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jjunieworld · 6 months

Note

okay but an equally angsty idea for a pt 2 for a bed in your shape

it’s been awhile and kai’s relationship didn’t work out.

he regrets losing his best friend and realizes maybe there was feelings there, him and reader run into one another somewhere, he starts reminiscing and asks if reader ever thinks about their special place and reader hits him with

“it’s just a field”

a life in your eyes ⋆ 𓈒 ✧ 🎑 ˊ𓂃

part two to a bed in your shape — requested by anon, enjoy! ♡

pairing: huening kai x afab!reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff-ish (kinda if you squint), childhood bestfriends to strangers to lovers, slice of life, blonde!kai, kai is an asshole at some point, mentions of taehyun x reader, references to strawberry blond by mitski

synopsis: it’s been almost two years since your childhood bestfriend kai left you in your sacred shared field alone and your friendship ended. now the girl your friendship ended over is out of the picture and you saw him again for the first time since that field. try as you must, you just can’t stop the undeniable pull you’ve always felt towards each other.

warnings: drinking/alcohol, reader wears a dress at one point, unprotected sex (wrap it!!), somewhat public sex? (there’s nobody around), mostly soft-ish sex, petnames (baby), creampie, oral (f. rec), some praise

word count: 7k┊part one┊masterlist

author's note: anon your brain is so big and i love you ♡ i literally took this and ran with it so i hope you enjoy!! the context of this is kinda off, so make sure you read part one to understand all of it! this was fun to write, i haven’t wrote a super angsty fic in a while so i hope you all enjoy! all feedback and reblogs are welcome ♡

tears fell from your eyes as you followed the gravel road home, blurring your vision. the sky outside was darkening; the once vibrant bright blue turning into wisps of pink and orange against a dark backdrop. you tried hard not to let yourself break into pieces, but it was inevitable. it felt like you had just lost everything all at once and now you sat alone, empty.

you held the picnic basket limply in your arms. you guessed it was a good thing you had it with you. the walk back to your childhood home wasn’t a particularly long one, maybe around ten minutes, but now it felt like an eternity. you shivered as the passing cool wind flowed over your skin. you wished this day never even happened. wished that you would’ve just smiled when kai told you he was going to bring his new girlfriend to the field that was sacred to you. wished that you never had feelings for him to begin with.

the gravel road branched out onto one of the empty main roads of your town. you followed the white lines, your head turning from side to side as the day turned into night. you still couldn’t believe that kai would leave you there all alone. couldn’t believe that he would pick some girl who he only knew for a few months over you—his childhood bestfriend. that thought only seemed to break your heart more.

kai fucked up. he realized that as soon as he peeled away from the field, knew that once he saw your heartbroken face he had passed the point of no return. but his anger and his pride had blinded him. ‘some girl?’ she was his girlfriend, not ‘some girl.’

“fuck!” kai shouted, coming to a dead stop just before the main road. his hand hit his steering wheel, hard. kai debated on whether or not he should go back to you. put aside his pride and open up his eyes to see your feelings right in front of him. it was just a field, kai honestly couldn’t see what the big deal about it was. so what if he brought his girlfriend there?

after a long moment of consideration—and it was a very, very long moment indeed—he decided to drive back to the field. the sky was getting darker by the minute and he couldn’t just leave you to walk home alone in the dark. he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something were to happen to you and it would’ve been all his fault.

kai turned the car around sharply and sped back down the gravel road and back to the field. he jumped out the car, searching for your figure amongst the grass but saw nothing. kai’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and guilt sunk into him deep. you were gone. you were gone and nothing between the two of you will ever be the same ever again.

you wouldn’t lie and say that you never thought about kai. you did. it's been almost two years and you still think about him everyday. he was your best friend, after all. you saw him in everything; the beautiful sunsets, the morning dew on the blades of grass, the freshly baked goods and the deliciously made sandwiches. you couldn’t escape him.

it didn’t help that all of your friends were also his. you constantly heard about him, even if your friends tried to not talk about him around you after noticing how separate you and kai were from each other. you guess if came with its pros as well as its cons. without your mutual friends, you never would’ve known that kai had broken up with his girlfriend. the very same girlfriend your friendship ended over.

from what you’ve heard from your friends, the breakup was disastrous. in fact, their whole relationship was seemingly disastrous from the very beginning. “are you sure you want to hear about this?” your friend, beomgyu, asked you seriously. “i know the two of you don’t really hang around each other anymore…”

you nodded, you had to know what happened for your own peace of mind. you had to know what everything ended over. beomgyu sighed, but told you anyway, “apparently she was one of the paranoid types—you know, the ones who always think you're cheating when you step out to go to the store or something? from the beginning she was really insecure that kai was seeing someone else, even though that wasn’t true.”

your brows raised. kai had never spoken about any of that when the two of you were still friends. “yet they lasted almost two years?” you questioned. beomgyu scoffed slightly and shook his head as he thought about it. “i know, that’s the thing. he was trying to break it off with her from the very beginning but she would always find some way to tie herself around him. then, he found her in bed with her best friend’s brother!” beomgyu exclaimed, pointing a finger down onto the table as he spoke in conjunction with his words.

a small gasp escaped you as your eyes widened. “so she was projecting?” you asked though you already knew the answer. beomgyu nodded as he sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. you shook your head as your phone went off. you briefly checked it and looked back up at beomgyu, “of course she was… i gotta go gyu, i’m meeting with taehyun. you still coming to yeonjun’s party next weekend?”

beomgyu stood with you as you grabbed your things. “you know i’ll be there! bye y/nie, tell taehyun i said hi!” you smiled at him as he pulled you into a hug, telling him goodbye in return. you rushed out the café and to where taehyun was outside waiting for you with a smile.

you didn’t get to take two steps towards him before your arm was being grabbed at. spinning in the direction, you furrowed your brows in question. what you weren’t expecting was to come face to face with kai after almost two years. “y/nie…” kai breathed.

glancing over to taehyun, he wore a look of confusion on his face that probably mirrored yours. you looked back to kai with an eyebrow raised. how dare he address you like you were still best friends? “kai,” you responded curtly. kai flinched ever so slightly, like he didn’t realize that you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

“h-how are you?” he then asked. you loathed looking at him. loathed how your eyes took in every detail of him and memorized it until all you saw when they closed was what he looked like. loathed how you noticed that even after almost two years his hair still turned golden in the sunlight. you hated him. “fine. look, not to cut our conversation short but i have to go,” you spoke fastly, wanting the conversation to end as quickly as possible.

but most importantly, you loathed how as soon as you laid your eyes on him all your feelings for him came rushing back like a tsunami. you hated how you still loved him, even though now you were with someone else. you jogged up to taehyun and pressed a kiss to his lips. “let’s go,” you murmured, willing yourself not to look back at kai as you moved to get into taehyun’s car.

