine @lanadelslay69-420 @pedrofan

my request box is open! would love to hear y'all ideas for Joel, Acacius, Javier, or Oberyn :)

[vicsy]

Max's phone has been on mute for a week now but Daniel's message comes through regardless. He singles it out through the endless blocks of notifications, patting his still damp hair with a fluffy towel.

hey did they show you the vid yet?

Max breaks into a smile, his whole face creasing when he catches his reflection in the mirror by the bathroom door. He taps on the screen with one finger, stringing together a response.

are you going to ask if you looked good in it? or what

Daniel doesn't make him wait. Max is tugging on a t-shirt when a bunch of middle finger emojis flood his screen. He picks up his phone off the bedside table and disconnects the charger cable. Another message from Daniel pops up.

ya little shit I knew 4th title will get to your head

It's Max's turn to take a page out of Daniel's book and abuse those middle finger emojis before he actually replies, dropping the towel on the floor next to the bed.

of course it was maybe 7/10 I'm being nice because you were very nice to me

Daniel reacts to his message with a broken heart emoji, which is pretty advanced for him. Max stands in the middle of his hotel room, phone in hand, watching the typing dots appear and disappear like his life depends on it.

you wound me Maxy I'm never not nice to you anyway wanted to send you something extra

It's a video. Not a long one. Max watches a file pop up and the download starts. The preview looks just like Daniel from the one he saw already — same outfits, same cap, his scruffy beard; same look on his face reserved for Max and Max only. It leaves him confused and rightfully exasperated. He types, watching a progression circle overlayed over the video fill out almost completely:

you just want me to have your part so I can tell you how beautiful you are?

A smile inadvertently tugs up the corner of his lips. Daniel won't see it but Max wishes he would. Not like wishing is ever enough.

Daniel sends him another message as the video finally loads.

just watch it, Maxy promise it's a banger

Max hits play.

It starts off the same. Daniel's curls are peeking from under the cap as he talks and Max's eyes linger. His voice scratches the parts of Max's brain that have been permanently altered over the years Daniel spent by his side. He's managed to learn most of Daniel's heartfelt speech by heart, memorise the minuscule changes of his expression; all the meaning hidden from naked eye but glaring into Max's soul though Daniel's gaze, warm and achingly familiar.

"You're the man," his recording says, his tone identical. Then Daniel licks his lips instead of following a script Max expects. His heart somersaults in his chest in anticipation. Daniel says, then, staring directly at him as if they're not worlds apart but sitting face to face: "And I love you."

Max blanches. On the screen, Daniel shakes his head and laughs, something evasively fond about the crow's feet around his eyes appearing more visible than ever.

"Yeah, no, they can't use this. Can't let them have this one now, can we? Imagine the scandal. I'll do another," Max's mind goes through a rapid meat grinder. The hand holding his phone become cold like he's just been dunked into an ice bath and plucked out just to be thrown on the scorching hot desert sand in Qatar. "This one is just for you, Max. Yeah, um."

He parks his ass on a chair. Barely manages not to miss it, pulled down by the gravity that exists outside of his control and the gravity of Daniel's words. Max's thumb hovers on the rewind button, but phone Daniel speaks up again, looking down. The video twitches from side to side like his hand was shaking as he was recording. Max doesn't miss it. Or maybe it's that his hands aren't steady when they're not clutching the steering wheel.

"Right. I'll be sending this later. So you get double the love," Daniel makes himself sound intentionally goofy, plays it down. Not his best attempt. Max's grip on the phone becomes crushing; Daniel grip on his heart is just as tight. Daniel removes his cap, puts it aside and passes fingers through the mess of his curls. To Max, it's like a kick to the ribs. When on-screen Daniel carries on, his voice grows thick. "Kinda wish I was there but. Sticks and stones, Max. I'm so fucking proud of you. And I, uh. I really mean it. Everything. So, yeah. I'll stop blabbering now," Daniel looks away from the camera for a moment. Blinks, so hard, like something's gotten into his eyes. There's static filtering through the speaker of Max's phone. Then Daniel looks back and Max can't fathom the glint in his eyes. He says, with a smile so impossibly tender, saluting Max with his cap: "Fourth in a row, huh? Go enjoy yourself for me, champ."

The video cuts off.

Max stares at the screen. He doesn't hit replay or lock his phone. But he wants to. Max taps on Daniel's name at the top instead, misses the button he needs and ends up opening his contact photo. It's an older one — Daniel is holding up three fingers, pulling a funny face. He's somewhere sunny and bright. Max keeps on staring, stunned and flayed open, until it all hits him with renewed force.

His frantic call to Daniel goes through without a hitch. He picks up on a second ring and Max jumps the start, just this once.

"Daniel–"

He stumbles. It's unnerving, as if he's stalled his car which hasn't happened in years. Max can't manage to get a word past the lump in his throat. And it's all futile because Daniel beats him to the finish line. And, for one, Max is glad it's him.

"No, wait. Wait, Max. Hold your horses. You come to Perth or, like, I can fly out to Monaco when the season's over," Daniel sucks in a hard breath. For as long as he doesn't speak, Max keeps his breathless silence, waiting. Daniel clears his throat, his voice soft and measured in Max's ear. He hangs on to Daniel's every word. "We're gonna do this the right way. I just– yeah, I just had to let you know. In case someone else was gonna convince you otherwise. Or whatever, ya know?"

Max makes a noise, something between a snicker and a sob. It punches out of him and it's a little embarrassing but who gives a shit when Daniel's words are stuck on a loop In Max's brain. Couldn't ever be anyone else to make his mind race on a track of its own.

"You should know," he starts. On the other side of the line, Daniel emits a similar noise to the one that clawed its way up Max's throat. Max screws his eyes shut, then opens them quickly, his vision fuzzy. He looks down at his feet, one sock missing. Presses his phone firmer to his ear, trying to bridge the insurmountable distance dividing him and Daniel, hopping over the chokehold of overarching emotions. "After all this years, you know. I don't listen to what other people say. It's a bit of shit timing, Daniel."

Daniel's chuckle is wobbly. So is Max. From the top of his head to the tip of his toes.

"Yeah, tough luck, I know," he says. He's not home, by the sound of it. Max has lost track of the timezones since they can't even share one, not anymore. Daniel sounds more like himself when he asks: "Still. I reckon you enjoyed the video?"

Max doesn't speak for a length. He thinks it over and over — and I love you and I love you and I love you. Thinks how much shit has burned down the line; how Daniel's dreams became flammable the exact moment Max's aspirations wrapped themselves in layers and layers of fireproof armour.

With a hand laid over his sternum where Daniel can't see, Max says, precariously balancing his tone:

"Yes, Daniel. You indeed looked very lovely on my screen."

It's worth tiptoeing around the subject. For all of Max's reticence, his joke lands where he wants it to. Daniel's laugh is akin to a sound of a dozen champagne bottles popping, fizzling, all of it pouring over Max's body and soaking him through.

"Thanks a bunch," in the aftermath, Daniel gets eerily quiet. Then he repeats, with airtight conviction: "I mean it."

And I love you, Max recalls. The words stick to his tongue, his breath hitching, twisting knots inside his chest. It doesn't feel fair. He rubs his knuckles into his eyes, phone smushed between his shoulder and cheek, until all Max sees is a patches of black interspersed with made up visions of the sun setting over a house with Daniel's name on it.

"I know," Max says, wispy. "But you shouldn't fly to Monaco."

"Uh, Max?" Daniel calls out to him, cautious. Max can imagine the exact look on his face. "Not following you."

"I'm going to come to Australia," Max barely avoids his voice breaking. A handful more days and Daniel will cease to be just a recording on his phone; a voice in his ear. A presence under his skin. "To you."

"Alright," Daniel echoes after a pause. "Whatever you want, Max. I'll stay put."

"Daniel, and," Max's heart pounds against his ribs, threatening to break his bones, but the enormity of raw feeling negates all the pain that comes with it. He swallows, blinks once and the clear cut picture of what future holds bleeds into his vision. Max keeps it a secret, stashes it into his pocket, and says to Daniel, with just a smidge of hesitancy: "When I get there. To you?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll mean it, too."

[red-doll-face]

Getting caught in the rain with Arthur leads to him finding creative ways to warm you up.

(high honor) arthur morgan x fem. reader

I love this trope! prob been done before but I cant resist... 😔Can you believe I wanted this to be a short head canon post?? LMAO it ended up way longer than that. That's why it has a more casual thing going on despite being super long 🥲Happy thanksgiving! This is for the girlies who are stuck with family and need something absolutely filthy to read !!! 💕💕💕💕💕

Warnings: NSFW content, vaginal sex, while honor isn't too relevant, arthur is very sweet and hes kind of a weenie here, in a good way! arthur does not have bad intentions here, he's genuinely a sweet little man...

-

Thinking of begging Arthur to take you away from camp for a while. Maybe you haven't had a bath in a bit or you're sick of hearing Swanson drunkenly parade around camp. But you've decided to ask Arthur, he's always so sweet to you and you know he won't say no. And Arthur and his stupid bleeding heart (the one that bleeds so much more for you) grumbles and pretends he's thinking about it but really he'd probably say yes to anything that came from your lips. He has no regrets when he sees the smile you give him. You're hoisted up onto the back of his horse, holding onto his waist so you don't fall. Arthur is desperately trying to play it cool. 

Then the rain starts coming down, you're soaked through very quickly and Arthur, such a gentleman, sheds his coat to give it to you, except now he is soaked through as well. The both of you are freezing and he tells you that you have to stop until the weather clears. He’s cussing up a storm worse than the one you're in. You nod, just wanting to be warm, wracked by shivers. He comes up on an abandoned shack and guides you inside, shutting the rain out. You're standing in the center of the room, looking like a wet cat after a miserable bath, Arthur is kind enough to take his coat off of you, giving you a ratty old, moth bitten blanket but it doesn't do much of anything for the cold. Trying to get a fire going proves fruitful but it's a small one and the wind blowing in from the flue almost puts it out several times.

Arthur feels so helpless, sitting there watching your teeth start to chatter as you sit in front of the pathetic little fire. He's trying to apologize (Ah, I’m sorry, I didn't know it was gonna come down like that,) but you only tell him it's not his fault. He has to help, all he wants to do is help. Things aren't getting any better and he doesn't want you to come down with something on account of him being an idiot. And then he gets an idea. He’s red all over flushed at the thought but he knows taking your soaking clothes off would help. And he's standing there, awkwardly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while he tries to hide under his hat. He’s gently clearing his throat, trying to get your attention. 

“Maybe we could try… I…could…” he's nervously stumbling through his words and he's looking at you, sitting on the floor, desperately trying to warm your hands by the fire. You look up to him but he can hardly speak, so enraptured by the look of utter trust, reliance on him. His mouth hangs open but he swallows the lump of spit in his mouth. He tries to shake off these boyish jitters he gets around you. “Uhhh- I mean, it would be better if we weren't sittin’ round in these clothes, I guess, can’t be doin’ you any good...”  

“Really, you think so…?” Your voice is quiet and meek, struggling to say anything past the clicking of your teeth and the shivers. “Well then, turn around, Arthur,” at your obvious attempt to be modest, he nods stiffly and turns towards the wall, listening to you take your dress and your underskirts off, landing in a wet plop on the floor. You whine, peeling yourself out of your undergarments before a quiet ok leaves your lips. He turns and you're desperately covering yourself with that dusty blanket, legs bare, fabric hardly long enough to cover the soft mound between your legs, the fat of your inner thighs squished together. Arthur has a hard time keeping his gaze from locking onto any of the inviting bits of skin you show him. You're embarrassed, biting your lip, squeezing your arms around yourself. 

“Aren't you gonna- Arthur, you're gonna do it too, right?” Arthur has a hesitant nod and a course even though he just now thought he should probably follow along to help make you more comfortable. He’s removing his hat first, nothing to hide under now and he notices that you watch him take his gun belt off, unfastening his suspenders from his pants. You finally look away, his boots and his pants are peeled off and his shirt is unbuttoned. He’s breathing heavily now, naked as the day he was born. But you won't stop shivering. Your hair is still wet. And the fire is struggling to warm you from the bitter cold that clings to the dusty air. There isn't much left to burn for the fire. 

“You want me to hold you?” It's out of his mouth before he can stop it, trying to smack away these thoughts about the glimpses he’s getting of your naked figure underneath the blanket. He swears it's only out of necessity, that you're just not warming up fast enough. “Don’t want you gettin’ sick on me,” He really does only want you comfortable. Unrealistically hoping this won't change what you most likely consider a friendship. You nod, vigorously. 

“I think it would be ok, maybe if you just didn’t- didn’t look. Just- don’t look,” and you're desperate, curling up in his lap in front of the wavering fire. You're unable to look at him, but you still rub into him, enjoying how his body warms up a lot faster than yours. And both of you make some excuse that things would be better without that old blanket between you two. And suddenly you're pressed into him, his arms tight around you while he looks at the ceiling to avoid staring at things he shouldn't. Arthur struggles hard to keep from rubbing upwards into you, trying to keep you from sitting directly between his legs, afraid the way his body reacts to the feel of your body will scare you, scandalize you. But you only seem to want to be there more, getting comfortable with him. His chest hair tickles you, the hair creeps all the way down his torso. You giggle softly as it tickles you. His heart beats fast at the feel of you, so soft compared to the roughness of him.

As if all of the blood hasn't already rushed down to the very center of him, you just have to sit squarely on his lap. He tries to readjust you but it's too late and you've felt him, hard as a rock, pushing at you. He's so embarrassed, stumbling over an apology, “Shit-I-I’m sorry, I-” in that surly voice, all rough and low. you gasp and look over your shoulder. You see how he can hardly stand to look at you with his pretty blue gem-toned eyes. Instead he shows you his profile as he turns away. 

“It's ok”, Arthur has no idea how he's supposed to look at you after this, he can't see himself looking you in the eyes for a long while after you've felt his cock nudging the swell of your ass, unable to deny his own reaction to you. Hopefully he’ll be able to dismiss it as a fluke and not a devastating hope that you’d be interested in him that he's been crushing down for months now. He's trying to will away the burgeoning desire just under his skin, tamping down fires that rage on. And you look up at him again with that look of trust in your eyes, too ashamed to continue touching you, wholeheartedly convinced you don't like him. 

But then you're only closer than you were, looking up at him, so close, he's breathing in your scent, sweet and like fresh summer rain. His eyes search yours for any inclination and all you have to do is put your hand on his prickly cheek for him to lean and kiss you, hands on his broad chest, rushing over the warmth you can feel. How he ends up with you on his lap, tits pressed up against his hairy chest, his big hands squeezing at your hips, he's not too sure. Your arms are over his shoulders, playing with his light brown hair sweetly, rubbing the sore muscles in his back. And the glide of his tongue over yours is heaven, he swears. You whine into his kisses, the heat between the both of you licks over your skin, noses clumsily bumping into each other. 

Then he’s on top of you, tucking you over the blanket. “You gotta tell me you want this, want me,” and all you can do is say “Yes, please, Arthur, please,” features showing your ecstasy, anticipating his hands on you.

His hands are rough; petting down your sides. Any worries he had about being too old, too ugly and too brutish for you are forgotten when you kiss him, spread your legs for him to fit between them. When you push your breasts in his hands when he goes to touch them. Your nipples are hard from the cold but his hands start to warm them up when he gropes at them, squeezing languidly at your breasts, grabbing handfuls.

It's not long before he’s pinning your thighs up with his hands, spreading you and licking eagerly between your legs, so selfless. Letting you moan as loud as you like, telling you how good you taste, the roughened pads of his fingers circling at the sensitive button at the top of your slit. And he's so strong, doesn't put much effort into keeping your legs up. He has dulcet praises for you, “Such a pretty girl, darlin’, jus’ beautiful,” making you soften and ease.

He’s so warm, holding you, like you wanted him to, messy kisses that taste like you. The very tip of him catches on you, dipping softly between your folds. Your nails dig into him, thighs clench tight. He's sweet talking to you, shushing you, rubbing hard at the delicate little nub, getting you as wet as possible. Saying how good you look. How he must be dreaming. That’s my girl is what he says when you soak his fingers with your own arousal, heat rising to the apples of your cheeks. Even more when he's working his cock inside of you, panting, he seems overwhelmed, mumbling and groaning praises to you, his sweet girl, perfect in that slow easy voice of his. You feel him carefully easing you open, hissing at the feel of you wrapped tight on him and leaking down his shaft. You can't say much but his name, begging him not to stop, feeling his fingers almost bruise the tender softness of your hips. 

Arthur pushes so deep, a growl of pleasure leaking from his lips. You didn't think he would feel so big. Telling him how big he is and feels; “You're so big, Arthur,” in a wispy moan, makes him groan. He just wants to hear how much you like him. The rhythm he was trying to keep slow and careful speeds up. And he doesn't last very long, poor thing. It's been a while for him and he's flushed bright red, embarrassed and feeling a tad emasculated. The disappointed son of a bitch he lets out has you petting his hair back tenderly.

But all you have to do is give him a minute, kiss and nip gently, lock your legs around him so he can't pull away, until he's pushing his own seed deeper, mindlessly pinning you under his weight. He loves feeling so close to you, so small underneath him. 

The way you feel clenching down on him, moaning for him, begging him to keep going has him rutting into you, following his instincts, brain feeling like it's melting. He's harder than he has ever been, listening to the sound of your wetness slide on him, the mess he’s left between your thighs sounding dirty and sticky. You don't have to tell him to keep rubbing you, grinding your hips into his so he can press into the perfect spot. 

His thumb is rubbing at the very center of you, that tender bud, so sensitive, has you pushed to the edge and falling over, legs locking up behind him, bucking and moaning much too loud. You sink your fingers into the layer of fat over his broad muscles, arching your back, feeling so complete. Seeing you so relaxed, feeling so good because of him makes him push as deep as he can, making your toes curl, forcing more of his cum even deeper, a sloppy wet mess that drips out of you when he pulls out. But he revels in those few moments where he's catching his breath, still so deep inside of you, feeling you pulse on him. 