it didn’t surprise you when you and taehyun didn’t last. you couldn’t help but feel bad about it because you knew it was your fault. you started to become absent in your relationship, too busy noticing kai. that’s all you seemed to do ever since you first saw him again. all you could see was how he avoided you every chance he got. it’s been months and your head has once again been clouded by him.

your being itched to go back to the field, but you refused the call. it wasn’t your field anymore—it wasn’t anything to you anymore. the once painterly hills wouldn’t afflict the same calmness in you as it once did. not without kai. you knew it deep in your heart.

thankfully, you and taehyun ended on good terms. “i just feel like you’re distracted, y/n. like your heart isn’t in it. your mind seems elsewhere and until you bring yourself back to earth, i think we should break things off for the both of us,” he had told you. you weren’t even sad, you were relieved, and that caused guilt to eat away at you.

now you were at a party being held for your friend soobin, completely unaware that kai would also be there since he’s soobin’s friend too. when you walked into the house, your eyes had immediately connected and you quickly looked away as you ducked to some corner. “shit…” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed a drink. how could you forget? they were his friends before they were yours after all.

you downed your shot and walked over to soobin to tell him happy birthday, avoiding kai who stood a couple steps away from him. soobin pulled you into a hug as he thanked you with a big smile. the party was already in full swing when you arrived and a lot of people were already tipsy. you grabbed another drink to nurse through the night as you found an empty spot on the couch to sit on.

the cake was brought out about an hour later and everyone gathered around soobin to sing to him and watch him blow out his candles. through the crowd your eyes lingered on kai and the way the smile on his lips never disappeared as he watched his friends celebrate. you took another sip of your cup—which was now almost empty—as you made your way back to the couch, deciding to skip out on the cake.

a laugh slipped from your lips as you watched your drunk friends sloppily cut the cake and hand it out to people. they were barely able to stand on their own two feet, let alone handle sharp knives. not that you were faring better yourself. your eyes were getting more and more bleary with each sip you took and it made you wonder just how strong the drinks were.

you felt the couch dip next to you. blinking slowly, you turned to see who the culprit was and your eyes widened after a moment of processing who was next to you. kai gave you a lazy smile, very clearly drunk. “hi y/nie!” he smiled. before you could reply, he added, “why aren’t we friends anymore? i still don’t understand it no matter how hard i try. i just know that i made you sad.”

kai’s face turned solemn and he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers like he used to do when you were kids. when you were upset as kids, kai would intertwine your hands with his and let you rest your head on his shoulder. he would then tell you that everything would be okay because one day you would grow up and become adults and nothing would be able to stop you.

as much as you wanted to move away from him, you weren’t in your right mind to think clearly. “why don’t you ask your girlfriend?” you spoke, sharpness edging its way into your words. you knew that they had broken up, but you still wanted to see his reaction. kai just laughed, “i would if we were still together! haven’t been for months. you don’t have to worry about her anymore. it can just be me and you again like it always should’ve been!”

you took your hands from his, ignoring how cold your hands felt without the warmth of kai’s. “it can’t just be ‘just me and you’ again kai. you can’t just ignore me for two years and then come back because you have no one to pine over you anymore.” kai furrowed his eyebrows, “it’s not like that, y/nie.” you shook your head in return, “it is.”

“it isn’t,” kai stated firmly, or as firmly as he could while drunk and with slurred speech. “you don’t know how much i missed you these past two years.” you scoffed at him unbelievingly. missed you? it sure didn’t feel like it when he was avoiding you at every possible turn. “you missed my company, not me,” you shot back.

“i. missed. you,” kai said, separating each word. he moved to look into your eyes to ensure you got his message clearly. “did you miss me?” he asked—more slurred, as he took another larger sip from his cup. you rolled your eyes at him. “don’t ask me stupid questions,” you replied. kai smiled widely at you from the brim of his cup.

you took the cup from him and sat it on the end table near you. he really didn’t need to be drinking anymore. “you’re way too drunk. who’s taking you home?” you asked as you turned back to him. you hated how you still cared about his wellbeing after he clearly showed you he didn’t care about yours. kai slumped back onto the couch in your direction and stared openly at you. “nobody, i drove here by myself.”

sighing deeply as you ran a hand down your face, you shook your head at him. “you are so stupid,” you muttered loud enough for him to hear. kai chuckled at you, the smile lingering on his face after. you turned to him, “you’re walking home, i hope you know that.”

“as long as you walk with me,” kai replied without missing a beat. you rolled your eyes at his insistence. you rolled them once more when you told him you would. “i can’t in good conscience let you walk home alone like this. if i’m walking with you, you better say your goodbyes now.”

kai wobbly got to his feet at your words and the two of you separately went around the room saying goodbye to your friends. you were now helping him down the steps of the porch, his tall body practically completely over your shoulders. “and then step—yeah, you got it,” you said as he safely got down. he was lucky you weren’t as drunk as he was.

as the two of you walked down the road that led in the direction of his house, kai was obviously eager to strike up conversation. “so you did miss me?” he smirked over at you, his shoulder nudging slightly into yours more from the fact that he couldn’t walk straight. “i missed my best friend. you were my best friend,” you deadpanned. “were?” he repeated back to you. you stopped and looked at him, completely serious. “were,” you replied and continued walking.

“i’m sorry for hurting you y/nie,” kai spoke softly. you chose to ignore him and kept at your pace. he was two years too late. your heart has already broken and been put back together. and even then, the cracks still shown.

after a moment, kai suddenly asked, “do you ever think about our special place? our field? do you still go there?” it took everything in you not to scoff and explode in anger at him. now he wants to acknowledge how special the field was? “i think about it all the time,” you replied somewhat coldly. “and i went there twice since i last saw you there.”

“you did?” he turned to you and asked. there was a gleam in his eyes. you nodded, “taehyun and i went together when we were first dating. it really is ‘quiet but meaningful’ and ‘absolutely perfect’, you were right.” just as quickly as you saw the gleam in his eyes it left at the mention of his friend. “you took taehyun there?” kai asked. he couldn’t hide the hurt in his voice with how drunk he was. it gave you little pleasure to hear it.

you looked him dead in the eyes as you spoke your next words. you wanted him to see the expression on his face when you tossed his own words back at him. wanted to see the hurt in his eyes like he saw the hurt in yours. “what’s the issue? it’s just a field,” you voice was quiet as you watched his face fall and his eyebrow furrow slightly. his sad expression wasn’t as satisfying as you expected it to be. if anything, it just made you feel shittier.

the two of you reached kai’s house in silence. it wasn’t his childhood home you knew so well, but it was on the same street as it. you only knew where he lived because taehyun had to drop something off to him while he was with you.

you helped him inside and to his bedroom. you turned your back to him when he started to change into pajamas. “so…” kai started, finally breaking the silence. you heard the rustling of clothes behind you. “you and taehyun then…” he trailed. you inhaled deeply. “not anymore,” you exhaled, leaving it that. “oh,” kai said quietly.

you heard the bed creak and heard kai say that you could turn around. you did as told and put a hand on your hip. he was now in his bed halfway under the covers as he looked at you. you gave him a nod before turning to exit. “you can’t leave. it’s dark outside and you’re drunk. you’ll have to walk home,” kai rushed.