Arthur can’t not hold you afterwards, unsure what to say. He thinks it might be too soon for I love you, maybe you’ll be scared away by his raw sentiments and his lovesick words. But you stare into his eyes; his heart jumps when he blurts it out in the silence, too late to shut his damn mouth. But you only smile and say you love him too. You're the farthest thing from cold, tucked into his chest, not even noticing that the rain has stopped.

Thank you for reading! SO sorry this ended up being so long. Excited to write more for high honor arthur, this was more fun than i thought... I love him 😔😳

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

okay hear me out…butch4butch Sevika where Sevika is a power bottom???👀 reader is taller and stronger than her but very shy and intimidated by her🙈

Pairing: Powerbottom!Sevika x gentle giant-service top! reader

Warnings: ns/fw, fingering, cunnilingus, grinding/dry humping, smoking, mentions of violence, and horny lesbian activityyyy

Word count: 3k

A/N: Love you. Love this. You have come to the right place for this one, my friend. The lack of butch4butch Sevika content is criminalll if that woman has a type it begins with D and ends in Y-K-E-S. Anyways, how appropriate is it that my first fic is butch4butch Sevika smut. Checks out. (that being said, it is my first fic so you freaks betta be NICE) Now without further ado…

You Have No Idea

By ButchVampireHeimerdinger

It was the slow ending to an eventful shift at the last drop. Customers were in good spirits all night, likely due to a sudden influx of Piltie goods some gang had rattled up through more or less honorable means and was making its way through town. In any case, the energy was contagious and it had you, the buff and generally even-tempered server/bouncer, doing things you didn’t normally do. Like drink on the job — just a beer you had been nursing for over forty minutes — and fraternize with patrons. Y’know, other than the obligatory how are you, do you wanna pay out now or open a tab. Real actual conversations -- which led you to number three on the list of Things You Don’t Normally Do; you were hunched over the bar playing Texas Hold ‘Em with three regulars. Two were men, you didn’t remember their names, but they always came to the bar at about this time. A package deal — they snickered in your direction as a nearby shady-looking customer walked out on his tab.

“Hey, isn’t that your cue, tough guy?” The man gave you a patronizing sort of eyebrow raise as he dealt the next round.

Technically, it was. You got hired pretty much on account of your physique — you were 6’3” and a tank, always had been. Broad shoulders, biggest girl on the playground growing up, you gained muscle at the drop of a hat. You didn’t even try. But it was all for show. You were more of a lover than a fighter. Sometime in the first few months of the job the staff discovered you were better equipped to work inside the bar. Customers liked you because you were polite, a breath of fresh air from the culture of animosity that permeated the undercity. Still, it didn’t help your ego in situations like this. ”Hey, you don’t know what she’s got under her sleeve.” The third voice at the table spoke up. The right hand of Zaun. Sevika.

She had been a regular since before you started and probably would be long after. You had heard some pretty nasty stories about her and the things she was capable of. But when she came up to your counter for a drink, she came without malintent, always respectful to the waitstaff. It was disarming. Tonight, especially, your eyes lingered over her toned shoulders and sharp collarbones.You wanted to run your hands over them, to see how her body would react. And maybe it was the house IPA you had been drinking, but probably not.

Sevika gestured toward your dwindling pile of poker chips with her chin as she looked down, analyzing her hand. “Clearly, she must be the type to play the long game.” This earned her another light fit of snickers from bar idiots one and two, but they were easily impressed. You rolled your eyes.

Sevika raised two chips. The table matched. She spoke again.

“So, tough guy, do those arms of yours get you any female attention? Since you’re obviously not using them for any other tactile purpose,” her eyes traveled to the empty seat where the tab-skipper had been sitting.

You shrugged, suddenly warm and very aware of your body and not sure where to rest your gaze. “I get around.”

For some reason, tweedles dum and dee found this hilarious, and howls of laughter followed. You slapped your hand over your heart and feigned a look of deep hurt, to mask the bit of real hurt you were feeling. Yeah, it had been a while, but surely not long enough to warrant that response.

“Is it that implausible?”

Sevika chuckled and shook her head, but her expression was good-natured.

“Just make your move, Casanova.”

You had a full house. Three aces. Two kings. You matched, and didn’t raise.

Sevika raised, the men matched, and you folded.

The table revealed their hands and Sevika won the pile with a straight. Not a bad hand, but the round would’ve been yours if you had taken the risk. Sevika clicked her tongue, scolding you, which made your palms sweat. You averted her gaze and became suddenly interested in wiping down the bar.

Following your pitiful defeat, the two guys payed out, leaving the bar empty save for you, Sevika, and a couple stragglers who always stayed until morning and probably didn’t have anywhere else to spend the night. To your surprise, the woman beckoned you over once more. Something in your heart lifted. Something in your pants dropped.

“Blackjack?” She pushed the cards toward you, and her dominant sort of gaze made you feel, once again, compelled to do what she asked.

You won the first few rounds. Sevika was risky to a fault. If it wasn’t 21 exactly, trust she would draw. And she always made you the dealer, watching your hands intently, hungrily, even, as you shuffled. The third round was a tie, but she didn’t have anything left to raise.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You win this round and I’ll spread it around that I walked out on my tab, and you chased me down and kicked my ass for it. Should prevent other situations like our friend earlier, at least for a while.”

“Are my bouncer abilities really that pathetic?” You picked at the side of your nails. Sevika’s gaze pierced through you and you found it difficult to meet her eyes. But you didn’t necessarily hate the way her eyes took you in. Slowly and deliberately, like you were a battle map and she was trying to parse out her strategy.

“And if you win?” You looked up, all innocent. Maybe you imagined it, but your doe eyes seemed to rile her up a little bit. Something in the way her jaw shifted, the way she rubbed her flesh palm on her pants.

“Already planning for defeat? See, this is exactly your problem. You’re talking through a universe where you lose before we’ve even started.” She shoved her pile towards you again.

“Deal ‘em.” She commanded, you obliged.

“I’m serious! I just wanna know what I’m agreeing to. Fools rush in, and all that.” Your voice made everything sound like a question. With her, it was. Sevika was hard to figure out.

“You’re cute. If I win, I want…” The woman took a hit of the blunt she was holding and used it to gesture, her movements creating little loops of smoke that rose and dissipated. Her eyes followed them, and not you. For once.

“I want an hour. With you. N’ those arms.” You jerked while shuffling, accidentally knocking over your beer in your surprise. You picked it up quickly, hoping she didn’t notice.

“You serious?”

“Deadly. Fuck me up, Casanova.”

She won. Wasn’t even close. Three sevens, if you could believe it. As soon as you slapped the last seven down, you both shot up from the counter at light speed and she followed you to the back.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Her voice was low and husky, but with a little something else.

“Sore winner,” was all you could think to respond. You shoved her lightly. She shoved you harder with her prosthetic arm. The two of you kept at it, pushing and shoving back and forth as you practically raced to The Last Drop’s back office. Play-fighting, like you were “one of the boys,” but it had a bit of a bite to it. Like you wanted to eat each other alive.

The office was hardly used except for the rare moments when staff wanted to crunch numbers. Or, of course, engage in extra-professional affairs like this one. That couch had seen some things. You fiddled with the key for what was apparently a moment too long.

“I’m getting bored out here, Casanova.” You looked into Sevika’s eyes through her thick brows, a couple inches below yours. You slammed your shoulder into the door and it gave way immediately, with a satisfying bang as it swung open. Sevika followed, grabbing you by the shirt as she brought your lips down to hers, hard, and kicked the door shut behind her without looking.

She dragged you toward her, her back pressed against the peeling drywall. Her tongue dragged against your bottom lip and something deep in your pelvis vibrated in anticipation. One of your hands reached up to the wall, to keep you both steady. Sevika grabbed your other hand and guided it under her tank top. You squeezed her breast, tracing over her nipple with your thumb. Your bodies pressed together and you brought your knee in between hers, rolling your hips forward and pressing your leg into her crotch. She moaned into your mouth. Like her voice, it was deep and gravelly.

You set a pace. Her hips seemed to agree with it, bucking upwards to get that friction where she needed it most. Her hands gripped your waist and hips as she started to manhandle you, making you move faster against her. Your kissing was frantic and sloppy, like there was anger behind it. Your lips shined with her spit, and you moved to kiss up and down her neck. She reacted with a throaty panting noise when you got to a sensitive spot — a fleshy and soft area where her jaw met with her neck. You twisted your head to the side and downward to get better access, to fully exploit that weakness. Without fully thinking through your actions, your sucking collapsed into biting. You drove your teeth into her neck and Sevika’s jaw shot upward as her panting became gasping. She grabbed the back of your head and pushed it harder against her neck to say what she couldn’t; more, more, more.

Your hands fumbled with her belt and she noticeably did not help you with it. It was like she got a kick out of watching you struggle. You finally got them unzipped and you reached under to start palming her through her boyshorts. She had already soaked through. Good.

You pulled away to look down at her again while tugging lightly at her waistband. You raised your eyebrows to ask, May I? Chin still tilted upward, she nodded, huffed out a “yuh” sort of noise, and hooked her leg around the back of yours to bring your chests closer, all rough.

You pulled down the panties and your fingers dipped into her folds. Sevika’s eyebrows knitted even closer together, if that was possible. You continued sucking and working that spot on her neck. Her lips were against your ear and you heard her panting grow more desperate, more melodic; whines and vocalizations mixed with the gruff and grainy rhythmic in-and-out of her breaths.

Your middle and ring finger sort of skated all around her entrance, just barely avoiding her swollen clit. You took in the sight — Sevika’s heaving chest, her eyes closed as she chased the pleasure you were giving her. Her moans grew to something not exactly desperate, that wasn’t like her, but deranged and shameless. She panted like she was breathing fire. And like she didn’t care if all of The Last Drop could hear her, even though they probably couldn’t.

The pulse of her hips grew a little more erratic and she shifted her legs like she was ready to switch positions. You gestured subtly with your head toward the couch, and she dragged you toward it.

The woman collapsed on it and rested her arms outward, elbows relaxed on top like it was a throne. She leaned as far back as she could as you helped work her pants and boyshorts all the way down until they dropped to her ankles. She pulled her shirt off with both hands, pulling it up and over from the back of the neckline. She threw the tank top to the side and all of the air left your lungs, as you took in the sight of her upper body. Where you were buff, she was cut. Unlike you, Sevika didn’t have the type of figure that was imposing simply by nature — her physique came from blood, sweat, and tears. She had the body of a bruiser, of someone who spent their life fighting. The Sevika before you made you realize why some of the patrons kept their distance. But it somehow made you want to get closer. It made you want to please her, and to be good at it.

Sevika had a manspread going and you dropped to your knees in front of her. But she wasn’t having that — not yet. With her flesh hand she grabbed you by the throat and dragged you up to her lips for another messy kiss. Your teeth clashed together and when your tongues made contact, you felt those butterflies low in your pelvis. You moaned into her mouth instinctively, and it came out higher and breathier than you expected. You felt her lips form a slight smile against yours and she released her hold on your neck, making you drop down to your knees. You were certain the impact must have shook the entire city block.

Breathing heavy, you went to start kissing and sucking at her inner thigh, but she tilted your chin upward to look at her. Breathless, she commanded,

“Take your shirt off for me, Casanova. I wanna see those arms while you… Yeah.”

You fought the smile forming and stripped for her. You took off your tank top and sports bra the same way she had — in one fluid motion, from the back. You were caught between a sudden wave of self consciousness and the urge to draw it out, to put on a show for her. You settled at maintaining eye contact as you subtly flexed for her, and placed your broad hands on her knees. Sevika smiled, all smug as she reached over to a nearby discarded vest, brought out the rest of her blunt, and lit up as her eyes poured over your exposed upper body. She inhaled deep using her metal arm, and with her flesh hand she traced over your biceps, satisfied.

All confident, you started on her inner thighs, taking your time. When your lips finally connected with her wet cunt, you heard her make a sharp exhale through her teeth. You kept going, first going over it all with a flat tongue, drinking in the moment, then using your tongue to explore her folds. Sevika let out a satisfied hum as you started sucking at her swollen, neglected clit.

That was when you brought your fingers up to her entrance, casually tracing, nothing else. That pissed her off.

Sevika slapped the top of the couch to get your attention. Your eyes snapped up to hers as she leaned forward to get all up in your face, with her signature sneer on.

“Did someone pay you to waste my time?”

You froze.

“That wasn’t rhetorical, I’m seriously asking you if some outside party with an interest in distracting me paid you to bring me here and do absolutely nothing with me.” You raised your eyebrows, eyes all wide and innocent. That made her groan, and she covered her face with one hand, your puppy eyes making her feel horny and desperate and a little guilty about snapping at you.

“Just. Fuck. Me.” She collapsed backward and you didn’t respond, just immediately did what she asked. You pushed your two fingers inside her without warning — hard. Again she exhaled through her teeth.

With your mouth, you continued giving her clit attention, and you pushed in and out of her, fingertips maintaining contact with her front wall, the one closest to you.

The sounds she made were pornographic, and it made you aware of the pool of slick that had established itself in the crotch of your boxers. Listening to her body, you gradually picked up the pace and you found Sevikas hand weave through your hair, grabbing you roughly at the scalp and pressing you closer and closer still.

Her face was angled toward the sky as she whined, her metal hand gripping the cushion tight enough to create what was probably going to be permanent ripples in the fabric. You brought her closer and closer and her grip on your head tightened as she bucked her hips upward, essentially fucking herself on your tongue and fingers. She occasionally let out a depraved vocalization that a trained ear might recognize as “fuck,” “don’t stop,” and “faster-FUCK faster.”

Until the pulse inside her cunt became erratic, and you felt a familiar tremor in her legs. You didn’t let up. You started fucking her deeper, with more pressure, using your tongue to play with her clit faster. Sevika’s thighs involuntarily snapped up to trap your head and you brought your hands up to brace them. Your tongue still moving as she cried out, loud and animalistic as she rode out her orgasm. Her thighs held you so tight against her pussy that you couldn’t escape if you tried, and the strength would probably have suffocated someone more petite.

Eventually, Sevika’s cries retreated back into deep panting and her legs dropped back to the floor, still trembling and spasming. She looked down at you, eyes half lidded, and gave you what could have been interpreted as a smile. She spread her arms back out on the top edge of the couch cushions, somehow still holding the half-smoked blunt. You shook your hair and a bit of ash fell out, which made you giggle. You were so invested in fucking her, you hadn’t noticed the active fire hazard against your skin the whole time.

With her chin, the woman gestured to the spot on the couch next to her. You settled in, your sides touching and your head leaning back against where her bicep was resting. She wrapped that arm around to bring the blunt to your lips.

“You can finish it, I don’t like the roach,��� she said, and you obliged. You took a deep hit from her fingers and the last fiery bits assaulted your lungs, but you liked it. Sevika ashed it out on the couch, as if you hadn’t already desecrated it enough. You settled into a comfortable silence and she allowed you to lean your head on her pec, still uncovered. Until she spoke up.

“Promise me something, Casanova.” Her voice hoarse and gravelly from the earlier activities.

“Mm?” you responded. She wrapped her arm around you to reach up and ruffle your hair.

“Promise me you’ll never get good at cards.” You sucked your teeth and sneered back at her, giving her a hefty shove, which she gladly returned with equal force.

[s3renascorner]

Have you ever tried this one?

MDNI!!

Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

Warnings!: oral (f receiving) p in v (don't be like them and use protection!) Pet names, cursing, mentions of being tipsy. I think that's it.

Not proofread! so sorry for shitty grammar.

You

"Noah are you finally ready!?" You yelled from your room to your roommate and best friend. You heard heavy footsteps approach your room as Noah walked towards your room, he stops right at your front door and says "damn can't you be a little more patient? I was just finishing up" you quickly grab your purse and put on your shoes, you open up the door revealing yourself to Noah. "no Noah I can't be, we have to be there early so we can get merch remember?" Noah's eyes slightly widen as he takes in what you're wearing, a very short light pink sparkly mini skirt with a matching top and platform boots resembling a stage outfit Sabrina carpenter wears. "You look, extremely good ya know?" He says looking at you up and down. "uh huh thanks now lets go" you say rushing.

After the concert had started Noah was definitely sure he was going to tease you at home after the concert especially after hearing you say "come right on me, I mean camaraderie" well, until the song 'juno' started playing and Noah quickly got what the song was about but what he didn't expect was the position part, Sabrina laid on the floor lifting one leg then swiftly going into the splits, you had jokingly told him that you had apparently "never tried that one in your life" obviously this was supposed to be a light hearted joke especially with the amount of teasing this man gave you every day, but he took it another way, those words making him feel warm and weak, in that moment he thought about you laying there for him completely at his disposal, doing everything and anything for him. He wouldn't lie and say that he's never thought about you in another way than more than friends or that he's never thought of you bare before him doing so many sinful things to-and with him but damn, right now he just wanted to take you away and fuck you til your dumb in the back of his car.

After the concert had ended and you guys got back in the car (well, barely since you were tipsy) Noah couldn't stop thinking about what you had said, it was stupid really, but the fact that just thinking about you in that same position, making you cum until you were seeing stars and just have you. "I actually think that this is the best night of my life" you slurred while giggling. "oh really? And why is that miss I love to scream horny lyrics?" You dramatically gasped and put your hand on your heart, "you wound me sir, and also you listen to the weekend, that's wayyyyy worse than just saying I'm so fucking horny"

sir. That word alone made his cock twitch, not because he likes being called that but because he wants to hear you call him that again and again. "I guess your right" he clears his throat "well, we should get going traffics gonna suck either way right?" He tries to change the topic, You hum in response "well I mean yeah but why don't we wait for a while? Everyone's gonna be headed the same direction and we don't have to be up early tomorrow, plus if I get motion sickness while being tipsy, well that's not gonna be pretty so lets just, wait it out." That wouldn't work for Noah, he just needed to take a cold shower and relax cause if not god knows he would be struggling especially with how you act while tipsy. Last time he was alone with you while tipsy it ended up in you talking about how no one was good for you and that you couldn't even have sex because it didn't feel right, and yes you did cry on him that day. Noah wasn't going to push the idea of going back home since he knew you were gonna make him agree with you either way. He just needed to figure out how to distract himself.