“it wouldn’t be the first time i walked home alone,” the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. this is why you didn’t like to drink as much, your filter completely disappeared. “i wasn’t there then, so let me be there now. stay with me,” kai stated as he extended a hand towards you. you shook your head at him, “whatever. fine, but i’ll sleep on the couch.”

a small smile made its way onto kai’s mouth. “don’t be ridiculous, this wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed,” he laughed a little. you shook your head again, flashes of his words rang through your mind. “don’t be ridiculous, i could never see them that way.” you felt a pang in your chest.

“it’s fine, really. besides, my clothes smell like alcohol.” you couldn’t let yourself get into that bed with him. if you did, you knew you would forgive him instantly, you were already on your way to it just from being near him for so long. you don’t know how long you could take his sulky expressions. it was his fault you two were in the position you were in, so why did you feel so bad about it?

kai pointed towards his dresser and your eyes followed in the direction of it. “take them off and wear some of mine,” he insisted. you sighed deeply. he wasn’t going to let this go. “i’ll look away,” kai added. you shook your head once again as you made your way towards his dresser and opened it. grabbing one of his shirts and one of his sweatpants, you sat them on the edge of the bed and shrugged out of your clothes.

all you couldn’t think about as you put his clothes on was how screwed you were. you were wearing his clothes, enveloped in his scent, and you were screwed. “done?” kai asked and you replied with a measly, “yeah.” he patted the bed and you shut the lights off before climbing in it.

you made sure to put some space between the two of you as you laid next to him in the darkness. you still saw the outline of his figure and felt his heavy gaze on you. “i’m sorry for letting someone come between us,” kai apologized, his speech still slurring. “i regretted it everyday.” you didn’t want to start an argument, so all you said was, “let’s not do this right now.”

“i missed you so much y/nie. i didn’t know what to do without you,” kai continued. you looked at his outline. “go to sleep, kai,” is all you said. you saw him shake his head at you. you tried your hardest to keep your mouth shut.

missed you? didn’t know what to do without you? that meant nothing coming from him and it would continue to mean nothing until he put his money where his mouth was. he could spew all this drunken gibberish all he wanted, but you didn’t believe a word—refused to believe a word until he said it back to you sober.

“i love you,” kai suddenly slurred, knocking you completely out of your thoughts. you stammered hard over your words. “i love you, love you,” he then clarified. heat rose in your face and you knew that if you were to feel your cheeks that they would be hot to the touch. “you don’t know what you’re saying, kai,” you said slowly after gathering yourself.

you didn’t want drunken confessions if what he was saying was real and not from his delirious state. you wanted romantic, dramatic. you want a confession that would steal your breath away and promise a love everlasting. you didn’t want this, no matter how much your heart raced at its potential.

“i do, y/n,” he said barely above a whisper, words suddenly clear. he was so close to you now that you felt his breath on your cheek. his lips just barely missed brushing against yours and you desperately wanted to close the gap. instead you pulled away from him, putting more distance between the two of you.

you shook your head at him, “go to sleep.” with that, you turned away from him and shut your eyes tightly. he didn’t get to do this. he didn’t get to suddenly waltz into your life like nothing happened and spit drunk love confessions. you refused. pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, you forced sleep to overtake you.

your head was killing you when you woke up and you barely remembered what happened last night. you certainly weren’t expecting to be tucked into someone’s chest with their arms wrapped tightly around you. slowly, you looked around the room as your memories came back to you one by one. you stilled as you realized just whose arms you were in and flicked your gaze up to kai’s face.

his eyes were on the ceiling and you could see the confusion in his face as you watched the gears in his brain turn and turn to figure out how he got here. he must not remember a single thing. vaguely, you could feel him absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair like he would do when you were kids.

it was then that reality slapped you across the face and you realized how this must’ve looked to him. you were in his bed and in his clothes—things that haven't happened in years—after a night getting drunk at a party. he must think that the two of you had sex.

gathering up all the courage you could muster, you swallowed thickly. “kai…” you trailed off quietly. his eyes snapped to yours, widening slightly. the awkward tension in the air was unbearable. you slowly began to sit up and he unwrapped his arms from around you.

“we didn’t have sex… if that’s what you’re wondering,” you muttered awkwardly. “you were really drunk and i walked you home. you insisted that i change my clothes and stay with you. then we went to sleep.” you rubbed at your temples a little, trying to relieve yourself a little of your headache.

you stood up onto your knees, the blanket falling off of you, “i should get going…” kai’s eyes immediately trailed down your body and at the fact that you were wearing his clothes. his eyes then snapped back up to yours as you moved towards the edge of the bed. he grabbed your wrist lightly, causing you to look back at him. “stay,” kai said softly.

excuses were on your tongue but kai spoke again before you could. “at least until your headache goes away. i’ll walk you back to your car,” he added. your gaze flicked down to his hand at your wrist and back to him. slowly, you started to nod without realizing it, “okay.” kai gave you a small, shy smile as you sat back onto your knees.

he let go of your wrist and you both sat there for a moment in silence as you looked at anything but each other. you cleared your throat, “i’m guessing you don’t remember anything?” kai laughed sheepishly and shook his head a little. “not a thing,” he replied.

this was so awkward. you couldn’t tell him of last night’s events. of how he basically clung to you and told you he missed you and loved you. but at the same time, you didn’t know how long you could keep it inside of you.

“i’d rather not know if i did something embarrassing,” kai said as he climbed off the bed and to his feet. you echoed his actions. kai turned to you, “come on, let’s get you some medicine.” you nodded as you followed him. you looked outside to try and see what time it might be, but could only tell it was somewhere between morning and afternoon with the daylight.

kai took you to his bathroom and dug in the medicine cabinet for ibuprofen. once he acquired it, he shook some out into your open palm and got some for himself. you then followed him to his kitchen where he got the both of you some water.

everything felt so casual between the two of you when it wasn’t. there was too much between you. so many unspoken words and feelings ready to be brought to the light. “are you hungry?” kai asked you, already turning to dig for something to make. you swallowed thickly, words stuck in your throat. finally, you managed, “kai, we have to talk…”

he kept his back to you as he made ramen, “i know we do, but does it have to be now?” you sighed and sternly said, “kai.” he turned back to face you. “eat first. please, y/n,” his voice was quiet and almost desperate, like once you left his house he’d never see you again. and maybe he wouldn’t. maybe the two of you would go back to avoiding each other’s existence while at the same time acknowledging it— forever skirting around each other.