"you okay? You seem tense... Like a lot." You said putting a hand on his shoulder, "uh yeah I'm fine just a little tired that's all." "Um..." You said trying to come up with something. "well you can sleep in the backseat with your head in my lap for you to be comfortable" "um, sure" he said, he climbed into the back of the car and sat down waiting for you to come climb in the back, once you did you accidentally fell on his lap, your skirt rose up and you felt his semi hard on. "Shit, sorry noah" your faces had matching flushed cheeks and that nervous look in your eyes, you tried to move away so you could sit down on the seat but his grip was firm holding you in place. You looked at him nervous and slightly excited, he started lightly caressing your exposed thighs not realizing you half exposed ass since he was so focused on your face and on every little expression that changed. The air felt hotter and your senses had heightened feeling every bit of him covered body except for the hand that was on your thigh that's the thing you could feel the most. The moment felt like eternities but was actually mere seconds. "Y/n?" "yes?" You said barely above a whisper.

"hypothetically if I were to kiss you right now, what would you hypothetically do?" His question took you aback, was he actually going to do this? "Hypothetically, I think I would want more than just a kiss." His eyebrows slightly raised and he nodded just a tiny bit, he carefully but quickly lifted you up and positioned you so you were straddling him. "So... About what you said inside, you've never tried that? Ever?" He said a teasing smirk on his lips. You gulped trying to understand what he was trying to do, "no... I haven't like ever." "would you like to?" Your eyes widened, your breath got heavier, jesus this man could make you nervous in a second.

"What?" "Would. You. Like. To. Try. It?" He put punctuation at every word, soaking up the fact that he could get you like this without even doing anything. "y-yes" you said basically breathless, Noah didn't say anything he just slowly lifted your skirt and made sure that you would be prepared.

He leaned in leaving a peak on your neck going all the way up until he reached your lips and asked "may i?" After you nodded just wanting some kind of touch he leaned in, lips touching yours as if he was testing the waters first. you both had a good rhythm it was slow and passionate, god knows how long you've been wanting to do this with him, his hands started to ride up your thighs to grip your ass, once he did you slightly gasped which gave him the freedom to slip his tongue into your mouth tasting you properly. He slowly moved his hips against yours trying to get some friction as he couldn't get enough of you, your hands were tangled in his hair making it disheveled and messy but he didn't give a shit about that with you like this.

"Fuck Noah, I need you" you moan out breathlessly. "need me to what princess?" God that nickname could make you fold any day, "i... I need you inside me" he nodded quickly and laid you down in the backseat slowly stripping you of your clothes, every layer he took off weirdly felt like a layer of the feelings that you two had for each other was being exposed and shown, with no lies nor any doubts, and sure you could've expected this to just be another quick fuck but it wasn't, it was love and passion that you two had been holding on to and keeping a secret for the years and years of your friendship.

Noah gazed and admired your naked body taking everything in as if he were never to see it again, he softly kissed up your thighs and stopped at were your core is to ask "are you sure?" You nodded but responded with a quick yes because you knew he needed a verbal answer "green if you're okay, yellow if you need to slow down and red if you want me to stop. Ok?"

"ok." Noah placed a soft kiss on her core earning him a soft whimper from you a signal that he could keep going, he left kitten licks still just warming you up until you had finally had enough and had asked him for even more which was what he was waiting for. He, to put it bluntly, ate you like it was his last meal making you say his name like a prayer. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach tightening begging to release, "Noah I'm gonn- can i-" you barely muttered out "cum for me baby, let go." euphoria washed over you, making you feel like you weren't real. "you still with me princess?" Noah asked making sure you were ok, his hands rubbed up and down your thighs the feeling making the sense of touch come back. "Yeah, yeah I just I need you inside me noah." Noah smirked and for one last time kissed your thighs each two times, "your wish is my command doll."

He sat up and stripped himself of his clothes, you couldn't help but stare at his bare self, you'd imagined him before but god it was better than you'd expected. "take a picture it'll last longer" he teased "oh shut it" you said, he grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to him hooking a leg on his shoulder the other resting on the seat as you laid on your elbows, this was a surprise because you didn't think he would actually do the position you just thought he was joking or teasing you like always. "what are you doing?" He raised an eyebrow "I told you we would do it." You just shut up and bit your lip as he positioned himself to your entrance. He slowly slid in making sure you adjusted to his size before starting to thrust, when you gave him the signal he started moving at a slower pace but quickly picked it up when he heard the first whiny moan you let out, it felt fucking magical for a lack of words, every thrust and moan that you both let out was so intimate and special because you both knew that it was just for you two, not for anyone others ears to hear, not for anyone other to feel how deep he went and how fucking wet you were for him it was just, the two of you.

You could tell he was about to cum when his thrust got sloppy and fast, you weren't to far behind either the second knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter waiting for you to cum, you walls tightened against him and you started basically chanting his name, your hands intertwined as your head fell back as your breath got unsteady. "Fuck doll, I'm gonna come." You squeezed his hand "come for me noah" you both let out groans as you came at the same time, his hot seed filling you up until you were leaking cum. He collapsed on top of you breathless but so fucking satisfied and so were you. "We- we should probably get home shouldn't we?" He held onto you tighter "in a bit"

The next day...

You were scrolling on your phone through tiktok while laying on Noah's chest when a video of the concert from yesterday popped up, specifically the juno position part, you watched as Sabrina raised her leg while asking the question "have you ever tried this one?" remembering last night. Noah spoke up as he heard and just said-

Yes we did.

[sleepyanya]

□—┆SOMETHIN’ STUPID , frank sinatra

— prompt… he really couldn’t help but admire your raw beauty as you spoke so gracefully. you always seemed to maintain a captivating smile throughout conversation, no matter the topic. and for a split second, a moment of peace bristled by… the unanticipated words of “i love you” fall from his lips. wait… what?

— gn.reader x (pre-crash) curly , small fic i cooked up >_<

— cw; perchance some angst

captain curly, the type of man who you’d dream about in your deepest slumber. someone who exudes such charisma and brilliance was hard to come by—an attitude so confident you’d think he was faking it. but he wasn’t, he was true. he was real. so when you’d first met the captain, you were slightly taken back. smile so charming it made you fuel with slight jealously. then, you’d remember how hard you had taken your first month on the tulpar. heart aching and mind reaching out for the safety back on earth. it was non other than the captain who’d console you, warm hand rubbing circles on your back. his voice was, oh so, deep and sweet as he spoke positive affirmations into the stuffy spacecraft air. it sure was hard to be jealous of a man with such greatness. from then on, you never doubted curly as captain.

he had your trust. truly the only member amongst the crew you found yourself coming to when free from your daily duties. even though it was unlikely the both of you would be on break together, the moments you did were filled with flashed smiles and shy laughter. you recalled a particular night where oatmeal was served for dinner. you sat across curly who made easy conversation with you. well, that’s what it seemed like to you. the man beside you who should’ve been long retired, grumbled out “quit flirting and eat your damn food.” before abruptly standing up and leaving the dinner table. it was safe to say curly avoided you a few days out of sheer embarrassment. not very leader like of the captain, you thought that night with a small smile.

“—no meteor’s in sight. 312 days left in counting.” you can hear curly’s voice from the other side of the cockpit door. judging by his words, he most likely was journaling the day’s activities. you hear curly huff, the quiet sound of his chair squeaking under his weight. you raise your knuckles and knock against the metal door. immediately, the doors open automatically.

“am i interrupting?” a small smile plays at your lips. curly turns in his seat, his face softening at the sight of you. his head shakes, the curls framing his face bouncing as he did so. “of course not. come on in.” he gestures with a smile of his own. you walk in and take a seat at the open spot next to curly, the doors closing themselves behind you. if you were anyone else besides jimmy, he wouldn’t allow you to sit close at the cockpit for safety reasons.

“what brings you in?” it was only then you realize how tiresome curly’s voice sounded. a part of you wishes he got more rest, but you suppose thats one of the many sacrifices he makes as captain. you shrug. “what? can’t come say hi to my favorite captain?” your smile was big and wide, akin to a child successfully stealing candy from the convenience store. curly laughs. “im the only captain here, though? unless… you count jimmy as captain too.”

your face converts at curly’s insinuation. he takes notice of your face scrunch and laughs once more. “why that face?” he says in between chuckles. and for a moment, you found yourself a lost for words. not because of his question but rather because curly was undeniably perfect. his laugh was perfect, his personality was perfect, his face was especially perfect. you quickly shrug that honey of a feeling away, attempting to ignore the heat spreading across your face.

“nothing.” you simply excuse. before you could allow curly’s curiosity to grow, you continue. “a-anyway! earlier today i was talking to daisuke, right?” it didn’t take a genius for curly to know a ramble was brewing. he didn’t mind, rather, he preferred it. curly whole heartedly believed he could hear you talk for hours on end—and that wasn’t an overstatement. the speed in which you talked, showcasing the excitement in which what you had to say along side your frantic hand gestures… it was enduring. he sits quietly, listening to every thing you spoke of with such intensity it almost felt like he was tucking the information into the safest parts of his mind. which he was.

“and did you know he has a gameboy!? you know what that is, right?” you continue with such fever that curly didn’t have enough time to answer your question. his lips were left parted but slowly curled upwards once more into a soft smile. his skin tints a red hue at the apple of his cheeks, his gaze focus on nothing only but you—arms crossed, planted into his seat until you grew tired from bubbling away. and suddenly, you pause with your lips sealed in silence. curly doesn’t realize the fact he grows uncomfortable. without your voice, the quiet begins to irritate him. perhaps you finally realized how curly eyed you with such raw want and endearment?

and before curly could allow you to get another word out, he murmurs—“I love you.” so earnest and faint you could’ve nearly missed it. you blink, your mind slowly taking the weight of his words into comprehension. and then, your eyes widen with realization and so does his.

“please, step out.” curly breathes out. it was so fast you swear you could’ve gotten whiplash from it. at first, you thought he was just embarrassed, but the look on his face loudly states otherwise.

your expression was fast to morph into one of confusion. “w-wait, hold on, curly—” his name passes your lips so smoothly, so used too addressing him by his actual name instead of his title. that mere fact always enlighten a fire in curly’s chest so bright and big— but he knew he had to extinguish it.

he then stands up from the cockpit chair, his tall figure looming over you. “it’s captain to you.” he states, voice plain and bland. he was the captain for crying out loud. relationships were strictly prohibited on the tulpar for multitude of reasons—this being one. he had a job to get done yet he was wasting his time on… you.

you examine his fallen expression, noting the furrow of his thick eyebrows and frown displaying on his lips. your heart clenches to the point it nearly hurts. how could a few simple words break you so fast? you found yourself swallowing down the urge to cry.

“where is this coming from? y-you’re the one who said it.” tone full of hurt was the first thing curly picked up on. you didn’t mean to protest—but something within you wanted to resolve this as quickly as possible because a part of you knew your relationship wouldn’t go back to what it was.

curly lets out a heavy sigh, his hand running through his messy, blonde hair you grew to love. “look, it just came out. it was an accident. i-…” he stops mid sentence, his eyes finding yours. curly sees the heartbreak in your eye and doesn’t miss the glossy build up ready to spill.

“—i didn’t mean it…” he finishes but it comes out unsure—nearly seeming like a question directed towards himself. the silence after is defining, alike a thick blanket being placed over the both of you. tension so tight, it might as well suffocate the both of you. it was only then he realizes he won’t ever have the pleasure of hearing your joyful rambles after this. not after saying what he said. then, he feels regret, incredibly so and his mind flashes to him wrapping his arms around you—hand finding purchase on the back of your head and muttering out countless apologies before pulling you into a soft kiss that may speak more than his pitiful sorry’s.

but he only imagines. instead, he watches you finally blink away the tear that once threaten to spill. it glides down the soft of your cheek then falls once dipping past the edge of your jaw. you quickly wipe the wet off your face and stand up. curly’s hands twitch, full on ready to grab you by your uniform and bring you into his chest.

“have a good rest of your evening, captain.” it stings. it shouldn’t have but it does. the door slides open to allow you through and the only thing accompanying curly’s ears is the sound of your fading footsteps.

as you round the corner, you spot jimmy who stands crossed arm near the cockpit door. you pause for a moment before scoffing. a smirk lengthens across his wrinkled face when you walk past him.

“a captain’s gunna do what his gotta do.” jimmy mumbles under his breath.

POSTED- 11/29/24. do not translate/steal my work |

[thebiggerbear]

Oh my God, this was AMAZING!!!

On the nights he struggles to calm down, he calls you. You always pick up no matter what time it is. You stay on the phone with him until you arrive, soothing him, calming him.

This made my heart warm. This is definitely someone Eddie could absolutely use in his life.

You climb onto the bed alongside him, your palm coming to rest on his chest. You can feel the thunder of his heart underneath your fingertips as he looks at you with such darkness in his eyes it pains you. “Inhale for five,” You murmur and Eddie obeys, sucking in a breath. “Hold for five, release for five.” It’s box breathing, the standard for dealing with panic attacks. It takes a few minutes for him to fall back into a natural rhythm, he focuses on you the entire time.

Oh, I've been there and I swear by box breathing. I love how she doesn't even hesitate to crawl into the mess with him and knows exactly what he needs.

“How are we doing?” You ask him, your hand slipping up from his bare chest and instead cupping his cheek. “Better.” He says, his voice little more than a rasp. His palm covers yours, keeping it clasped to his face.

Oh my God, such a sweet moment.

“You need to see someone.” You murmur as your thumb traces lightly over his cheek. “We can’t keep going on like this…” You mean coming over, spending the night. The two of you are nothing more than friends at this point but it’s going somewhere, you both know it. Eddie’s self-aware enough to understand that he’s not a safe bet for you right now, he’s exhausted, messy. Anything that comes from this is bound to fail. He needs to get himself right, get healthy again before even he entertains the possibility of a relationship with you because you deserve the world, the very best version of him, not this broken man that you have to prop up once the clock strikes midnight. “Tomorrow.” He promises you, his lips brushing over your pulse point. “I’ll make an appointment tomorrow.”

I love that Eddie is self-aware to know that she's right and that he also knows he needs to work on himself first before trying for anything more with her. "The two of you are nothing more than friends at this point but it's going somewhere, you both know it." Oooo, LOVE that line!!! My favorite dynamic: friends to lovers. 😍 Do you plan to write more for them? I hope so but of course, no pressure!!!

I probably sound like a broken record by now but you write so beautifully!!! No matter the character/fandom, you master it in such a way that it truly does feel as part of canon for every single universe you dip into. You have a wonderful talent, my friend!!!

52. Baby, please come around, help me settle down

For Eddie Diaz from 911 - if it sparks something 😉

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty

Eddie has nightmares, horrible vivid dreams about his time in the military, about the people he couldn’t save out in the field. When he wakes up he’s always disoriented, in a state of fight or flight. Heart pounding in his chest, breath stuttered.

It’s been happening a lot since Christopher left for Texas, the house is too quiet, too vacant and Eddie’s not sure how to cope with that, the guilt of what led to the eventual cataclysm. He think it must manifest in his sleep, tap into something he refuses to deal with in the day time.

On the nights he struggles to calm down, he calls you. You always pick up no matter what time it is. You stay on the phone with him until you arrive, soothing him, calming him. Just your presence, even over the speaker starts to vent some of the pressure he feels in his chest.

You always find him in the bedroom, back against the headboard, sheets tangled round his hips. His eyes are always a little wild, the expression on his face helpless. You climb onto the bed alongside him, your palm coming to rest on his chest. You can feel the thunder of his heart underneath your fingertips as he looks at you with such darkness in his eyes it pains you.

“Inhale for five,” You murmur and Eddie obeys, sucking in a breath. “Hold for five, release for five.”

It’s box breathing, the standard for dealing with panic attacks. It takes a few minutes for him to fall back into a natural rhythm, he focuses on you the entire time. The messy bun, the white tank top thrown over the sports bra and leggings, the scent of orchids from the expensive shower oil you use to douse the scent of smoke from your skin.

“How are we doing?” You ask him, your hand slipping up from his bare chest and instead cupping his cheek.

“Better.” He says, his voice little more than a rasp. His palm covers yours, keeping it clasped to his face. The sensation of you, it helps him stay grounded, quietens his mind. He can already feel the tension in his body starting to evaporate the longer you have your hands on him.

“You need to see someone.” You murmur as your thumb traces lightly over his cheek. “We can’t keep going on like this…”

You mean coming over, spending the night. The two of you are nothing more than friends at this point but it’s going somewhere, you both know it. Eddie’s self-aware enough to understand that he’s not a safe bet for you right now, he’s exhausted, messy. Anything that comes from this is bound to fail. He needs to get himself right, get healthy again before even he entertains the possibility of a relationship with you because you deserve the world, the very best version of him, not this broken man that you have to prop up once the clock strikes midnight.

“Tomorrow.” He promises you, his lips brushing over your pulse point. “I’ll make an appointment tomorrow.”

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[the-fiction-witch]

Comfort

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Nadyana / Nadi (Betrothal) Rating - 18 + kissing/ nudity/ handjobs/ orgasms Word Count - 2985

Jacaerys groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, feeling groggy and sick to his stomach. The pounding in his head made it hard to focus, and he could still taste the saltwater from the battle. He remembered the chaos of the fight, the clash of swords, and the screams of the injured. After the battle was won, he almost fell head-first into the sea with a bleeding head and various other injuries. He could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he fought to stay afloat.

But now, he found himself in his chambers, the soft glow of the fire casting flickering shadows on the walls. His wounds were bandaged, and the pain had dulled to a persistent ache. As he struggled to sit up, he noticed a maiden sitting by his side, her eyes filled with concern.

"Shh don't sit up my Prince." Nadyana cooed stopping him from sitting up in the bed "You need to rest Prince Jacaerys"

Jacaerys blinked a few times to get the blur out of his vision. His mouth was dry and sore. He swallowed and his head pounded. But as he looked at the face of the maiden, he saw his betrothed “... Nadi?” He croaked out, his voice coming out weak, and raspy

"you need to rest Jacaerys." She cooed,

He tried to get up once more but his body was heavy and weak from his wounds. He relented grumbling as he sunk back into the pillows. He gave her a weak scowl. “How long have I been out?” he asked, trying to wet his dry mouth

"a couple of days, no more." She cooed fetching some water and bringing the goblet to his lips

he took a slow, and large gulp from the water. He relished the feel of the cool water going down his dry throat, and let out a satisfied sigh at the end of it, “... I feel like dragon shite.” He said,

"I can imagine so," she chuckled, "You had a very nasty cut on your head, a few bruises fingers, cuts and bruises all over your ribs, and an almost broken nose." She explained

he groaned at the thought of such a list. Though it made sense given how his body felt. He was glad to be alive, and glad it wasn't worse “Fuck… it'll take a fortnight to recover fully” he mumbled, shifting in the bed

"Indeed it will. You're going to be on bed rest for two weeks at minimum."

he groaned in frustration. The idea of being stuck on bed rest for two weeks, or even more was not a pleasant thought.

Nadi rolled her eyes "I know, I know. But you need to rest."

he grumbled under his breath. Knowing she was right. But that didn't make him any happier

I'm stuck here, with nothing to entertain me for two weeks. I'll go mad

"you'll have books, letters, and all sorts to do" she cooed checking on his bandages "Please Jacaerys, for me?"

he could feel his resolve crack as she used those puppy eyes on him, knowing he couldn't refuse a look like that. He was a weak man at times like these “.. fine. I will. But only for you.” he said begrudgingly

she smiled and kissed his tender temple "Thank you."

he smiled and closed his eyes. The brief gesture was a soothing comfort in his discomfort. His eyes flicked back open, and he gave her a cheeky look “Will you be my nurse for those two weeks?”

"of course, I will. I'll be here by your side until you’re better,"

his heart fluttered in his chest, and a warm feeling entered his body. To know the woman he loved would be by his side for two weeks, tending to him, and taking care of him, filled him with both happiness and something... else “You will stay by my side the entire time?” he asked again to be sure. He wanted her close, not leaving if not necessary

"of course." She nodded "I'll be here as long as you want. And for whatever my sweet Prince requires. So? What would you like?"

he thought about it for a moment. And a small sly grin appeared on his face. A light blush crept on his cheeks as an idea came to mind. One that was perhaps scandalous and taboo “Well… there is something” he said slowly.

"oh?" She raised an eyebrow

he looked into her eyes, feeling his cheek heat up in embarrassment. He shifted in the bed, and gave her a smirk “... I won't ask this of you. But.. if you're willing…” he trailed of again. Aching for her to say yes. The idea of her saying no also made him feel a bit giddy he swallowed thickly before continuing “I was hoping... That you would share the bed with me…” his heart was racing, and he felt both anxious, and excited. He saw her raise her eyebrow, and he quickly tried to explain himself “It's not some.. perverted reason. I'm feeling weak and sore. And having you next to me.. would help me heal quicker. It would comfort me..”

she scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes "We are not yet married my Prince. If someone found us in bed together it would be quite the scandal" she teased, and he sighed "But... As you're so weak. I suppose I could let you lay beside me. Perhaps even lay your wounded little head in my lap?"

He chuckled and leaned back against the pillows. He tried a dramatic, wounded puppy look “Ah but I'm so frail, and weak my love. I desperately need a lap to rest my head on. And what better lap than my beautiful betrothed?”

"aww my poor little Jacaerys." She cooed hitching her dress and crawling into the bed settling herself with the pillow, and tapping her thigh "Come on then you want to lay on my dress or just my stocking?"

he felt his heart race at her words and the sight of her lifting her dress to get in the bed. He swallowed, trying not to drool at the sight of her stockings, or the idea of laying his head on that soft, bare skin “.. stockings please.” he mumbled as he scooted himself closer to her. And lowered his aching head to her thigh

she nodded and hitched her dress enough that her woollen stockings were visible. She smiled and guided his head down into her lap laying his head against the wool stockings. She gently tucked the covers around him and tucked him in. Before running her fingers through his curls,

he couldn't help but moan deeply at the feeling of the softness of her legs, and the touch of her fingers running through his hair. He snuggled himself up, making himself nice and warm, and comfortable as he laid his head on her lap. He closed his eyes, enjoying the soothing feeling of her “I knew this was a good idea... I'm already feeling better..”

"I'm glad" she cooed

he smiled, enjoying the feeling of having his head in her lap. Though his mind began to wander, as thoughts of something different came to mind. Something that could be even more relaxing, for the both of them. He looked up into her eyes, and smiled once again “... Do you think you are willing to do slightly more? Something that may help heal me even quicker?”

"oh? And what is that my Prince?" She cooed

he chuckled, a devious look spreading over his face. He gave her a cheeky look, and placed a hand on her thigh, squeezing it slightly, as he spoke “I have an.. aching, in my lower half. And I was wondering... If you could. relieve, the pain?”

"oh? My poor little Jacaerys. We don't want you to be in pain now do we?" She teased him leaning down to kiss his bruised nose. Before her hand stroked his stomach "How’s that?"

he shivered as her hand trailed over his bare torso, sending sparks of tingles over his body. He tried to maintain his composure, but a faint gasp escaped his lips “.. closer to where it aches.” he said, the hand on her thigh gripping the soft skin tighter

"and where does it ache my darling?'

he looked up at her, a growing need in his eyes. He took a breath before he spoke “.. Right here” he said as he took her free hand, and slowly guided it lower, down to his hard bulge. It was only a light brush, but the small feeling was enough to make him gasp,

she chuckled and smiled down at him "humm... Alright as you’re so weak and sick and injured I suppose we can relax a little tension." She cooed starting her slow work palming him though his britches,

he groaned, the light touch already bringing relief and pleasure to him. The need he had been feeling grew even more. He placed his hand over hers, and gently pressed it against his cock “That.. that's perfect... “ he whispered, eyes closing as he gently moaned but was cut off as a shiver of pleasure shot through his body. He opened his eyes again, needing to look at the beautiful sight of her above him, and he smiled “.. Keep going, please”

"of course Jacaerys." She cooed making sure to play with his hair and keep him as relaxed as possible as she worked

he groaned, arching his back a little as her touch continued to work and pleasure him. He let his eyes close again, and his breathing got a little heavier as she worked. One of his hands gripped her hand a bit tighter, squeezing it. he needed her closer. He couldn't bear being apart from her any longer. The desire and need, for her grew. He started gripping at her thighs, trying to pull her onto him “.. please.. get closer.. I want to feel you..”

she smiled and guided his bruised body so his head rested on her chest, his nose squarely in her cleavage, his arms free to wrap around her waist, his body fully pressed against her, she moved her hand under his britches and began to stroke his cock more firmly as she kissed his forehead "This close enough my Prince?"

It sent a new wave of tingles through his body as he snuggled up to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tighter to him. His bare skin pressed against her soft and smooth skin. He nestled his face closer to her chest, and spoke, his voice slightly muffled “Not close enough..” he lifted his head and looked her in the eyes. He took in her beauty and the feel of her body against his. His hand slowly traced up her side, to her face, before his fingers delicately toyed with the straps of her dress “Take this off... Please... I need to feel you against me, without any barriers..”

she softly Giggled "Jacaerys we can't. We aren't married yet, a fact you seem to regularly forget”

he groaned like a wounded puppy, as he had just been denied his sweet. He looked up at her with a pout, and a pleading expression “Please.. I need it. I need to feel your body against mine. I don't care that we aren't married yet... Just a few minutes.. I'll be gentle I swear…” he said in a needy tone, as his hand continued to toy and pull at her straps

"Jacaerys!" She laughed stilling his hands "We can't, I know you're wounded, I know you’re in the mood and I'm happy to help you feel better but we can't. At least not until we're married."

he knew she was right. But his mind was so clouded by lust and want, and the feel of her body against his wasn't helping. His heart ached at having to deny himself. He relented though, though the disappointment was clear on his face. He sighed “.... I know... I know... Your right..” he mumbled before resting his head back on her chest. Though he nuzzled his face closer to her chest

she softly smiled stroking his hair "I know it's hard my darling, I can imagine it's a terrible feeling. And I promise you I feel such frustrations as well. Of course, I want to strip down and climb into bed cuddled in your arms all day and night. But we must wait, save such things for our honeymoon." She cooed

he closed his eyes as she stroked his hair, and he listened to her soothing voice. The need and want were still there, but her soft words and touch were helping to soothe his burning lusts. At her mention of their future honeymoon though, his desire flared up once again. He let out a deep sigh at the thought of what fun that would be “... I can't wait for our honeymoon…”

"I can't either." She smiled kissing his forehead "Now, do you still want my help?"

he smiled at the tender kiss, before nodding. Despite having to hold back his own lust for her, he still wanted to finish what she started. It was the least he could get in his current state “.. I do... please…”

"of course Jacaerys." Nadi smiled as she continued moving her hand. The other soothing his hair and pressing kisses to his head "Just relax and enjoy it my darling"

he leaned against her, resting his head against her chest. He closed his eyes as her touches sent small sparks of pleasure through his body. Her other hand soothing through his hair, was also doing wonders to make him feel relaxed and satisfied. He nuzzled his face against her bare skin, inhaling her sweet scent “Mmmm... I could get used to the feeling of your hands on me...”

"I'm sure you will, once we're wed."

he hummed in agreement, and was about to speak again, but a soft gasp escaped his lips as her hand worked particularly well. He gripped her thigh a bit tighter, pulling her closer to him. He was losing his will power, and it was difficult to hold himself back from just ripping that dress off of her “.. you... are making it hard... To hold back..”

"shh shh shh just relax" she cooed

he closed his eyes and tried to relax, though it was difficult with the pleasure she was bringing him. He groaned, nuzzling his head against her chest. The desire for her was making his mind race, and his need to see her naked body was growing

Nadyana smiled feeling his tension and how soon this would be over. She giggled and bought her time making sure to work as well as possible and just as she knew he came she pressed her lips to his kissing him on the lips for the first time in their engagement

he moaned into the kiss as a wave of pleasure shot through him. He groaned as the kiss continued, enjoying the feel of her soft lips against his. The peak was a very intense experience, and one he wished he could make last longer, but his body felt drained and his mind was foggy. The kiss continued for a few minutes, before he pulled away, looking at her with a blissful expression, and a smile across his face “That... was... incredible…”

"You’re welcome my prince" she cooed guiding his wounded body back down on the bed tucking him in and licking her fingers

he watched her as she laid him down, and pulled the covers over him. The sight of her licking her fingers made him blush. He gave her a cheeky smile, and chuckled “.. You can bet I'll need your help again very soon..”

"I have no doubts you will" she chuckled giving his lips a tender kiss

he chuckled along with her, and closed his eyes as her soft lips, touched his own once again. He savoured the feeling of her lips, before he spoke “One day... I’ll be well again, and I'll be able to return the favour..”

"Not until we're wed."

he frowned. “.. fine.. not until we're wed Nadi…”

"It's not that long," Nadyana laughed, "as soon as you're well again and your strength is better we'll get married,"

he sighed as she mentioned the wedding and how it was only a little while until the day finally arrived. “.. I hope I'm well enough by then.. to.. uh... perform when we're wed..”

"well, that's why you need to rest, so you can get well again." She smiled "Can't have you too sick to ride to our wedding. But if you are a little tired still by our wedding night I suppose I'll have to do the riding" She softly kissed his cheek, "Now I'll be back with some soup," she smiled jumping off the bed and fixing her dress

he had to hold back a groan as she mentioned having to ride on their wedding night, which made his mind race to imagine her and her thighs. He chuckled a bit to himself, and watched as she got off the bed “.. please hurry back... I'm feeling a little weak and in need of some more.. Comfort” he mumbled, though he was just being clingy and didn't want her leaving

"I'm sure you'll be fine for a few minutes Jacaerys" she laughed "Just to tide you over" she teased secretly unlacing her gown, turning to face him and taking a few backwards steps as she pulled open the top of her gown flashing him her breasts before she fixed it and bolted off to the kitchens

he was about to protest and ask her to stay. That he needed her. That he was weak. However the sight of her unbuttoning the top of her gown, and flashing him her bare breasts, silenced him, and he was left shocked and speechless as she bolted off, leaving the room. His mouth had fallen open, and a large grin was plastered across his face “..... oh you're a cruel tease…” he growled, “I love you nadi!”

“Love you too Jace!” she called back, 

[ssentimentals]

Awh man I was excited for it 😔😔

BUT it is alright!!

Hmm maybe soft prompt #31 with Minghao or DK. Idk they both are suitable with it 😭😭 So u choose

THANK U <33

-😼

hello-hello my 😼anon! gladly will write for you. let's go with seokmin for this one, yeah? thank you for requesting 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'dance with me.'

cuddling with seokmin is your favorite way to pass time. his solid weight underneath you, his strong arms around you, his comforting presence next to you - all of it is everything you need after a particularly long day at work. seokmin has this uncanny ability to guess what kind of support you need before you can even ask it from him; he's too attuned to you and your feelings. that's why when he saw you coming back hom with a frown on your face and pouty lips, he knew that cuddling session was in for tonight.

'feeling better, angel?' he asks, kissing your forehead. 'you've been very silent.'

'mhm.' you hide your face deeper in his chest, sighing. 'sorry. i'm good now.'

'what can i do for you, hm? tell me.' seokmin gently rubs your back, knowing how soothing you find this gesture. 'should i cook something? sing something? i can start my stand-up comedy show right now if you wanna laugh.'

you smile at this. your heart warms up at how focused on you and you wellbeing seokmin is - his kind soul is ready to go far and beyond for your happiness. you look up, bumping at his chin with your nose: 'i don't need a thing, seokkie. thank you though.'

seokmin goes through things that make you happy in his mind, which one is the most attainable right now? lightbulb lights up in his mind at the brilliant idea. 'angel, get up. dance with me.' at your confused expression, he gently untangles your limbs and stands up with a wide smile on his face. 'c'mon, you'll love it. dance with me.'

you're not sure, but it's seokmin and it's hard to say no when he stares at you like that. instantly taking you into his arms once you stand up, seokmin first starts humming and then proceeds to sing your favorite song in a low tone. 'seokkie, baby,' you let out in disbelief as he slowly urges you to move. he only smiles at you, not faltering once in his moves or his singing. his voice is magical and your heart swells with emotion as you watch him go out of his way to make you feel better. seeing how your eyes shine with unshed tears, seokmin softens and leans in, resting his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper now. cuddling with seokmin might be your favorite way to pass time, but slowly swaying him in your room, while he sings you your favorite song, looking at you like this right here is where he'd like to stay forever... well, it might just be your second favorite.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[coffeekittycatt]

Birthday Wish ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Notes: Rafayel x Reader fanfic. Fluff but suggestive ending. 1,169 word count.

Premise: You wish Rafayel was real.. now someone is suddenly knocking at your door.

- I am very new to writing fanfic so be patient with me 🙂‍↕️

—————————————————————————————

I peek outside my window. The sky, a soft mix of cotton candy colors. Today was my 23rd birthday, and I spent it how I usually do, alone. Sounds sad, but I don’t mind. I’ve learned to be independent since my father passed.

Happy birthday Sugar, I got us your favorite takeout. Let’s watch Mean Girls tonight!

The memory passes. Today makes a third birthday without you. I close my window blind and make my way to my recliner. It’s soft and cushioned. The house is quiet, a peaceful place even though it does gets lonely not having my dad around. He left his small cottage to me and it’s become my safe haven. Mostly everything is still in place from before he left. Except things that are entirely mine, like my room. I take a seat and sit back. My phone vibrates and lights up. “Hey (Y/N), hope you had a great birthday!! Looking forward to seeing you when I get back 🩷” Ana. My close friend. Her message is sweet, reminding me I am not totally alone on this day. We planned to hang out after she gets back from her New York trip. I smile and unlock my phone.

All I want to do now is my dailies in Love and Deepspace. I open the app and wait for it to load. I press enter and am surprised to see Rafayel on my sceen. I totally forgot that this game does something special for players’ birthdays! A cutscene starts and eventually Rafayel gives me a cute gift. “Happy birthday my dear girl..” he sings to me. Wow, he has an angelic voice. My eyes slightly water and my cheeks are warmed. Why am I getting emotional? I wipe my eye with my sweatshirt sleeve and continue tapping. “Don’t worry, if you’ve got my blessing, then the Guardian of the Sea is also aware,” He adds. I pause for a moment and decide to playfully say out loud, “I wish you were real, Rafayel.” I cringe at myself and laugh. Here I am crying over how sweet a character is. I need to get a grip! I finish out the cutscene and eventually I collect some rewards from completing my dailies. I don’t know when or how, but I somehow doze off and am fast asleep.