“fine,” you sighed as you slumped into the dining room chair. after a few moments, he sat a bowl in front of you and sat opposite of you. the two of you ate in quiet, but surprisingly comfortable silence. once you ensured he was finished, you looked at him expectantly.

kai swept the messy blonde hair out of his face before settling his gaze on you. “where do you wanna start?” he asked you. you thought about it for a moment. you knew you both should probably start from the beginning, go all the way back to the day he left you at the field, but you needed to know how much he knew of last night. “do you remember anything from last night?” you asked him.

“bits and pieces,” kai replied. “i remember walking home with you, but not anything that we may have talked about. everything from there is really fuzzy—god, what was in those drinks?” you chuckled a little and a smile formed on kai’s face. “why, did i say something weird?” he asked jokingly.

the lingering smile on your face faltered and you looked down to your noodles as you decided to take a bite of them instead of answering. “let’s start back at the field when you stormed off,” you spoke after eating. “you left me alone there. don’t get me wrong, i can understand why you were angry, but you left me alone there, kai. you refused to see my side of things.”

“i know, and nothing will change what i did,” kai said, his eyes falling to the table. “i realized too late that i fucked up. when i went back to the field you were already gone.” your heart pounded in your chest. he went back to the field?

“i shouldn’t have let my emotions cloud my judgement. that field was our sacred place, you were right. i should've seen that it wasn’t ‘just a field’ and i should’ve seen the hurt in your eyes earlier when i stripped it of its specialness,” kai looked up to you and searched your eyes.

you held steadfast onto your emotions. you wanted everything laid out onto the table, everything swept out from under the rugs. “was it worth losing me? cause i can tell you one thing,” you looked him directly in the eyes, “it wasn’t worth losing you. losing your best friend and the person you love most in this world in one swift motion over a girlfriend wasn’t worth it.”

kai’s eyebrows raised in shock at your words and he opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “don’t act like you didn’t know about my feelings for you. maybe you didn’t know then, but there’s no way you don’t know now,” you said, tucking your hands under the table to hide their slight shaking. you continued, “i have to know. was she worth it?”

“no,” kai said immediately. that wasn’t enough for you. “why?” you asked him. he gave you a nonchalant shrug, like it was the most obvious and plain information in the world, “she wasn’t you. she never was.” your mouth went dry and your words died in your throat. you knew that the potential of him loving you more than just as a childhood best friend was raised due to his drunken confession, but to hear him say it so straightforward while sober fully set ablaze the feelings for him you tried so desperately to hide away.

kai continued, “she wasn’t worth losing you, not in a million years. i knew that as i stupidly drove off, when i stayed with her for almost two years and all we ever did was fight over you, and i knew that as soon as i saw you again at that café. she wasn’t you.” you inhaled deeply as the two of you stared at each other for a moment, trying to ground yourself in some way.

you closed your eyes briefly. so much has changed in such little time it overwhelmed you. “what about when you told yeonjun you could never see me that way? at your birthday party?” kai’s brows furrowed as he tried to remember what you were talking about. you saw the gears turn until it finally clicked in his head. “we weren’t talking about you, y/nie… we were talking about the girl he was trying to set me up with. i told yeonjun i wasn’t interested if it wasn’t you and he told me that i needed to confess,” kai replied.

“and now that i’m right here in front of you?” you asked softly, quietly, as if you were scared of his answer. the corner of kai’s mouth tilted up, “would you forgive me if i don’t let you go?” you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face and the butterflies in your chest. he was always the cliché. “always,” you responded, face breaking out into a small laugh.

you then smirked at him slightly, “you owe me a walk.” the both of you stood to put the dishes in the sink. once you were done, kai trapped you against the counter. he leaned in close to you, “and another picnic.”

humming, you placed a finger to his lips and pushed his face away. kai smiled and took a step back to let you free. “don’t push your luck,” you chuckled.

somehow on the walk back to both you and kai’s cars, he convinced you to let him take you to your field after you both went home and got cleaned up. “come on, y/nie! i told you i owed you another picnic! let me pick you up,” he whined slightly as he blocked your car door.

you rolled your eyes but agreed anyway. “good! i’ll see you in an hour!” kai quickly pecked your lips before running off laughing like a maniac towards his own car. “your pushing your luck!” you called after him, shaking your head as you got into your car.

so here the two of you were, sitting on the same picnic blanket the two of you would always use in the middle of your sacred field. you both didn’t have time to make anything, so you stopped at the store and grabbed whatever your hearts desired from the shelf. your picks were spread out on the blanket around you.

the sun was starting to set as it turned the sky purple. you took the last bite out of the sandwich you picked out as you looked up at the clouds. “that one looks like a dinosaur!” you exclaimed, pointing to the cloud. kai scooted closer to you until his chest was just about pressed to your back and your cheeks were touching. he followed your finger upwards, “that’s clearly a flower.”

you turned to look at him, a slight pout on your lips in protest. “like you are,” kai smiled and you playfully rolled your eyes. “lame,” you dramatically drawled out. kai laughed, “oh yeah?” you nodded with a smile, squealing a little when his lips suddenly pressed to yours.

pulling away, you looked at him with wide eyes, “at least take me out to dinner first!” kai laughed more as he pulled you onto his lap while kissing you again. the sundress you wore rode up a little as his hands trailed to your hips. the kiss between the two of you was getting real heated real quick and you broke away to give your burning lungs oxygen.

you and kai’s foreheads were pressed together as you breathed heavily. wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him again deeply. you grinded down onto him as the sudden need for friction clouded you and kai groaned. his hands on your hips tightened.

kai was then laying down onto his back on the picnic blanket, pulling you down with him with your kiss. he broke away, breathless, and looked in your eyes. his hands were on your ass now and he gently nudged you forward. “sit,” he breathed. your eyes widened as his hands moved towards your thighs that were around his torso. “please,” kai added.

his breathless desperate plea could’ve sent you over the edge alone. you sat up, pressing your hands to his chest as you moved to take off your underwear. you discarded it somewhere beside the two of you as you moved up his body holding up your dress. once you got around kai’s neck, you stopped to look down at him. his eyes were too busy focusing on your now exposed pussy.

“fuck, baby… you’re so wet for me already?” he asked as he grabbed your thighs and moved you more towards his mouth. you didn’t get the chance to reply before his lips was sucking on your clit. you let out a loud gasp as you doubled over, back arching as you grasped the picnic blanket. “that’s it, let me hear you. be as loud as you want,” kai said as he briefly pulled away.

he made quick work of you with his tongue. you would’ve thought that he was a starved man and this was his first meal in months with the way he ate you out. your legs trembled as loud mewls escaped your lips. kai held you steady, his fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs, as you let out a breathy moan. “k-kai—“ you started to warn him but him swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit halted you in your tracks.

you leaned back as you felt yourself cum on his mouth. you tried your hardest not to squeeze your thighs together and instead grabbed at the fabric at kai’s shoulders. breathy moans spilled from your mouth and kai’s tongue helped you through your orgasm. once you were finished, kai licked a strip up your pussy with his tongue, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

breathing heavily and with weak knees you moved down so that kai could sit up. his whole lower jaw was wet with your release, causing it to shine in the setting sunlight. you kissed him hungrily and your hands reached down to unbuckle the belt he was wearing. kai laughed against your lips at your eagerness, “you want my cock that bad?”

kai’s voice was low with an edge of playfulness in it that made you want him to strip you completely naked and have his way with you. his breath fanned across your ear and all you could do was nod as you pulled the belt from the loops around his jeans and threw it to the side.

you could feel just how big he was from the hardness trying to escape his jeans. and you weren’t wrong when kai got up to pull down his jeans and boxers. your eyes widened slightly, but you weren’t one to dismiss a challenge.

you had practically climbed kai like a tree, his soft laughs filling your ears as you climbed on top of him. you needed him, desperately. especially in the past two years with little to no contact at all with him. you were in the middle of lining the tip of kai’s cock with your entrance, fully ready to sink completely down onto it with the help of the white liquid still dripping out of you, when kai grabbed your hips to stop you.

“don’t rush,” he said. you could tell he was fighting the urge to not fuck into you with how strained his voice sounded. “go down slowly,” he added. you did as he told you to do and sunk down on him inch by inch. the stretch took you by surprise and you had to grab kai’s shoulders for support.

after a moment of you adjusting to him—more you preparing yourself as you already felt the tip of him pressing into your sweet spot—you gave an experimental roll of your hips. it was like you were suddenly blinded by pure bliss and you were sure you were hurting kai with how hard your nails were digging into his shoulders. “mmm, baby. you feel so good. keep going,” kai said with his eyes screwed shut tightly.

you moved from your knees to your feet and readjusted kai’s cock inside you before connecting eyes with him. you rolled your hips towards him as you bounced up and down on his hard cock. kai’s hands were on your hips, helping you move them with the rhythm you created. his whimpers sent fire to the pit of your belly as you continued to ride him.

kai brought his lips down onto yours sloppily and you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer. your moans and whimpers intertwined with each other as you both inched closer and closer to your climax. the noises filling this field from the two of you was downright sinful, but you couldn’t help but become even more turned on from the sound of you bouncing on his cock.

you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the finish line and no doubt kai could feel it from how much you were clenching around him. kai’s head fell to the crook of your neck, his nose leaving goosebumps on your skin as his mouth found your ear. “don’t stop… please… please keep going…” he trailed breathlessly. “i want you to cum for me.”

it didn’t take much longer for you to fall into his chest as you dripped warm cum down his cock. that must’ve finally broke kai as he pulled you down onto his chest as he laid back and positioned your hips so he could fuck up into you. “j-just a little longer, baby,” kai cooed at your whimpers. the speed was so rapid it left you trembling again and had tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

you buried your face in kai’s chest, thankful it muffled your loud moans of pleasure, as you listened to your skin slap against his lewdly. you felt kai start to twitch inside you and suddenly his warm cum was filling you up to the brim, dripping out of you from around his big thick cock. you wanted to help him with his high no matter how sensitive you were, so you pushed up from his chest and started rocking your hips as best as you could.

when you couldn’t take anymore—and when kai’s hands were on your hips forcing you to stop—you fell back down onto his chest. you look up at him and ran your hands through his golden hair to get it off his forehead. kai’s eyes were closed and there was a ghost of a smile on his face like he was in heaven.

after a moment of catching your breath and looking up at the sky, you weakly commented, “the sunset is so pretty.” kai’s chest vibrated as he laughed. “not as pretty as you,” he smoothly replied. you smiled as you rolled your eyes, “that was so corny.”

you sat up and pulled yourself off of him, missing how much he filled you up. kai grabbed some of the napkins you had gotten from the store and began cleaning you up. there was a goofy smile playing on his lips. you sighed playfully and looked down at him. “what?” you asked, fully expecting him to say something cheesy.

kai’s laugh filled your ears, “now this place is really sacred and special.” you jaw dropped at him, which only made him laugh harder. “kai!” you exclaimed, slapping his shoulder as heat rose in your cheeks.

taglist: @lillynval @hearts4huening @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047

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kasiers · 1 month

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a/n: heavily inspired by a business proposal

gojo satoru would have never imagined he'd be proposing to you this way.

originally, he had everything planned out in his head. he'd take you to his favorite spot where he'd often run away to as a kid.

he'd have a blanket laid out on the ground and a picnic basket full of your favorite foods, a bouquet full of flowers too with the ones he knows you love.

although you kinda wouldn't expect it because he often takes you to the nicest restaurants, telling you to get ready and dress formally.

so of course, it's only natural for you to think he'd be taking you to a fancy restaurant again for your date nights.

unfortunately for satoru, you had found the ring he was planning to propose with. hidden in the compartment of his car while you were looking for hand sanitizer.

he did try to stop you, because in the last second he remembered he hid it there for now before asking suguru to hide it for him.

"satoru, what's this?" you gasped, eyes wide as you pulled the ring box from the glove compartment.

his eyes widened in panic as he quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road. "wait don't open it yet!" he exclaimed, but it was too late.

you looked at him, confusion and shock swirling in your eyes. "is this..."

he sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he realized there was no going back now. he took the ring from your hands and got out of the car. he made his way to your side and opened the door, then he knelt down right there on the side of the road.

his eyes never left yours. “this isn’t how i planned it,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. “i wanted it to be perfect, to take you to a special place and make it memorable. but i guess this is fine too, in its own way.”

he looked up at you, his usual playful demeanor replaced by sincerity. “i love you more than anything, and i want to spend the rest of my life with you. will you marry me?”

tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, a radiant smile spreading across your face. “yes, satoru!! yes, of course, i'll marry you!"

he slipped the ring onto your finger, standing up to pull you into a tight embrace. you both laughed, the awkwardness of the moment giving way to pure joy.