Knock Knock. I hear my back door. My eyes flick open. What the hell? Immediately I am panicked. My house is not very close to any neighbors. They would have to walk quite a bit to get to me. Even if it was a neighbor, why would they knock at the back door? Could it be a burglar? Someone in need? An axe murderer? I take a deep breath and hurry to grab my pepper spray. My dad always taught me to have something as self defense. I peek out the small window near the door. Dammit. It’s too dark to see anything. My back porch light isn’t working at the moment. I need to replace it soon for times like this. I am too afraid now. I stay silent and wait for the mystery visitor to take their leave. A moment passes and I hear it. Knock Knock. Oh man. I decide to get close to the door. “Who is it?” I call out. “It’s Rafayel, let me in!”, the intruder exclaims. Excuse me? What did I just hear? I don’t know anyone named Rafayel.

Me: “I don’t know you or recognize your name. How can I help you sir?”

R: “Ouch, you don’t know me? We’ve spent almost everyday together! Cmon, (Y/N). Did you forget your birthday wish already?”

My heart drops to my stomach. Rafayel? Birthday wish? My mind circles back to before my impromptu nap. The fucking mobile game?! I am screaming internally. Okay, this must be a dream..or a sick prank. Maybe I am going mentally insane. I need to shut this down. I ready my pepper spray and crack the door open. I peek out and immediately, in the dim light, I see purple. Purple, fluffy hair layered across. My body freezes up. My sight trails downward to a face. Beautiful, bluish-pink eyes look at me. A small pointed nose and soft pink lips are painted on this man’s face. Rafayel. It’s actually him. I am mesmerized at his beauty, and how the real life version of him can even exist. It’s otherworldly, incapable of being real. But it is. Taking in more of the view, he is wearing something I wouldn’t expect. A faded, cherry colored hoodie with pair of light black cargo pants. He raises a hand to his head to swipe a bang out his face. Silver rings are worn on his delicate, long fingers. Still in shock, I try to speak.

Me: “R-Rafayel?”

R: “Took you long enough. It’s freezing. Soon enough I’ll be frozen like the trees out here. Can you let me in?”

I scratch my head. Guess we are doing this. Hey, maybe I will wake up again in a mental hospital and this will all make sense. I open the door all the way to let him inside. He makes his way and immediately I feel arms wrapped around me. “What th-“ I squeeze out as he takes me in for a tight embrace. A hug? My face is now on fire. I inhale and smell an enticing mix of cologne that can only be described as an ocean-breeze. It is exactly how I imagined he would smell. “My love, my dearest girl,” he says with his chin laid on my head. “I have been waiting for the day we could touch.” I smile at his comment as my face is buried in his chest. I can’t believe this is happening. My heart is racing.

Me: “How were you able to come here? How is this possible?” I look up at him, searching for answers.

R: “I told you love, any wishes you had today would come true. You have my blessing, after all.” He smiles and moves a piece of hair out my face. “You’re so much more beautiful in real life.”

I look away out of shyness. I had never been around someone so gorgeous before, let alone a guy who was so into me.

R: “You don’t have to be afraid,” he gently cuffs my cheek and pulls my gaze back towards him.

He leans down and sets my heart ablaze. Soft lips caress mine and gentle pecks are placed onto me. The bashful kisses turn into a tongue asking for an invitation to dance with mine. His sturdy hands hold my face and support me. I am lost in his kisses, savoring every moment. Each one now slightly sloppy, his tongue exploring my mouth, tender, but eager to taste more. He bites my lower lip, not aggressively, but a gentle tug that leaves me a mess. The heat from my cheeks had made its way down to my core and suddenly I am completely aroused by this man. My body has decided it needs all of him. Anticipating his next move, I watch as he pulls away from me. He stays close to my lips and I feel his warm breath against my face. “Show me your bedroom, my love.” He whispers to me.

[krirebr]

Ooooookay. Let me talk about the rest of it before I start shrieking and flailing.

I really loved her whole conversation with Bucky. I'll always love how much he loves Steve. That deep care of knowing someone since they were a kid. The concern and pride. It's my favorite. And his growing admiration for Reader too! I love all of it.

Your heart races as Steve leans in, his breath warm against your lips. For a moment, you forget about the cameras, the campaign, everything except the man in front of you.

They love each other.

Bucky gives you a long look, then nods slowly. "Right. The job."

Bucky agrees with me.

Ok, I'm sure lots of people are mad at Amy, but I honestly think he needed that push. And his angry rant is exactly what people need to hear!

He nods. “Wife privileges. You can ask whatever you want. Wife duties, probably, to ask me questions I don’t want to hear.”

They love each other.

That conversation was exactly what I've been craving since the beginning. He's finally confiding! Yay!

I'll have more to say on who is and isn't confiding in just a moment. 😡

He pauses, his eyes scanning the cabin before continuing. "What I will say is that she has been an incredible partner, both personally and for this campaign. Her intelligence, compassion, and dedication inspire me every day to be a better person and a better leader."

They love each other.

Steve's gaze softens a fraction as he glances in your direction. "I'm grateful she agreed to take this journey with me."

Loooooove each other.

Siiiiiiiiiigh. OK. Let's get into it.

I understand that reader is incredibly guarded about this part of her past. I get that. And if this were a normal dating situation, she could take all the time she needs to get comfortable enough to reveal this.

But it isn't. It's an arrangement. And a high stakes political campaign. This obviously came out during opposition research, if not before. So everyone being aware of this man except for Steve is catastrophic for not drawing attention to the nature of their relationship. This was important information for him to have for the campaign. They are both incredibly lucky that he's so good at this and gave that answer. Because that very easily could have been a disaster and derailed everything. And I don't know how they're going to spin this for their staff.

Very frustrated with her!!!

Red, White & True: DC, Tampa, Athens [5/?]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 6.1k Summary: Late September means things are only accelerating as election day grows closer. Steve is picking up momentum in the polls, and things heat up on multiple fronts before you hit a bump that may shake up the progress between you and your husband.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: You get another West Wing cameo in this chapter (but totally unnecessary to have ever watched the show). This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[SEPTEMBER 26 - WASHINGTON, DC]

The late September sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the campaign's official DC headquarters, casting long shadows across the bustling office space. You're leaning against a desk, watching with amusement as Peter Parker, the youth outreach coordinator who's also become the campaign's unofficial creative director of the TikTok segment of the social media team, attempts to explain the concept for the video to Steve.

"Okay, Cap," Peter says, his enthusiasm palpable as he holds up his phone. "We're going to do a quick transition video. It's super easy, I promise!"

Steve stands in the middle of the room, looking slightly uncomfortable but determined. He's dressed casually in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, a stark contrast to his usual campaign attire. The goal is to remind the voters that Steve is relatable to the everyday American at the end of the day.

Steve nods, a mixture of bemusement and determination on his face. "Alright, Peter. Walk me through it."

Peter's face lights up. "Okay, so you're going to start in your casual clothes, then you'll spin around. As you spin, we'll cut and you'll change into your suit. When you finish the spin, you'll be in full Captain America mode, then we’ll have you spin and change one more time, and we’ll end the video with you in your presidential get up."

"And this will... resonate with young voters?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

You can't help but chuckle. "It's about showing your versatility, Steve. From everyday guy to national hero to the next president in the blink of an eye."

Steve shoots you a playful glare. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one spinning like a top."

Peter positions Steve in front of the camera. "Okay, Cap. Just spin naturally, and we'll take care of the angles and editing.”

As Steve prepares for his first take, Bucky saunters into the room, a smirk playing on his lips. He sidles up next to you, crossing his arms as he watches his best friend awkwardly position himself in front of the camera.

"I'm sure Steve must be loving this," Bucky murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, suppressing a chuckle. "It's written all over his face."

Indeed, Steve's expression is a fascinating mix of determination and mild discomfort, his brow is furrowed in concentration.

The rapport that’s been developing with Bucky over the last few weeks has also been nice. It’s its own brand of friendship, and it’s not rock solid yet, but it’s growing.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, phone at the ready. "On three. One... two... three!"

Steve begins to spin, his movements a bit stiff in the first take.

Peter's enthusiastic voice cuts through the air. "That was great, Cap! Let's try again,” he encourages, not leaving a beat for Steve to feel awkward or like he’s done it wrong. You can tell his approach will make all the difference with Steve.

As Steve prepares for another take, you can't help but admire his willingness to step out of his comfort zone. It's one of the things that's made him such an effective candidate - his ability to adapt and connect with people across generations.

"Okay, this time, try to relax a bit more," Peter suggests. "Just have fun with it!"

Steve spares a glance at you and Bucky, then takes a deep breath, shaking out his arms. "Right. Fun. I can do fun."

Bucky snorts beside you. "This ought to be good."

As Peter counts down again, Steve starts his spin. This time, his movements are smoother, more natural.

"Perfect!" Peter exclaims. "That's the one. Now, let's get you into your tac suit for the next part."

Steve nods, heading towards the makeshift changing area set up in the corner of the room. As he disappears behind the partition, Bucky leans in closer to you.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Steve would be doing social media stunts," he says, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. "He's come a long way from the kid who could barely talk to girls in Brooklyn."

You smile, picturing a young Steve Rogers, all skinny limbs and earnest determination. "I bet he was endearing," you say.

Bucky chuckles. "Oh, he was. A real charmer. Couldn't string two words together around a pretty dame, but he had a heart of gold." He pauses, his expression growing more serious. "It's good to see him like this, you know? Engaged with the world, trying new things and connecting with people again. For a while after the Blip, I worried he’d ride off into the sunset forever before the sunset was even really here. We’re out of the century we were supposed to live in, but we’re still here, y’know? Didn’t think it would be this, but it’s not all bad. Pepper wasn’t wrong in choosing him for who he is inside.”

You nod, understanding. “When I met with her about the campaign, she’d sent me the policy materials, the plans, the opposition research detailing his strengths and weaknesses as a candidate, and I was on board to take any position she offered me on the campaign team. I never imagined working on a presidential run, but her vision, her approach? I knew I wanted to be part of it.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow. “I thought… wait…” he’s mulling over what you said. “So, when you came in, you didn’t know she wanted you to marry Steve?”

You laugh and shake your head, “Oh, no! Because that would have been crazy! Who would agree to that?”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly at your revelation. "But you just... agreed on the spot when she proposed it?"

You pause, considering how to respond. The truth is, it had been a whirlwind decision, one that you sometimes still can't believe you made. "Not exactly on the spot," you say carefully. "But...pretty quickly, yeah. It was a lot to take in, but something about it just felt right, you know?"

Bucky nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I get it. Steve has that effect on people. Makes you want to follow him into any fight, even if it's not your own."

Before you can respond, Sam walks in, eyebrows raised at the scene before him. "How’re things going here? I hear we’re starting a dance troupe?"

Bucky chuckles. "Social media campaign. Apparently, the kids these days like watching people spin around and change clothes."

Sam shakes his head, a grin on his face. “Glad I’m not going to miss it.”

“I’m suggesting you go in as back up dancer.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Barnes! You know I’d do it!”

You laugh at the easy banter between Steve’s two best friends, but then the man himself emerges from behind the partition, now clad in his tactical suit. The sight of him in the red, white, and blue outfit isn’t new, but as it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed as Captain America in person, it unexpectedly takes your breath away a little.

Steve takes his position again, looking more at ease now in his familiar uniform. "How's this, Peter?" Steve calls out, adjusting the shield on his arm.

Peter gives him a thumbs up and starts the countdown. This time, Steve's spin is confident and fluid, ending with a slight smirk that's pure Captain America.

"Nailed it!" Peter cheers. "Okay, one more outfit change and we're done."

“Hang on!” Sam calls out. His eyes light up as he looks between you and Steve, a grin spreading across his face. "We've got a golden opportunity here."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Sam rubs his hands together. "Picture this: Captain America, in full uniform, getting a kiss from his lovely wife. It's the perfect Instagram moment!"

Steve's eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Sam, I don't think-"

"No, no, hear me out," Sam interrupts, warming to his theme. "We've been pushing the whole 'relatable Steve' angle, right? Well, what's more relatable than a guy getting a kiss from his wife? Plus, it ties in the Cap persona.”

Peter's face lights up at the suggestion. "Oh man, that's genius! The engagement would be off the charts!"

Steve looks slightly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and you don’t know how to feel about it either. "I don't know, guys. Isn't that a bit... much?"

Bucky chimes in, a smirk playing on his lips. "Come on, give the people what they want."

“Et tu, Brute?” you direct this to Bucky, not at all surprised at the enthusiasm from Sam and Peter, but genuinely shocked he’s jumping on board as well.

Sam turns to you, his expression a mix of excitement and mischief. "What do you say? Want to break the internet with a kiss from Captain America?"

You hesitate, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, the idea of kissing Steve - even for a staged photo - sends a flutter through your stomach. On the other, you're acutely aware of the artificiality of the situation and the potential implications for the campaign.

You glance at Steve. His expression is unreadable, but you can see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Sam, sensing your hesitation, softens his approach. "Look, I know it might seem a bit much, but think about it. We've been working so hard to show Steve as both the hero and the everyday man. This could be a perfect blend of both."

Peter nods enthusiastically. "I think a good candid shot would be a great way to humanize the campaign. Show that even Captain America has a soft side."

You look back at Steve, and he gives a small nod. You see a mix of emotions in his eyes - uncertainty, but also a hint of something else. Trust, perhaps. "If you're okay with it, I am."

"I’m good," you agree, your heart rate picking up slightly.

Sam claps his hands together. "Great! Peter, get ready with that camera."

As Peter positions himself, you step closer to Steve. He reaches out, gently placing his hands on your waist. The tactical suit feels cool under your fingertips as you place a hand on his chest. You can feel the slight tension in his muscles.

"Ready?" Steve murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, managing a small smile. "Let’s do this," you reply once more because this is its own ‘public appearance’, and so the customary exchange only seems fitting.

Steve’s hands move from your waist around to your back, and he takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes.

You stop breathing for a moment, suspended there in his arms.

“Kiss her, punk!” Bucky shouts, and the electric moment is broken, but you both laugh, and then Steve dips you dramatically and kisses you soundly as you clutch his shoulders. The three men cheer enthusiastically and cat call you when the kiss goes on just another moment or two.

As Steve stands you back up, you both burst into laughter, the tension of the moment dissolving into genuine mirth and camaraderie. His arm is still around your waist, steadying you as you regain your balance. The warmth of his body radiates through the tactical suit, and you find yourself leaning into him slightly, your soft, round body pressing into his hard muscles.

"So, Peter," Steve calls out, his voice still tinged with amusement, "did we nail that shot, or do you need us to try again?" There's a playful glint in his eye as he says this, and you can't help but grin up at him.

Peter, looking slightly flustered but undeniably excited, nods enthusiastically. "Oh yeah, Cap! That was perfect! The internet is going to go crazy over this!"

You start to step away, ready to return to your spot by the desk, but Steve surprises you by gently pulling you back, his arm wrapping around your waist once more. The room seems to fall away as he gazes into your eyes, a softness in his expression that you've rarely seen before. Time slows as he leans in, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

His touch is feather-light, his calloused thumb brushing across your cheekbone with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The scent of him envelops you - a mixture of leather from the suit, a hint of aftershave, and something uniquely Steve.

Your heart races as Steve leans in, his breath warm against your lips. For a moment, you forget about the cameras, the campaign, everything except the man in front of you.

Steve's lips brush yours, soft and tentative at first. It's different from the performative kiss moments ago - this feels real, intimate. You respond instinctively, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. The kiss deepens, and you feel a warmth spreading through your body.

Suddenly, you're jolted back to reality by the sound of a throat clearing loudly.

You and Steve break apart, both slightly breathless. The room crashes back into focus, and you're acutely aware of the others watching. Sam has a knowing smirk on his face. Peter looks like he might explode from excitement.

"Well," Sam says, breaking the silence. "I think we've got more than enough material for social media now."

You step back from Steve, feeling the heat creep up your neck. Steve clears his throat, looking slightly flustered himself.

"Right," he says, his voice a bit rough. "I should, uh, go change for the final spin shot."

As Steve disappears behind the partition again, you catch Bucky's eye. He gives you a subtle nod, his expression unreadable. You're not sure what to make of it, but there's no time to dwell on it as Peter starts setting up for the final shot.

You return to your spot by the desk and try compose yourself. Your lips still tingle from the kiss, and you can't shake the memory of Steve's touch.

Bucky sidles up next to you, his voice low as Sam and Peter talk next to you. "That was quite a show," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You glance at him, unsure how to respond. "It's all part of the job, right?" you say, aiming for nonchalance but not quite hitting the mark.

Bucky gives you a long look, then nods slowly. "Right. The job."

Before you can say anything else, Steve emerges from behind the partition, now dressed in one of his presidential suits - a sharp navy number that accentuates his broad shoulders. You can't help but admire how he carries himself. He exudes a quiet confidence, as ever, a perfect blend of the everyday man and the leader of the free world.

"Alright, Cap," Peter calls out, "let's nail this final spin!"

Steve takes his position, and as he begins to turn, you find yourself holding your breath. The transformation is mesmerizing - from casual Rogers to Captain America to Presidential Candidate, but all of them undeniably Steve.

[SEPTEMBER 27 - TAMPA, FLORIDA]

The campaign has rented out an entire floor of a hotel for debate prep, transforming the spacious suites into makeshift war rooms as Tampa provides some key and convenient access to key southern cities by plane. Maps, charts, and policy briefings cover every available surface, and the air hums with the energy of a team on a mission.

Jake Sullivan, Steve's chief strategist, has pulled out all the stops for this crucial phase of debate preparation. He's brought in Amy Gardner, a seasoned political operative known for her sharp wit and take-no-prisoners approach. Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy commands the room, even though she sits rather casually in an armchair ten feet from Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

Her presence adds an extra edge to the already intense atmosphere. You watch as Amy paces the room, firing off rapid-fire questions at Steve, who stands behind a makeshift podium.

"What's your plan for addressing climate change?" Jake asks, his voice stern.

Steve responds confidently, "We need to transition to clean energy sources while also supporting workers in traditional energy sectors. My plan includes..."