"guess we’ll have to save the picnic for another day,” he whispered into your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

#— kasiers #fluff #x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 27 days

Note

omggg imagine marcus acacius teaching a reader, his wife how to ride a horse🥺❤️ and are on a horseback ride and having their spicy moments in the grass 🤤

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Summary: see ask above

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage), p in v, Oral F and breeding

A/n: simple and sweet i hope you like it

Marcus had ridden you both out to a secluded field, far from the estate's bustling life. The sky stretched endlessly above, a deep cerulean canvas dotted with lazy clouds, and the sun bathed the rolling green hills in a golden glow. The rhythmic thud of the horse’s hooves on the soft earth was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. You could feel the warmth of Marcus’s body pressed against your back, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he guided the horse with a practiced ease that you couldn't help but admire.

He slowed the horse to a gentle stop near a large oak tree that stood like a sentinel in the middle of the field. Its branches spread wide, casting dappled shadows on the ground, providing a perfect spot for what you assumed was a simple, tranquil picnic. But as Marcus dismounted and offered his hand to help you down, there was a gleam in his eyes that hinted at something more.

You accepted his hand, your feet touching the ground with a lightness that belied the nervous fluttering in your stomach. His touch was warm, and steady, and for a moment, you were reluctant to let go. He seemed to sense your hesitation, his grip lingering just a heartbeat longer before he finally released you.

“I thought we could do more than just eat,” Marcus said, his voice rich and low, carrying the weight of an unspoken promise. He began unpacking a basket that you hadn’t noticed before, revealing an assortment of your favorite foods, but he paused, his gaze lifting to meet yours with that same mischievous glint. “I’m going to teach you to ride properly today.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. “I know how to ride,” you began, but the words felt hollow even as they left your lips.

Marcus chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, stirring something inside you. “Do you now?” he teased, a smirk curling his lips. “Because if I remember correctly, the first time we met, you didn’t seem quite so confident in the saddle.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, the memory still fresh in your mind despite the time that had passed. “That wasn’t my fault,” you shot back, trying to sound indignant, though the embarrassment was evident in your voice. “I was being chased. I didn’t exactly have the luxury of a leisurely ride.”

Marcus’s smirk widened into a full grin, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Ah yes, fleeing from your own wedding. Quite the dramatic entrance, if I recall. You nearly gave those guards heart attacks.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest in a show of defiance. “I had to do something! I wasn’t going to just sit there and let them hand me over like some... some prize to be won.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. “A prize, hmm? Is that how you saw it?”

You huffed, turning your gaze away to avoid the intensity of his stare. “You know what I mean. I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s bride, least of all yours.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted the harshness.

But Marcus didn’t seem offended. If anything, his smile softened, a hint of something warmer flickering in his eyes. “And yet, here we are,” he said quietly, his tone more thoughtful now. “Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, doesn’t it?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. The truth was, you had been terrified that day—terrified of the future, of the unknown, and of the man you had been promised to. But as you looked at Marcus now, the memory of his calm, reassuring presence in that chaotic moment surfaced. He hadn’t been the monster you’d imagined; he had been... kind. Even then, when you were just a terrified girl thrown from a horse, he had treated you with a gentleness that you hadn’t expected.

“You were different from what I imagined,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts.

Marcus tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “And what did you imagine?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I thought you’d be... cold, distant. Like everyone said you were.”

His expression darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. “Everyone says a lot of things,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness. “But you didn’t run from me that day because of what others said, did you?”

You met his gaze, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. There was something raw in his eyes, something that made your chest tighten. “I was scared,” you admitted, the confession slipping out before you could stop it. “Not just of you, but of everything. It all felt like too much. Like I was losing control.”

Marcus’s gaze softened again, the edge in his eyes melting away as he took a step closer. “And now?” he asked, his voice gentle but probing. “Do you still feel that way?”

You swallowed hard, the sincerity in his question catching you off guard. The truth was, things had changed since that day. You had changed. The fear that had once driven you to flee had slowly been replaced by something else—something you weren’t entirely sure how to name yet. But it was there, simmering beneath the surface, growing stronger with every shared glance, every touch, every word.

“No,” you finally said, your voice trembling slightly. “Not like before.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Marcus’s face as if he had been waiting for that answer. “Good,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. The touch was brief, almost fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a warmth that spread from your chest to the tips of your fingers.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten how you practically laughed at me when I fell,” you added, trying to inject some lightness back into the conversation.

Marcus’s grin returned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Laughed? I seem to remember being quite concerned for your well-being.”

“Oh, really?” you shot back, arching an eyebrow. “Because from where I was lying, it looked like you were struggling not to burst out laughing.”

He shrugged, not even bothering to hide his amusement now. “Perhaps I found your determination to ride a horse you clearly had no control over... endearing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Endearing? That’s what you call it?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone playful. “It’s not every day you see someone so fiercely determined to escape their own wedding. And on a horse, they could barely manage, no less. It was... impressive.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “Impressive? I nearly broke my neck!”

“But you didn’t,” Marcus pointed out, his smile widening. “And that, my dear, is the point. You took a risk, you fought for your freedom, and you survived. That’s more than most people can say.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that caught you off guard, and for a moment, the playful banter faded away, replaced by something deeper. Something real.

“Maybe,” you said softly, your eyes locking onto his. “But I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Marcus’s expression softened, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a warmth that made your heartache. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said quietly, his gaze never leaving yours. “And you don’t need anyone to tell you that.”

The air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken words, the tension building once more. But this time, it wasn’t the kind of tension that made you want to run. It was the kind that made you want to stay, to see where this path might lead.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the wind. “I do need someone.”

Marcus's eyes bore into yours, the intensity of the moment making it feel like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. His breath was warm against your lips, his presence overwhelming, and you could feel the steady thrum of your own heart echoing in your chest.

For a moment, it seemed as though time itself had stopped. The air between you crackled with unspoken words and emotions too powerful to name. He was so close, close enough that you could see the storm of emotions swirling in his gaze—desire, longing, something deeper that both thrilled and terrified you. You thought he might kiss you, and a part of you desperately wanted him to.

But then, just as the tension reached its peak, Marcus’s expression softened, the corners of his lips lifting into a small, knowing smile. The intensity in his eyes ebbed, replaced by a gentle warmth that eased the pressure in your chest.

“As much as I’d love to continue this,” he said, his voice husky but laced with that familiar teasing tone, “we should probably eat something before the food gets cold.” He stepped back, breaking the spell, though his hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer, a silent promise that this wasn’t over.

You blinked, trying to refocus as the world around you seemed to slowly come back into view. The wind rustled through the grass, the sunlight filtered through the leaves of the oak tree, and the scent of the picnic spread tickled your nose, reminding you of the meal Marcus had so carefully prepared.

It was a strange contrast—the almost overwhelming intimacy of the moment and the sudden return to something so mundane. But there was a comfort in it too, in the way Marcus shifted gears so effortlessly, guiding you through the ebb and flow of emotions as if he had always known exactly what you needed.

“Right,” you said, your voice a little breathless as you tried to regain your composure. “Food. Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

Marcus chuckled, the sound easing the lingering tension. “I thought you might agree,” he said, turning towards the picnic spread. He motioned for you to join him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you followed.

The blanket was spread out beneath the shade of the oak tree, the basket sitting beside it, filled with an assortment of delicious-looking foods. You marveled at the care Marcus had put into everything—the fresh bread, the ripe fruits, the selection of cheeses, and even a small bottle of your favorite wine. It was a simple meal, but it was perfect in its simplicity, a reflection of the thoughtfulness that had gone into planning this day.

You settled down on the blanket, and Marcus handed you a plate, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a familiar warmth coursing through you. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, passing food back and forth, sharing a quiet conversation that felt surprisingly natural given the charged moment you had just shared.

But even as you ate, there was an undercurrent of anticipation, a sense that this was merely an interlude before something more. Every time your hands touched, every time your eyes met, you could feel the tension building again, like a storm gathering on the horizon.

“So,” Marcus said, breaking the comfortable silence as he poured you a glass of wine, “after we eat, I’m going to teach you to ride properly.” There was that teasing glint in his eye again, the one that made your heart flutter. “No more dramatic escapes, just good, solid horsemanship.”

You laughed, taking the glass from him. “I think I can manage that,” you said, though there was a part of you that still felt nervous at the prospect. Riding had never been your strongest skill, and the memory of that first disastrous attempt still lingered in the back of your mind.

Marcus seemed to sense your hesitation because he reached over and took your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, his tone reassuring. “I’ll be right there with you the whole time. You won’t fall. And even if you do,” he added with a grin, “I’ll catch you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosening a little. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?” you teased, taking a sip of the wine.

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s a gift,” he said lightly, but there was a sincerity beneath his words that you didn’t miss. Marcus had a way of making you feel safe, of grounding you even when the world seemed to spin out of control. It was a quality you had come to admire, though you hadn’t realized just how much until now.

The meal passed in a comfortable blend of laughter and light conversation, the earlier intensity replaced by a sense of camaraderie that felt both new and familiar. And yet, even as you enjoyed the food and the company, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting between you and Marcus, something that had been building ever since that fateful day when you first met.

As the last of the food was cleared away and the wine glasses emptied, Marcus stood, extending a hand to help you up. “Ready for your lesson?” he asked a playful challenge in his voice.

Marcus's smile widened at your response, a mixture of pride and mischief dancing in his eyes as he led you toward the horse. The animal stood patiently, its dark coat gleaming in the afternoon sun, a gentle giant in stark contrast to the wild stallion you had once ridden in a desperate bid for freedom. There was a certain serenity to this horse, a calm that you found reassuring as you approached.

“First things first,” Marcus said, his tone taking on that authoritative edge that both irritated and intrigued you. He came to stand beside the horse, his hands resting on the saddle as he looked up at you. “Before you can ride, you need to understand the horse. It’s not just about controlling it; it’s about working with it.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re not going to give me a lecture, are you?” you teased, though you couldn’t deny the flutter of nerves in your stomach. Riding had never been your forte, and the memory of your last attempt still made your palms sweat.

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. “Not a lecture, just some advice,” he said, his voice softening. He reached out, gently taking your hand and guiding it to the horse’s neck. “Feel that?” he asked, his hand resting over yours, guiding your movements. The warmth of the horse’s skin beneath your palm, the steady rise and fall of its breath—it was strangely soothing.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I do,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” Marcus said, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. “That’s where it all starts. Trust the horse, and it will trust you. The rest will follow.”

His words were simple, but there was a depth to them that resonated with you. Trust. It was something you had always struggled with, something that had been difficult to come by in your life. But standing there, with Marcus’s hand over yours and the horse’s steady presence grounding you, it didn’t seem quite so impossible.

“Now,” Marcus continued, stepping back slightly to give you room, though his hand remained on your waist, a steadying force. “Let’s get you up there.”

With his guidance, you placed your foot in the stirrup and swung your leg over the horse’s back. It was an awkward motion, and you felt a momentary rush of panic as you wobbled, but Marcus was there, his hands steadying you, his voice calm and encouraging.

“Easy,” he murmured, his hands firm on your waist as you settled into the saddle. “You’ve got this.”

You took a deep breath, focusing on the feel of the horse beneath you, the strength of its muscles, the rhythmic motion of its breathing. Slowly, the panic ebbed, replaced by a tentative sense of confidence.

Marcus mounted behind you with an effortless grace that made you a little envious. His arms came around you, his hands gently taking hold of the reins, his body pressing against yours in a way that was both comforting and disarming.

“Now, hold the reins like this,” he instructed, guiding your hands to the proper position. His breath was warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he adjusted your grip. “Not too tight, but firm enough that the horse knows what you want.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the intoxicating closeness of his body against yours. “Like this?” you asked, turning your head slightly to catch his eye.

“Perfect,” Marcus said, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill through you. “Now, give the horse a gentle nudge with your heels.”

You hesitated for a moment, then did as he instructed. The horse responded immediately, moving forward with a smooth, steady gait. You felt a surge of exhilaration as the ground began to pass beneath you, the wind teasing at your hair.

“There you go,” Marcus said, his voice filled with pride. “See? You’re doing it.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a genuine, unguarded smile that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The feeling of control, of freedom, was intoxicating, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Marcus teased his tone light but laced with affection. “We’re just getting started.”

You rolled your eyes, though the gesture was more playful than annoyed. “Oh, please,” you shot back, your confidence growing with each passing moment. “I think I’ve got this under control.”

Marcus chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock skepticism. “Then let’s see how you handle this.”

Before you could respond, Marcus gently urged the horse into a trot, the sudden change in pace catching you off guard. You let out a surprised yelp, your hands tightening on the reins as you tried to adjust to the new rhythm.

“Easy,” Marcus said, his hands guiding yours, his body steadying you as the horse moved beneath you. “Don’t fight it. Just go with the flow.”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax as Marcus had instructed. The horse’s movements were more fluid than you had expected, and as you began to match its rhythm, the initial panic started to fade, replaced by a growing sense of control.

“That’s it,” Marcus murmured, his voice a soothing presence in your ear. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at his words, though you tried to hide it. “I told you I could do it,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though the excitement was evident in your voice.

Marcus laughed, the sound warm and full of affection. “I never doubted you,” he said, his tone sincere. “But it’s nice to see you proving me right.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your bodies moving in sync with the horse’s steady gait. The sun was warm on your skin, the scent of wildflowers filling the air as you rode through the field. There was a peacefulness to the moment, a sense of connection that went beyond words.