Amy cuts him off, her tone brusque. "Too long. You've got 60 seconds max. Hit the key points and move on."

Steve nods, taking a deep breath. "Right. Clean energy transition. Support for affected workers. Immediate action on emissions reduction."

“Too succinct,” she says.

Steve frowns, clearly trying to find the right balance. Squaring his shoulders, he goes again. "Our climate plan has three key components: First, an aggressive transition to clean energy sources like wind and solar. Second, robust support and retraining for workers in affected industries. And third, immediate action to reduce emissions across all sectors. This isn't just about saving the planet - it's about creating jobs and securing America's energy independence for generations to come."

Amy nods approvingly. "Better. Now, pivot to how this contrasts with your opponent's stance."

Steve's brow furrows in concentration. "Unlike my Republican opponent, who continues to deny the reality of climate change, my plan acknowledges the crisis we face while also prioritizing American workers and innovation. We can't afford to stick our heads in the sand any longer."

"Decent," Amy says, her tone softening slightly.

“Only decent?”

“You didn’t address the Democrats’ policy. Your battle is to convince enough voters in America to break with over two hundred years of choosing between red or blue.”

You can see Steve is fighting back a sigh of frustration.

"Mr. Rogers, your opponent claims your lack of formal political experience makes you unqualified for the presidency. How do you respond?"

Steve takes a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "My experience may not be traditional, but it's been forged in the crucible of protecting this nation and its values. I've led teams through impossible situations, made tough decisions with global consequences, and always put the American people first. That's the kind of leadership experience that truly matters."

Amy nods, but doesn't let up. "Good, but tighten it up. You need to hit harder on your unique qualifications. How do you respond to critics who say your experience is outdated?"

"I'd say that my unique perspective allows me to see both where we've been and where we need to go," Steve begins, his voice steady. "I've seen this country at its best and its worst. I understand the challenges we face because I've lived through similar ones before. But I also understand the incredible potential of our future because I've seen how far we've come."

You can’t help but feel inspired by that answer, but Amy's eyes narrow, her expression sharpening. "Not bad, but you're still playing it too safe. Your opponents will come at you hard. Let's ramp this up."

She stands and begins pacing in front of Steve like a shark. "Mr. Rogers, your critics say you're nothing more than a science experiment gone right. How can you claim to represent the average American when you're literally superhuman?"

Steve's jaw tightens, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "I may have enhanced abilities, but my values and my heart are as human as anyone's. I grew up in Brooklyn during the Great Depression. I know what it's like to struggle, to feel powerless. The serum didn't change that part of me."

Your heart swells, but again Any interjects again.

"Weak," she says, her voice cutting. "You're not connecting. Try again."

Your mouth drops open slightly. That was powerful. You know it was.

Steve takes a deep breath, his knuckles whitening as he grips the podium. “I’m not a monkey on a unicycle.”

“Well, what a great start. No one wants a monkey in the White House,” she deadpans.

“I don’t need this. We did just fine in the first debate without you,” Steve nearly growls.

“Oh, I didn’t know we were aiming for just fine, I thought you wanted to win.”

Steve's eyes flash with a mixture of anger and frustration. The tension in the room is palpable, like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. You can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grinds his teeth, trying to maintain his composure.

"I'm not here to play games or put on a show," Steve says, his voice low and controlled, but with an undercurrent of steel. "I'm here because I believe in this country and what it can be. I've fought for it, bled for it, and yes, even died for it. So don't tell me I'm not connecting."

Amy opens her mouth to retort, but Steve cuts her off.

"I've seen this nation at its best and its worst," Steve goes again, his voice growing louder, more impassioned as he speaks. "I've watched it rise from the ashes of the Great Depression, triumph over fascism, and push the boundaries of human achievement. But I've also seen it torn apart by fear, prejudice, and greed."

His eyes blaze with an intensity that seems to electrify the air around him. The room falls silent, everyone transfixed by the raw emotion in his words.

"I may have been enhanced by science, but my heart, my values - they come from growing up as a scrawny kid in Brooklyn who couldn't stand by and watch bullies win. They come from the men and women I fought alongside, who gave their lives for the ideals this country stands for."

Steve's fist comes down on the podium with a resounding thud, causing several people to jump.

"I'm running for president not because I think I'm better than anyone else, but because I believe in the promise of America - a promise that's been broken too many times for too many people. I've seen what this country can do when we come together, when we fight for what's right. And I'm here to tell you, we can do it again."

Steve's voice rings out, filled with passion and conviction. The room is dead silent, everyone hanging on his every word.

"So no, I'm not a traditional politician. I don't have decades of experience playing political games or making backroom deals. What I have is a lifetime of standing up for what's right, of putting others before myself, of believing that we can always be better. I'm running because I believe in the power of ordinary people to do extraordinary things when given the chance."

He pauses, his chest heaving slightly as he looks around the room. The silence is deafening, everyone ensnared by the raw power of his words.

"That's what this campaign is about," he says, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. "It's about reminding every American that they have the power to shape this nation's future. That their voice matters, their dreams matter, this country over politicians and political agendas. It’s not a show to me.”

Steve strides away from the podium and walks out, and no one stops him. No one even moves until the weighted door to the suite swings closed again. Jake and Elsa begin conferring. Amy seems unconcerned. You’re sitting with Bucky and Sam, who exchange a look, and Bucky moves to stand, but you’re quicker.

“Let me go after him,” you find yourself saying, surprised at how fast you were to seize this situation, almost like a natural instinct.

You hurry out of the room, scanning the hallway for any sign of Steve. You catch a glimpse of his broad shoulders disappearing around a corner and quicken your pace to catch up.

"Steve!" you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor.

He stops, his back still to you, shoulders tense. As you approach, he turns slowly to face you. The fire in his eyes has dimmed, replaced by a weariness that tugs at your heart.

"Hey," you say softly, closing the distance between you. "That was... intense back there."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. It's just..." He trails off, shaking his head.

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "It's okay. Amy was pushing hard. Maybe too hard."

He looks down at your hand, then up to your face. “I’m fine.”

“I think you’ve told everyone you’re fine every day of your life, Steve Rogers, and no one needs to exist like that.”

Steve cocks his chin slightly. “But the President of the United States should have it together, shouldn’t they? People want a leader they can trust.”

You smile, but it’s not a happy smile, and his expression matches yours.

“Can I ask…?” you venture cautiously.

He nods. “Wife privileges. You can ask whatever you want. Wife duties, probably, to ask me questions I don’t want to hear.”

Wife. A flutter flares in your stomach, but you force yourself to concentrate on the moment, furiously tamping down your reaction.

He resumes walking down the hallway, but more slowly this time, and you fall into step with him as you pursue your curiosity. “A monkey on a unicycle is an oddly specific and highly uncommon comparison to bring up. Is that some reference from your time?”

Steve huffs and his eyes fill with a mix of nostalgia and resentment as he begins to speak. His voice is heavy with emotion as he remembers his past. “I used to sketch a lot when I was young. We didn't have much during the depression, but my ma always managed to scrimp and save enough to buy me a notebook for Christmas or my birthday. It stuck with me up through joining the Army.”

His expression turns somber as he continues, "And after the serum changed my body but I was put on tour to encourage people to buy bonds, it just felt...underwhelming. Discouraging. I knew I could be doing more, making a real difference. But I did what I could - I knew raising money still helped.”

You reach the end of the hallway and stand next to each other, looking out the window.

“When they sent us out to Europe to entertain the troops, it only got worse. The last day I performed, for the 107th regiment, I was heckled and booed off stage."

Steve's hands clench into fists at his sides, "I drew a silly picture of a monkey riding a unicycle; it felt like that's all I was worth to them - just another pawn in their production."

You want to reach for his hand, but it doesn’t seem like the moment. So you simply continue to listen.

“That ended up being the last day I performed a show. I found out part of the company had been captured, stuck behind enemy lines. I disobeyed direct orders, found the men, saved Bucky. After that, everything finally changed, and we got to go to work, doing good, fighting Nazis and Hydra.”

A slight smile tugs at Steve's lips as he finishes his story, "I never wanted to feel like that monkey again. But the closer we get to election day, the more this feels like just a production.”

You stay silent for a moment, mulling over the pieces of his past and the feelings he’s just shared. This isn’t an easy conversation, and it’s not the conversation you thought you would have coming out here, but you’re grateful the two of you are having it together.

You aren’t by any means a seasoned politician either, but you had seen and had to at some points play at politics in your own work. “It’s all a show, there’s no denying that. But you’re not the monkey unless you sit back and let that be the reality.”

“How do you figure that?”

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before responding. "Steve, you knew from the beginning that this campaign would be a production. You agreed to it - all of it. Including," you gesture between the two of you, your voice softening, "this arrangement. Marrying a woman you'd never even met before."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passing through them. You continue, your voice gentle but firm.

"You didn't do all this just to be a figurehead or a puppet. You did it because you want to be president. You want to be the one steering the strategy, calling the shots, making real change." You pause, making sure he's really listening. "This campaign isn't just about winning an election. It's preparation for the presidency itself."

You turn to face him fully, your eyes never leaving his. "This campaign, as frustrating and exhausting as it can be, is its own kind of preparation for the presidency. Think about it - you're dealing with conflicting advice, responding to the platforms from the candidates and how they overlap and differ from your own, connecting directly with the people across the country, making tough calls on what is and is not a priority.”

Steve listens intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considers your words. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, processing this perspective.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I did agree to all of this." He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you've noticed he has when he's deep in thought. "I just want it to mean something. To be more than just sound bites and photo ops."

You nod, understanding his frustration. "It does mean something, Steve. Every interaction you have, every speech you give, every policy you propose - it all matters. You're not just going through the motions. You're shaping the conversation, influencing people's thoughts and beliefs about what this country can be."

Steve's eyes meet yours, a mix of gratitude and something deeper there.

"She’s right, Rogers,” a voice behind you makes you both jump and turn.

“This isn't just about winning,” Amy emphasizes. “It's about learning how to navigate the complexities of leading a nation, finding your presence as the leader of the free world, as commander in chief, winning the trust of the American people.

“The debates, the press conferences, the tough decisions you'll have to make as president - they won't always be fair or comfortable. That’s why I pushed you. You won’t answer every debate question like that, but I needed to know you could go there. That’s the kind of president America wants, but they don’t know it until they see it. If you can shake them to their bones, you’ll change hearts and minds.”

Steve smiles at her half in kindness, half in disbelief. “You say all of that pretty casually.”

Amy shrugs and returns the smile. “Because it’s true. I’m done beating you up now that I know you can go the rounds. If you want me to leave, I will, but I’m game to stay if you’re game for slightly less intense verbal sparring.”

“Oh, I can do this all day.”

[SEPTEMBER 28 - ATHENS, GEORGIA]

The campaign plane hums with activity in the minutes before take off. This cabin is filled with members of the press corps, their laptops open and fingers poised over keyboards, eager for any morsel of information they can turn into their next headlines.

Steve looks almost relaxed. His tie is loosened and sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. The energy from the successful event you just wrapped up at the University of Georgia still lingers in the air. This was the fourth event of its kind - a town hall format called College Q&A limited to students and granting them access to dialogue with Steve. You can't help but feel a sense of pride as you recall how he connected with the students, his earnest answers and quick wit seeming to win over even the most skeptical audience members.

It’s become routine that Steve always takes questions from the press corps when he boards the plane before heading to the campaign team cabin, and he’s truly at ease with them in this interaction.

“We’ll take one more,” the campaign spokesperson announces to let both Steve and the reporters know it’s almost time for take off.

“Andy,” Steve calls on one of the familiar faces - the reporter from The Washington Post.

“Yes, Captain, do you have any response to Jeff Connor’s comments about your relationship with Mrs. Rogers?”

Steve's whole demeanor immediately turns serious, his jaw clenching. "I haven't heard Connor's specific comments, so I can't respond directly. My relationship with my wife is personal, and it's not up for debate or speculation."

He pauses, his eyes scanning the cabin before continuing. "What I will say is that she has been an incredible partner, both personally and for this campaign. Her intelligence, compassion, and dedication inspire me every day to be a better person and a better leader."

Steve's gaze softens a fraction as he glances in your direction. "I'm grateful she agreed to take this journey with me."

The press corps erupts with follow-up questions, but Jake holds up a hand. "That's all for now, folks, you know they won’t take off until we’re all seated and we don’t want to miss our take-off window. Thank you."

You, Steve, and the rest of your staff head into the first campaign cabin, and as soon as the door is shut, the atmosphere shifts. The professional masks slip away, replaced by a mix of concern, curiosity, and irritation. Jake immediately pulls out his phone, you assume to get the quote in question.

Elsa, your communications director, is already pulling out her laptop as she settles into a seat across from Steve. "That was the perfect response back there. Quick and heartfelt. It'll play well, especially given the context of Connor's comments."

Your personal aide Sophia is already handing you a tablet to read the quote. "Here, ma’am. It came out during the Q&A, and everyone got wind of it as we were boarding the plane."

You take the tablet, your eyes quickly scanning the headline: "Jeff Connor Speaks Out: 'I Hope They're Happy Together'" The article features a quote from Connor: "I wish them both the best. Marriage isn't easy, especially in the public eye. I just hope they've found happiness together."

You pass it over to Steve and then chew on your lip, pulling out your own phone.

It only takes him a moment to read as well. "Thanks,” Steve's brow furrows as he loosens his tie further and passes the tablet back to Sophia. “This seems fine, unless I’m missing something. But who is this guy, and why would we care what he thinks of our marriage more than anyone else?"

A beat of silence falls over the cabin. You can feel the weight of several pairs of eyes on you, a mixture of surprise and shock in their gazes.

“Okay, I’m clearly the only one who doesn’t know,” Steve concedes, a shade of irritation bleeding through his tone, “Anyone care to enlighten me?”

You take a steadying breath, then look up at Steve and say, “Jeff Connor is my former husband.”

next part: ATHENS TO MIAMI

I'll just say that I've been waiting for this chapter in the story almost from the beginning. 😌

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I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[thequeenofcupps]

°˖ ☢︎ HAZARD X GN!READER ☢︎ ˖°

A/N: I LOVEDDDD this request and I just had to do it, this is indeed a gn!reader but it can be whatever you want! Also @urlocaldesertdweller requested this!

Summary: hazards voice, and him just being a softy and Him using Scottish slang

What’s in this!: some suggestive part in this, I think like thing, mostly fluff, and I think this might be ooc but himbo!hazard, I make ONE bad joke, you and him are bffs with Suzie in this

☢︎ This man loves you so goddamn much, he likes making you feel good about yourself but unfortunately he does like putting you first instead himself meaning he does get hurt more often so please try and make him

☢︎ He has like so many nicknames for you and it’s insane

Likes for example: hen, Bonnie, lass, pretty thing, sweetheart, darling, babes, baby, and Bràmair (it’s a Scottish Gaelic word that can mean "lover", "sweetheart", "boyfriend", or "girlfriend")

☢︎ He’s such a gentleman for you, he’s always holding doors open for you, letting go first at anything and he just likes making feel like royalty, hell he throw his jacket over a puddle for you

☢︎ He knows you love his voice, you fold everytime you hear him talk to you and he knows it’s your weak spot

Like he’ll come up from behind you if you’re doing something like cooking or anything and talk to you with his head on your shoulder

And sometimes when he’s feeling phreaky (hehe) he’ll whisper something inappropriate in your ear and walk off like he didn’t do anything thing

☢︎ (I don’t know his canon height yet so please bare with me)

This man is TALLLL and he really really likes the height difference between the 2 of you, but he will fuck with you like he’ll put stuff in places you can’t reach or he’ll grab something you asked him to get a tall place AND HE’LL HOLD HIS ARM ABOVE HIS HEAD AND HE’LL SAY SOME ASS THING LIKE “aww What’s wrong pretty thing? Can’t reach?” He’ll give it to you don’t worry

☢︎ His heart melts when he sees you getting along with his friends and his dog

Actually when he first met you and he was surprisingly shy too talk to you that Suzie had to practice with him to get enough courage to talk to you

☢︎ Speaking of Suzie

You and her are the biggest bffs and hazard likes that you get along great with her and it’s warms his heart to see you both get along like he does

☢︎ The rest of the phreaks are really shocked at how hard he folds for you considering he’s runs a tight knit gang and that he’s slightly violent

And he’s surprised that you love his voice so much

☢︎ Fighting with each other usually ends with him apologizing first and after all that’s done he likes to pamper you with kisses and cuddles

☢︎ he very protective of you, I mean don’t get me wrong he knows you are fully capable of handling yourself but considering what he does for a living he gets scared something will happen to you when he’s gone off to a mission or something

☢︎ he can get jealous at times but not in like a “I saw you say hi to them now ur not allow to talk to anybody else except me” way but more so in a way that he’ll get jelly, thinks he’s being ridiculous, then it’s over

☢︎ he’s a girl dad

Sorry just felt like throwing that out there

☢︎ Overall you and him are a perfect pair and you both have each other’s backs no matter what and he loves you a shit ton and nothing can break the love that you guys have

A/n:

DAWG I LOVE THAT MAN SO MUCH LIKE AHRJEBSHDUEJA

anyways I hope you liked this sorry if I didn’t stay on request

But thank you for requesting!

[moanz111]

✩°⋆｡ system error ⋆｡°✩ - 20

chapter 20 ✧ unforeseen circumstances - written + texts

< previous ✧ m.list ✧ next >

synopsis ✧ you've always dreamt of having your fantasy-like love story. naturally, hearing the sweet melodic ring of your love alarm was what you wanted the most, right? until it actually happened. four times.

pairing ✧ uni student! choi san x fem! uni student! reader

wc ✧ 4.2 k (i apologise)

warnings ✧ english is not my native language so there could be mistakes; attempt for humour; reader is confused af and so is san; swearing; mentioned fear of heights (reader is a bit scared but the description is very brief and she's riding a ferris wheel); reader is in an emotional crisis lowkey; lmk if i've missed something

If you got a penny every time you got yourself into an extremely uncomfortable situation, you would’ve had at least 20 by now and it was just 1 pm. 

You weren't going home anytime soon. 

“Y/n, stop spacing out. We still have 2 more hours,” Beomgyu whispered in your ear, nudging you with his elbow. You had agreed to come to this so-called “Love Alarm” dating event just to make him happy and maybe test your own alarm again, but you hadn’t had any idea it was going to be this excruciating for your poor soul. You tried your best to smile, talk to people when they showed interest but with each interaction your social battery was rapidly dying. Beomgyu, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of his life which made you feel a little guilty for having running away thoughts.

The park was bustling with students and music could be heard playing from speakers placed on the ground. Most of the benches were occupied by groups of friends or newly found matches that the alarm had brought together. A pinch of jealousy stung your heart by the sight of them. 

Wish my alarm and I weren't in a dysfunctional toxic relationship.

You let your eyes wander, trying to spot familiar faces even though the thought of someone you knew seeing you there, mortified you. The possibility of that wasn’t high but never zero since all of your university’s students were invited and granted an entry. You found it kind of funny - the way so many were positive their soulmate was walking the same ground as them right now and what they were waiting for was the love alarm to bring them together. For some that would be the case but others were surely up for disappointment. No one really knew how the whole mechanism worked and it appeared that everything was random - the time, the place but the alarm was certain of one thing - the person. 

Shaking your head as if it could chase away your thoughts, you took in the atmosphere and breathed in the fresh early spring air, the warm breeze ruffling  your hair which you moved out of your face, annoyed. 

“Can’t we go sit down and eat? If I talk to one more man, I’ll explode,” you said, stopping in your tracks and pointing towards an empty blanket on the grass near you. A bunch of people were lying down on the field, chatting, eating or playing board games. You wished you had brought your cards deck. A rematch with Beomgyu was all you wanted after he had beaten you in a game of war last weekend. 

“Fine,” Beomgyu rolled his eyes, strolling towards it and you followed quietly behind him. If you made him talk enough and maybe made him ride the ferris wheel with you, maybe he would get tired enough so both of you could go home. As if sensing your plan, he abruptly turned around, “Stop scheming, we aren't leaving.”

You let out a sigh and sat down on the white blanket with colourful flowers drawn on it. It was warm and fluffy and it tickled your hands as you plopped yourself down, supporting your body on your elbows. Maybe if you fell asleep then…

“Hey, isn't that Wooyoung?”

Yeah, your plan was definitely going down the drain. 

If Wooyoung saw you here, he would make fun of you for centuries and he could even tell Mingi about it. Or even worse. Choi San.

Choi San? Who was currently walking beside his friend, apparently not having spotted you yet.

He had a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket on, his black jeans matching it. A beanie of the same colour was covering his hair and you noticed a necklace dangling around his neck. 

He looked…good?

... handsome? 

You shoved your thoughts away and focused on Wooyoung instead who wore his usual black Chrome Hearts hoodie and some baggy jeans, a beanie on his head. The two boys’ outfits matched which made you smile to yourself. But who were you to laugh when you and Beomgyu weren't any better. Your closets were basically almost identical. 

“Over here,” Beomgyu shouted as he got up to catch their attention. This was going to be the most mortifying interaction of the day. 

Another penny added.

“Beomgyu, don't call them over here,” you whispered as you got up to a seated position, tugging at his jeans. 

“Don’t be so obsessed with me, they’re my friends too.”

You snorted at his answer, turning to look at the boys who were approaching you. Wooyoung was enthusiastically waving in your direction while San looked indifferent to what was about to happen.

Lately, it was harder to be around him. After he made the step to try and make amends with you, you weren't sure how to behave around him. Did that make you friends again? Or maybe just acquaintances? Whatever it was you tried your hardest to be on your best behaviour especially for Wooyoung and Mingi’s sake. For Seonghwa’s too. You had no idea how he managed to stay so composed while you bickered over nothing during tutoring. Maybe he was due his apology soon.

“Now, now, look who we have here,” Wooyoung exclaimed as he stood in front of you, grinning. San was next to him, greeting Beomgyu with a hug. “I’m hurt, Y/n. You could've just asked me out instead of coming here.”

“You and Y/n? I’d rather bleach my eyes than witness this,” Beomgyu chimed in before you got the chance to respond to which Wooyoung laughed.

“Makes two of us,” San added, a slight annoyance apparent in his tone, and you looked at him curiously. For the first time in a while you weren't met with his cold eyes, piercing right through you. His gaze was warm, maybe even friendly? 

My brain is playing tricks on me.

“Don’t be so jealous, Sannie,” Wooyoung said, tapping him on the shoulder which earned him a smack on the neck. “Ouch?”

“Deserved,” Beomgyu laughed and looked over at you. “Cat got your tongue? Oh, right, she said she doesn't want to talk to men anymore today.”

“Trust me, you will get the longest silent treatment out of everyone here.”

“Mean.”

“So what are you two doing here?” Wooyoung asked, changing the topic just as you and Beomgyu were about to start bickering again. Truly fascinating how the biggest instigators turned into peacemakers in dire situations. 

“Y/n wants a boyfriend and since I’m an amazing friend, I came to judge her questionable taste,” Beomgyu teased and you pulled at the fabric of his jeans again, making him slightly lose his balance. 

“He wanted to say he was the one who dragged me here because he can't go anywhere alone,” you said in a matter of fact tone which got a chuckle out of Wooyoung. 

“This version is more believable.”

“And what about you two,” you asked, trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible even though curiosity burned in you. You could imagine Wooyoung coming to an event like that but San? It wasn’t like you knew him that well anyway, maybe he was looking for a partner. For some reason, the thought of that made your stomach twist a little. 

Huh…?

“I dragged San here,” Wooyoung announced proudly and wrapped his hand around his friend’s wide shoulders and San threw him a sarcastic smile. “Don't tell anyone though, it's between the four of us.”

“Yeah, and the 10 other people who saw us here and greeted you,” San added.

“Oh, well…That’s something I can’t control. Having a pretty face means attracting attention.”

“Anyway, why don't we hang out for some time? Y/n and I were just about to eat,” Beomgyu suggested suddenly and all you could do was to side eye him. Sure, of course they were his friends but you and San in the same space was never a good idea.

“A spectacular idea!” Wooyoung’s enthusiasm was contagious. You had to calm down and enjoy the moment, Choi San wasn't the cause of every problem in the universe and he wasn't even that bad. He had a good sense of humour and he had a pretty laugh and dimples and you loved his habit of him closing his eyes when he found something funny and-

“Y/n to Earth…” Beomgyu’s voice brought you back to reality and you shook your head. What was in the air today? Maybe it was the pollen that had you acting this weirdly? “You totally spaced out.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said after coughing quietly to clear your voice and you shifted your focus to Wooyoung who you thought had probably said something moments ago, judging by the amused expression on his face. Staring at your shoes all day and spacing out wasn't going to make things better. “What were you saying?”

“I said me and Beomgyu will go grab some food from the trucks and you and San can stay here and wait,” he repeated and you shifted uncomfortably in your place. Yes, the universe was testing you.

Sure, you had been alone with him plenty of times be it for tutoring or when you used to hang out before but now it felt different. Your nerves were going to eat you inside out. 

San had an unreadable expression on his face when you looked at him and Beomgyu just winked (?) at you when you turned to him so you just shrugged. “I’m okay with that.”

“I’m okay with that, too,” added San and Beomgyu and Wooyoung looked at each other, a knowing smile forming on both of their lips. 

“Then we’re set,” Beomgyu clapped his hands and patted you on the shoulder as he bent to pick up his bag from the ground. “Behave yourself.”

“What am I? A dog?”

“Obviously. Then, see you in a bit.” As both Beomgyu and Wooyoung turned their back on you and walked towards the food trucks, you felt abandoned. Maybe that was a little dramatic. San was just San. No need to be so stressed. You could just sit in silence and that was going to be it. No need to have a conversation. 

“So how are you doing?” San asked as he laid down on his side next to you, his hand supporting his head. You could sense the scent of his perfume and his biceps were basically almost ripping his jacket in this position. His face was glowing, his clear skin illuminated by the sunlight, gently coming through the tree’s branches. Mentally, you slapped yourself across the face. Staring was rude. 

“I’m alright,” you answered, trying to find strength again. You seriously needed to stand up. Choi San shouldn't have had that much power over your mind. “Exhausted after the social torture Beomgyu put me through.”

San chuckled at your comment, his dimples slightly appearing. “I guess I understand why he and Wooyoung get along.”

“They’re friends?” 

“Shouldn't you know that,” he asked, confused, one of his eyebrows raised. You knew they knew each other. Obviously, Beomgyu was close with San so it was only natural for him to be around Wooyoung too but your friend never talked about this, given how your relationship with San was. 

“I just had no idea they were that close,” you said simply. San regarded you curiously for a moment before speaking again. “I think they’ve got closer recently. I don't know how or why but they’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“Then they’re definitely up to no good.” This was truly interesting. Beomgyu was notorious for doing things behind your back so you wondered if this was the case this time around too. Him making remarks about your dating life all the time, telling you to stop “adding more men to the equation”, him giving Wooyoung your number, you joining his talent show team, him flirting all the time, San, his best friend and your arch nemesis, suddenly following you on your social media and being kind of friendly, and now Beomgyu dragging you here and Wooyoung was miraculously here too? Was he…No way. There was no way.

Was he setting you up with Wooyoung? 

The thought made you shiver. There was just no way for this to be happening. 

You stopped yourself from gasping at the realisation and instead closed your eyes to take a deep breath. Beomgyu was going to get an earful from you very soon.

Maybe you could ask San about it? But what were you going to say to him?

Hey, I think my best friend is trying to set me up with your best friend so I wanted to ask you if he’s in love with me?

…

I sound so delusional and out of my mind.

You chose silence and turned to look at San who was staring at the small stage being set up a few meters away from you. There was going to be a concert later in the afternoon organised by the university’s band and you wondered if Beomgyu would make you stick around for this long to watch it. 

Suddenly, your phone vibrated in your tote bag and you took it out, seeing you’ve got a text from Beomgyu.

You sighed, locking your phone and turning to San again. “Beomgyu said Wooyoung feels sick so they went back to the dorms.”

“What? Is he okay? I should go there too,” San said and took out his phone. 

“He said they didn't need help and he just needed to take some pills. But you can text him, just in case…” you trailed off, unsure of what to do now. San didn't answer, instead focusing on his phone, seemingly reading a text. His eyebrows furrowed more and more with each movement of his eyes and he rubbed his temples with his free hand. “Yeah, he has texted me. Apparently, he doesn't need any more assistance and will take a nap.”

“Well, then I won't keep you if you want to go home too,” you said even though you weren't sure if you wanted to do that yet. Yes, you absolutely hated the speed dating and Beomgyu dragging you around but this was also a chance to maybe find out what Choi San’s issue with you was. If you cornered him…

That sounds too insane.

“No! I mean,” San hesitated. “We can at least grab some lunch together. Wouldn't hurt, would it?”

“I suppose not,” you said, smiling slightly and surprisingly San did the same.

Hanging out with your so-called arch nemesis wasn't as bad as you thought it could be. 

San ordered for you, paid for your lunch, treated you to some bubble tea and then got you ice cream. Yeah, maybe it sounded like wallet abuse on your part but in reality he just kept insisting on doing all this and wouldn't hear any of your protests. It was a bit flustering even if you were secretly enjoying it. His company was also nice. He was respectful, kept the conversation going and surprisingly he seemed to be having a good time too. 

Time seemed to pass by quickly while you were together. You found yourself talking about anything and everything with him - he told you about his current florist job, how annoying some customers were and how much he adored making bouquets and arrangements, and you told him about your love for clothes and fashion and how you still haven’t returned Hongjoong his sewing machine. You joked, you laughed and you felt liberated in a way. For the first time in a while  you didn’t have to tiptoe around San, too afraid that the thin ice beneath your feet was going to crumble.

Is this what happens when we aren't so stubborn?

Currently, you were sitting on a bench, taking in the atmosphere around you in comfortable silence as the last sunbeams were illuminating the sky. The sunset painted it in shades of orange, pink and purple and you sighed contently, bopping your head in the rhythm of the song that the university’s band was rehearsing. A small group of people had already gathered and was clapping in encouragement after each song. San was humming quietly next to you, tapping with his foot and you snorted. “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?”

“What do you mean,” he said surprised and turned to look at you. His natural soft blush could be seen on his cheeks and your heart warmed up at the sight. For probably the 10th time today. He had taken his beanie earlier and now his messy locks were falling freely around his face.

“Being good at dancing and now even at singing? Can’t you leave something for the rest of us?”

Your comment earned you a chuckle from San, his fist coming up to cover his lips. you could swear his cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red. “No need to exaggerate, Y/n. Lying is bad.”

“Hey, I’m being serious,” you exclaimed. “But better hide that talent from Beomgyu. He would get even more mad that we aren’t in the same team for the talent show. I heard he has been looking for a vocalist.”

“And while we’re still on the topic,” San said, running his hand through his dark hair. “Why did you agree to join our team?”

“It was a good opportunity to practice my skills. Plus, Wooyoung was way too enthusiastic for me to turn him down.”

“Even though you have to spend more time with me too?” When you met his eyes, a glint of hope and maybe hurt could be read in them. When had things gone so irrevocably wrong with both of you? 

“Listen,” you started, unsure of what to say. There wasn’t truly a right or wrong answer. “I don’t mind spending time with you, it’s just so…”

“Awkward?” “You could say so. But it’s also hard because I have no idea what I have done to you. I want to fix this,” you gestured to the space between you two. “But again - you aren’t helping. Maybe I’m not doing it either. We’re both stubborn.”

“Yes, we are I suppose,” San agreed, seemingly deep in thought. “I just don’t know how much I can tell you and how much you know…”

“What do you mean?”

A ding interrupted San who had just opened his mouth to answer. “I’m sorry.”

You hurriedly took your phone out of your pocket and saw you had 5 new texts from none other than Beomgyu.

Feeling your heart picking up its pace, you clenched your jaw. You were so so so so wrong earlier. Beomgyu wasn’t setting you up with Wooyoung. 

It was San all along.

The tutoring, the way Beomgyu was so opposed of you hanging out with Yeonjun, the way he was trying his hardest to force you and San to interact...

You wondered if Wooyoung was his accomplice then and what had he told San? Did San know anything? 

“Hey, are you okay? You look a little pale,” San’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you locked your phone, forcing yourself to look at his now concerned face as he put his hand on your shoulder. 

“Everything’s alright. It’s just Beomgyu being a menace.” You smiled lightly and you fought the urge to get up and run away. 

Even if the situation was becoming severely uncomfortable with each passing second, this all didn’t automatically overrule how happy you were with San today. You got to see his usual sweet self and not whatever was presented to you on the daily. You also had got so close to him opening up to you so you couldn’t just leave him like that. Your heart was greedy to spend some more time with him before you had to deal with whatever Beomgyu thought he was doing. 

“Are you scared of heights?” Your sudden question made San furrowed his brows confused and you just pointed to the ferris wheel shyly. 

As San took your hand gently and led you to the tickets queue, all you could see were his deep dimples.

Yes, you were positive your heart was going to burst today.

You were a little scared of heights. 

But exposure therapy worked, right? It had to because currently you were hanging meters away from the ground and the only thing you could think about was how you were almost able to feel San’s breath hitting your face. The cabin was rather small and his form being much bigger than yours meant he was taking most of the space even if you were sitting across from each other. Your legs were between his and occasionally your knees would touch which sent a jolt down your spine that you were desperately trying to ignore. 

Instead, you focused on the view before you - the sun had completely disappeared under the moon’s watchful gaze and now the city’s  and the campus’ lights were shimmering like stars in the distance. San’s surprised squeaks would make you giggle now and then when he was showing you something he had spotted while the ferris wheel was spinning slowly. 

“This is my first time riding a ferris wheel,” San said quietly, drawing your attention back to him. Even though the cabin lacked lighting, you could still see the playfulness in his eyes as he looked at you intently. 

“It’s my first time too,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. Was it always this hot here? 

“Really? That’s rather special, Y/n,” San teased you. “Wouldn’t you rather share this moment with someone else? I’ll start thinking we’re friends.” “Well,” you coughed, clearing up your voice. “I’d say I would like to consider us friends given how civilised we were today.”

San laughed loudly, his whole body shaking, “That’s true. Then - friends?”

“Friends,” you answered grinning and took his extended hand to shake it, sealing your deal. His hand was hugging yours completely and you wished you could stay like this a little longer when you lost contact with his skin. “You still haven’t told me the whole story behind our enemies era though.”

“Shouldn’t you tell me your point of view too?

“I was just returning the energy you were giving me.”

“Deserved,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Let’s say this can wait for another time. I don’t want to ruin this moment like any other we’ve had lately.”

Something passed in his eyes, an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher but when were you able to do it when it came to San?

So now, locking eyes with him once again, you felt electricity buzzing between the two of you as he leaned in closer to you. Unspoken words were hanging around you and filled the space but you shoved those aside and noticed his gaze going back and forth between your eyes and lips. You felt your cheeks heating up under his stare and you held your breath, too scared to make even the quietest noise. Your faces were mere centimeters away from each other and

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you cursed your phone mentally. You were sure you put it on dnd mode earlier.

“Don’t worry. Answer it,” San said softly and smiled at you, leaning back on his seat and putting some distance between you two. It wasn’t like you were going to kiss anyway. Right?

Nodding, you reached for your bag, forgotten on the seat next to you and your hand was searching for it impatiently until you felt it and took it out. Just as your trembling fingers were about to unlock it, the cabin shook causing you to drop your phone on the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay. I think we’ll have to get off soon,” San explained as he reached down to grab your phone for you. “And you really need to stop apologising.”

At this moment the doors opened and the employee announced that 20 minutes had passed so the fun was officially over. You stepped out first, feeling a little dizzy and walked to the side so you could wait for San without blocking the way. 

Seconds after, he came next to you, handing you your phone with an unreadable expression, “Here you are.”

“Thanks,” you said, panic arousing inside you. 

What if it was Beomgyu again and he saw his weird texts? Or even worse - it was the group chat since Beomgyu never knows when to shut up-

“I’ll go get us some water, you can wait here if you want to,” San said as he looked around. “There’s an empty bench there.”

“I’ll go sit there then.” 

Parting ways with him even for a bit, gave you room to process what had just happened in the cabin and you sat down with a sigh. Your feet hurt because you chose to wear your new shoes today out of all days and more than anything you felt so many different emotions at once that you had no idea which one to focus on first and it made you even more mentally exhausted. You weren’t sure what was happening between the two of you but whatever it was - it was gaining momentum way too quickly. 

Are we crazy? Yesterday we got into yet another argument and today…

Reading your texts, you decided, was the easiest task for now but as you unlocked your phone, everything came crashing down around you once again. 

Your blood froze as the severity of the situation hit you. The answer had been right under your nose this whole time.

San was possibly your soulmate.

note ✧ i know this got very long and i feel like it's 5 chapters in one but i really want to get things moving so please understand 😭 i haven't written a full length chapter in a while so feedback is greatly appreciated, i hope this isn't that bad (the struggle was real and im not sure im satisfied but)! i hope you enjoyed reading it <3

taglist ✧ @jjaelly ; @cookiechristie ; @downbadreading ; @tubatu-wari-wari ; @giuliadesu ; @alyssajavenss ; @baguette-atiny ; @miriamxsworld ; @mrowwww ; @lynnsqueendom ; @mikaymee ; @stfu-rina ; @moonis-world ; @paragonofroyalty ; @chermonroe ; @lunaryoongie ; @nushkstardust ; @huachengsbestie01 ; @nickiminajleftasscheek ; @seonghwifey ; @stopeatread ; @wildesreblogs ; @staytinyluv ; @flamingi

taglist is open! <3

[pumpkinsy0]

since its thanksgiving, im just gonna offer the headcanon idea i know we're all thinking about today: hcs for extended family visiting the curtis' house for the first time and they're very passive aggressive doing that nice but mean southern thing and Pony (having moved to NY in my mind and being the progressive king that he is 💗) is tweaking out a little but is trying to keep his composure so his brothers (and the part of the gang that's celebrating with them) can get to know the family without interruption and be able to somehow be closer to their parents in a way?? Idk but that's my kings logic, but then... they say smth about Curly or him and curly and/or the gang being there and Pony goes OFF. Like no one has ever seen him get so mad and get so VERBAL about it 😭 I feel like once the extended family leaves everyone is like THANK GOD and Pony was so confused because he thought they were chilling but in REALITY they were just as mad as him but bit their tongues because they wanted PONY to be able to feel more connected to their parents through their extended family ANDD perhaps the reason some of the extended family said smth about curly is because OUR KING was telling them off privately or smth! Is this ask too long and detailed to be considered a hc request? (Also if it wasn't clear, adult papercut because I loooove them)

i love thanksgiving beef man, sometimes its funny asf😭😭

but omg u r so real for having pony move to nyc cause i was always thinking the same lowkey,,,,yes its self projection to have him live there but i have other reasons guys i swear i do!!!!

BUT YEA!! hcs woo!!!!!

•ive always believed that mr and mrs curtis kinda ran away FROM their families and went no contact around the time mrs curtis was pregnant w darry, darrys always been aware of it but it never bothered him much!! but he knows soda and ponys always had some sort of curiosity about em, thing is their parents never told them y they went no contact, so when that side if the family reached out they were like “what the hell, sure”

•and for extra drama lets say this side of the family r socs, i like drama what can i say, BUT POINT IS, none of em rlly know shit about the other, but the gang SWEARS to b on their best behavior for the sanity of each other

•skipping to them actually BEING there, i will tell u that while tensions were TOTALLY there, there was a sliver of hope. they were friendly at first (mostly to the curtis bros) and kinda dismissive of the gang asking if they were gonna day the WHOLE day, but they werent “outright disrespectful” so they sucked it up

•yes btw, that was a red flag for like EVERYONE, but like u said, theyre all going through this bs for the sake of everyone else, if one person loses it, they all will

•this isnt to say that the gang is 100% biting their tongues tho!!! they arent taking it from anyone, they just dont do as much as they normally would, they share looks and annoyed sighs too, that whole friendly thing from early is just deteriorating

•ANYWAYS that family is talking shit about everything, its literally EVERYTHING, their house, their clothes, the food, they knitpick EVERYTHING, the only person theyre showing any semblance of respect towards is pony!!! they r absolutely taking shots at darry and soda, calling them irresponsible to raise pony the way they did, and then they say “bless ur hearts”???? oh yea everyone is SICCCKKKK of them😭😭

•nobody rlly has a problem w them hyping up pony, they will take all the shots if that just means pony is respected , thats their little brother right there!!!! so when the family is just questioning pony about living in nyc and his life there, theyre genuinely interested, but ponys not warming up to em, he can feel them pity him a little bit and he hatessss pity

•especially bc their pity is coming from their judgement of his family!!! they feel bad for him for being raised in such a “poor enviorment”

•BUT BACK TO CURLY!!! when they hear about curly being ponys roommate, u already knowwww they got something to say about him, pony didnt even mention them being together, they just had that vibe about pony (LMAOOOO), and turns out talking about curly was just ponys tipping point cause now u ESPECIALLY know nothing about that part of his life!! shut up!!!

•pony blowing up at them would b such a quick thing, he doesnt stay there and argue, he says what he has to say (which idk what he says exactly but ik it was insane, pony has such a way w words) and just walks out to get fresh air

•when he finally calms down and gets himself together tho, iiii dont think hes going back home immediately, he feels so bad for ruining the dinner and doesnt have the strength to go back inside in fear of everyone looking at him and seeing darry and soda all sulky

•eventually after walking for a solid 30 mins he got rlly cole and decided to go back inside and he just sucked it up and went back inside, however!!!! he noticed the family left and his heart dropped but when he walked in he noticed that everyone else was still eating and talking!!happier even!!! yahoo!!!!!

•pony tried apologizing and all the gang said was “who cares, they sucked”, darry DID scold pony telling him not to do that again but pony could tell darrys heart wasnt in it, hes so glad they left😭😭

•pony never told curly about this btw, he finds out about this months later bc of two and curly neverrrr lets pony forget about it and hypes him up

[bangtansfavwriter]

🎨 art supplies store owner! taehyung 🎨

- You were once again out of white paint and realised that you had also lost several brushes in the limbo of your room.Every single out supply you had found its way on the floor as you were rummaging through your stuff to find that one brush that seemed to be the key for your painting to be perfect. So you were standing there in the middle of the room, ready to let your inner Monet out, easel and canvas right in front of you..... and proceeded to throw the rubbish brushes across the room. The good ones were simply nowhere to find. You sighed deeply and went to pick up the brushes since your rage quit faded away as quickly as it happened in the first place. Weirdly enough, even this moment couldn’t curb your enthusiasm to paint again after a time which felt like ages, so you picked up the phone and looked up where to find art supply stores nearby.

- And there were NONE, at least not one that seemed to fit your needs, as you knew about that one store nearby that barely had any art supplies but a whole lot of stationary stuff.

- So you decided to just do sketches instead and went on with your day, despite the lingering disappointment of unfulfilled motivation

- A few days later, as you were wandering through town in search of a bakery that had almond croissants everybody you knew seemed to obsess over.

- You walked past a place that drew your attention and you immediately walked back to take a closer look

- You were standing there, in absolute awe of the minimalist yet gorgeous showcase of beautiful paintings that were put up between fine decorations of dried flowers, old brushes and used palettes, right next to an old record player and vintage vinyls, mostly of jazz artists.

- What surprised you most about it that it all seemed so personal – like an artist who was showcasing a part of their atelier, which drew you in so much that you found yourself studying every little detail

- Mentally you were drawing a picture of that person whose paintings and belongings you were looking at. It felt like a fresh breath of air to you, yet you felt a sense of familiarity that usually grabs one when you suddenly recognise a scent that wanders through air, like a loved one’s perfume, or the scent of fresh pastries that remind you of the now closed bakery that used to frequent in your childhood days. Something about this took you right back and you found yourself lost in thought, while listening to an old street musician was playing an accordion nearby.

- “I wish I could meet you”, you thought to yourself and mentally lamented over the fact that you probably cannot ever tell this stranger what their work did to you at that very moment.

- You took a few more steps to now see the next window that was decorated similar to the one that drew you in so intensely.

- You were taken by surprise when you noticed a guy with dark brown hair and roundish glasses who was watching you through the window the entire time.

- You started laughing at yourself when you realised how you must have looked, startled, tired, fascinated and in dire need of the almond croissants.

- The stranger in the shop smiled back at you with a gorgeous, boxy smile that instantly made a warm feeling erupt through your body.

- He hinted at the door, a silently plea for you to enter and join him in the shop

 - The little bells at the door rang through the shop as you finally entered the cozy store

- You instantly realised how tough it was going to be to keep your cool around him because this man was ridiculously handsome and looked at you with his big brown and sweet-as-honey eyes... and wtf were you supposed to do but to crush on a complete stranger? Your heart could only take this much, right?

- “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” he said as he shyly scratched his head and smiled. “No worries. I suppose I was to immersed in this showcase at the front that I didn’t take notice of you over there.”

-  You both went quiet and neither seemed to be able to stop staring at the other one.

- “Uhm,” you started fidgeting with your bag, “do you... perhaps know where i can buy some high quality oil paint and ... I think they’re called filbert brushes?” He stared at you with a blank face, which suddenly made you feel confused, until he snorted and hinted at his surroundings with both hands.

- You looked around and felt pure embarrassment creeping throughout your body, as you were, in fact, standing in the middle of an art supplies store and happened to be right in front of a wall display of a whole colour palette of paint tubes.

- The stranger giggled when you mumbled “Oh my god...” and hid your face behind your hands.

- “Please don’t be like that!” he exclaimed, as he feared he made you feel self-conscious all of a sudden. “I can help you after all. Please...”. He looked at your pleadingly, waiting for your response. He huffed out in relief when you smiled at him, touched by his attempt to lift your spirits which worked instantly. You, once again, found yourself bewitched by his dazzling, boxy smile. 

- “Filbert brushes, let’s see ...” he said and started walking through the shop. Meanwhile, you let your gaze wander across the utensils that were displayed between old wooden tables and shelves that had vintage and probably hand-made carvings on them, too. You looked at the posters of Miles Davis, Chet Baker and Ella Fitzgerald and noticed the many vinyls at the opposite side of the wall. “I’m guessing the vinyls at the front are a part of this collection?” you asked loudly, unsure about where he was among the shelves. “Yup, they are my babies.” he replied, and you could swear he was smiling as he said that.

- He walked towards you, indeed with this handsome smile of his that made your knees feel weak. “You know, that’s probably my most prized possession. I have a thing for jazz, I suppose. And art, obviously. But jazz, especially on vinyl... that’s just pure class, in my humble opinion.” – “I agree. Though I think it’s a shame I can’t see Billy Holiday anywhere. Don’t you have her poster here?”

-  He was standing in front of you, his arm leaning against the wall next to you. He was observing your every feature, taking in how your lips were slightly parted and how flushed your cheeks became under his gaze. He, too, felt a blush creep upon his face, as he wondered how someone’s eyes could be so piercingly beautiful.

- “Filbert brushes! Let’s go get those brushes...” he mumbled and walked away from you instantly, but to a halt a few metres away from you. You followed him and noticed the set of four filbert brushes which he shyly handed you over.

- “You’re a life saver. Thank you so much!” you beamed. The stranger felt blood rushing to his head once again and hoped you wouldn’t notice his now deep crimson ears and the blush that made its way over his entire face. You were way too concerned with your own, though, to notice that he was as affected as you were. He nodded at you and went back to the counter, hoping to gain some composure again. He felt like he lost every ounce of it as soon as he noticed you looking at his paintings outside the shop. Seeing someone so immersed in the little display of his mind that he tried to represent over there was a huge boost to his ego but at the same time he found himself unable to look away from you. When you had noticed him, he was actually afraid you’d think of him as a creep. Hearing the bells toll inside the shop, made any worry fade, though, and replaced it with a sense of familiarity that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Yet he knew that you were not to stay a stranger for him and tried to calm his heartbeat that rose with every inch of the red string of fate that led you to him. “Stay.” was the only thought resonating inside his mind.

- You followed suit and walked to the counter where you put down the brushes and pulled your wallet out. “No, absolutely not” he said with a stern look on his face, surprising you with his sudden change of demeanour. “Why?” you asked “Just let me pay.” You almost started laughing at the bewildered look on his face. “I’m actually serious. I’ll take it as a personal offense if you don’t accept my gift.”

- “Oh my god, ok!”. He watched you put the brushes in your bag and now smiled rather sadly. He was suddenly hoping for a rain storm, ideally with lightning strikes and such. What if you were afraid of thunder though? Would he be able to soothe you? Would you stay with him and listen to him sing My Funny Valentine to you? Oh, how he wanted to be Chet Baker for you.

- “Is everything ok?” you asked him, noticing his sudden and obviously intense train of thought. He nodded. The door suddenly seemed far to near for both of you.

- “I’ll get going now...” you said under your breath and took heavy steps towards the door. How you wished you could hear him talk about his favourite artists more. How great it would be to listen to him explaining how he came across every record of his vinyl collection. Why couldn’t you be more upfront with him and show him how utterly fascinated you were by him, how ridiculously attracted you were to him...

- “Take care...?” you said in a questioning voice, hoping to now have a name to this handsome face. “It’s Taehyung” he replied. “Please, grant me your name, too, before you leave.”

- You were sure your heart was about to jump out of your chest at his plea.

- “My name is Y/N...”

- “Y/N” he repeated slowly, with his deep, honey-like voice that made your name sound like the shortest poem you ever heard. “Oh, this is on” you thought. “There’s no way I won’t go after this connection or whatever the hell this is.”

- “Will I see you again, Y/N?” he asked.

- “You will. Pretty soon actually.”

- He looked at you in surprise, yet pleased.

- “You see, I forgot to buy white paint... A shame, really. It seems I must come here again. How about tomorrow? We could get those almond croissants from that bakery across the street. Maybe have dinner, too, I don’t know.”

- You walked towards the door, rushing every word on your way out, as you were shocked at your own sudden boldness. He grinned from ear to ear as he listened to you blurt out your ideas, which sounded absolutely heavenly to him.

- He stopped you in your tracks and grabbed your hand. “You know, you could probably lure me anywhere with these croissants. And dinner sounds lovely. I could tell you about some painting workshops I offer, what about that? Rest assured that I will drag it out as long as I can.” You two laughed. You two knew.

        “I’m counting on it, Taehyung.”

         “I’ll see you tomorrow then, lovely.”

[becomingthevlillainsfamily]

Yandere x Darling

I remember asking my mother to enroll me in a self-defense class, but my schedule and exams didn’t allow me to, and so I gladly refused to go along with my plans, maybe I should have silently accepted my dear mother’s favor, so I wouldn’t have been this afraid, currently.

Stalking is better off romanticized in books, reality stands for calling the police immediately, and that’s what I would have done, if this stupid phone had budged off the ‘no signal’ sign, or maybe I should have just hidden somewhere. But neither the weather, nor my mind were working in my favor, and luck and fate were the reason I was currently fidgeting right now in front of my stalker, so I felt no need to curse them out, not right now when I was going through a life and death situation.

“Hello” I muttered, trying to keep him busy, as my brain muddled out of helplessness, and started imagining different kind of scenarios, out of which eighty percent led to death.

A sense numbing lightning struck somewhere far away, nearly blowing off my ears, I hated thunder and this situation would probably be added in my list if I somehow got alive out of here. “Were you the one who sent me the roses?” I muttered, trying to sound courageous, “They were beautiful-very beautiful” ‘If only he was a bit sane’.

“Is that why you arranged them in the trash can” his voice seemed to be drenched with honey, but the contents not so. I could barely outline his silhouette, and would have probably not even known of his presence if not for his spine chilling gaze.

‘If only he was a bit sane’ the same thought processed in my mind again ‘Stupid, if he was sane, he would have never broken in my house, and I would have probably not been in this situation’.

“Uh…no…it’s” how to mess up a situation in 101 ways, stalking encounters usually led to death, and so being calm right now, felt more difficult, than completing your homework while the teacher was collecting it. “You don’t love me” ‘Of course I don’t’ I wanted to shout at him, but his smoky voice suggested something entirely different.

In response to the slow, deliberate steps towards me I retreated back, “I love you…I do…I really do” I shouted, my voice shaking, I could repeat the words a thousand times, if it meant getting alive out of here, the stress, and adrenaline coursing through me, made my head throb, the chronic head pain getting worse, as he closened the distance between us, “Please…don’t kill me” my heart pounded in my ears and in my ribs, so badly that I wouldn’t be surprised if it forced it’s way out right through my flesh, maybe that would be a better death, as fear of death turned into hopelessness, I fisted my clammy hands together, and started bawling out, ‘I might as well cry my heart out, if I am going to die’.

The terribly close proximity between us made me hiccup, “Please don’t kill me” I shouted, wiping my eyes with the coarse fabric of my worn out sweater I adored, a warm hand slowly touched my head, resting on top of it, the strange action making me dumbfounded, “Don’t cry” the man muttered, pulling me into a hug, “Otherwise I will kidnap you”.

‘So should I be scared right now?”