“Marcus,” you said after a while, your voice soft as you turned your head slightly to look at him. “Thank you.”

He tilted his head, his eyes warm as he met your gaze. “For what?”

“For this,” you said, gesturing to the scene around you. “For teaching me, for... everything.”

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes softening with affection. “It’s my pleasure,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “You’ve always been stronger than you think, and it’s an honor to help you see that.”

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words, a deep, abiding affection that you hadn’t quite realized was there until now. “You know,” you said, a teasing lilt to your voice, “for a man who was supposed to be this cold, distant lord, you’re actually quite sweet.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a mischievous grin. “Sweet, am I? I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Flattered,” you said, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow. “Definitely flattered.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. “Well, I’m glad to know you think so,” he said, his voice softening. “But don’t get too used to it. I still have to maintain my reputation, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, though there was a smile on your lips. “Of course. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’ve gone soft.”

Marcus’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Perish the thought.”

The two of you rode in comfortable silence for a while longer, the horse’s steady gait lulling you into a sense of peace. But as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the field, Marcus gently pulled the horse to a stop.

“You’ve done well,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “I think you’re ready to ride on your own.”

You looked at him, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your stomach. “Really?”

He nodded, his smile reassuring. “Really. But first...” He reached out, his hands settling on your waist as he effortlessly lifted you off the horse and onto the soft blanket of grass below. The sudden movement caught you off guard, and you let out a surprised laugh as you landed with a soft thud.

“Marcus!” you exclaimed, trying to sound indignant, but the laughter in your voice betrayed you.

He grinned, dismounting and joining you on the blanket, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What?” he asked innocently, though the playful glint in his eyes told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He shrugged, his grin widening as he leaned in closer, his hands finding their way to your waist once more. “Maybe,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “but you seem to like me that way.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat as Marcus’s hands slid up your sides, his touch light but deliberate. The playful atmosphere shifted, the air around you thickening with anticipation as his gaze locked onto yours.

“And besides,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m hungry for more than just food.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sent a thrill through you. There was a heat in his gaze, a hunger that matched the fire burning in your own veins.

Before you could respond, Marcus closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of warmth and desire.

As Marcus's lips moved against yours, the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the heat of his body pressed against yours, the roughness of his hands as they traced the curves of your figure. The slow burn of desire between you was almost unbearable, every touch, every kiss stoking the flames higher, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

His fingers deftly untied the laces of your tunic, not tearing it away, but easing it open, just enough for his lips to find the sensitive skin of your collarbone. He kissed you there, slow and deliberate, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver down your spine. You arched into him, your breath catching as his tongue traced the line of your throat, his mouth trailing down to the hollow at the base of your neck, where he placed a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation sent a ripple of warmth through you, pooling low in your belly as his hands slid beneath the fabric, palms warm against the bare skin of your waist.

You could feel the roughness of the grass beneath you as the blanket shifted, the cool breeze whispering over your exposed skin, but all that registered was the heat of Marcus’s touch, the way his hands moved over you with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his gaze. He shifted, his body pressing you down into the earth, his weight a delicious pressure that grounded you even as his lips and hands drove you to the edge of control.

He moved slowly, almost reverently, his lips brushing over the swell of your breast, his breath hot against your skin. His hands slid lower, pushing up the fabric of your skirt, exposing more of your thighs to the cool night air. But where the breeze should have chilled you, all you felt was the searing heat of Marcus's touch as he explored every inch of you with deliberate care.

You shivered, your fingers tangling in his dark curls as his mouth found the curve of your breast. He took his time, teasing you with slow, open-mouthed kisses, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp, make you writhe beneath him. His hands followed the path his lips had taken, sliding over your ribs, down your sides, until they found the edge of your undergarments.

He paused there, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric, as if savoring the moment, the anticipation. You could feel the tension building between you, the need for more, but Marcus seemed in no hurry. He lifted his head, his gaze locking with yours, and in that moment, the world held its breath. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too—a tenderness that made your heartache, that made the slow burn between you all the more intense.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice rough with restraint, his hands stilling on your hips as if giving you one last chance to pull away.

You nodded, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. Instead, you reached for him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, drawing him down to you for another kiss. This one was different—slower, deeper, a promise of everything you wanted, everything you were willing to give.

He groaned softly against your lips, his hands tightening on your hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a sensual dance that left you dizzy with want. Slowly, achingly slowly, he began to pull your undergarments down, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your thighs, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core.

The fabric slipped away, and you felt the cool air against your bare skin for just a moment before Marcus’s hand was there, his touch warm, almost reverent as he traced the line of your thigh. He moved with agonizing slowness, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh, making you squirm, making you ache with need.

“Marcus,” you breathed, your voice trembling as you clung to him, desperate for more, for the release you knew only he could give.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you, making your skin tingle with anticipation. “Patience, love,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as his hand slid higher, teasing the edge of your desire. “I want to take my time with you.”

His fingers brushed against your center, a light, teasing touch that made you gasp, and made your hips lift off the ground in search of more. But Marcus was in control, his touch maddeningly gentle as he explored you, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles that had you teetering on the edge of sanity.

You were trembling now, your body taut with tension, every nerve ending on fire as he played you like a finely tuned instrument. His thumb found your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for release.

But Marcus wasn’t finished with you yet. He shifted, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the heat of his arousal seeping through the thin fabric of his trousers. The knowledge of how much he wanted you, how much he was holding back, only heightened your own need, making the slow burn of his touch all the more unbearable.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, your body trembling with the force of your desire. “Marcus, please…”

He let out a low growl, his self-control fraying as he pulled back just enough to remove the last barriers between you. The cool air was a shock against your heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the jolt of pleasure that shot through you as Marcus finally, finally, pressed against you, the hard length of him sliding between your thighs, teasing your entrance.

He didn’t move right away, just held you there, his body trembling with the effort of restraint as he looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice rough with emotion, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to maintain control.

“I want you,” you whispered, your fingers digging into his back, your nails biting into his skin as you pulled him closer. “Please, Marcus, I need you…”

That was all it took. With a low, primal sound, Marcus finally gave in, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly pushed inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious stretch that filled you completely, made you gasp, made you clutch at him as if he was the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

He moved slowly at first, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one designed to drive you higher, to make you feel every inch of him as he filled you, stretched you, took you apart piece by piece. You could feel the heat building inside you, a slow burn that threatened to consume you as Marcus moved within you, his body pressing you into the earth, grounding you even as he made you soar.

His hands were everywhere, one sliding down to where your bodies were joined, his thumb finding your clit with a practiced ease that had you crying out, your hips bucking against him as the pleasure built to an unbearable level. The world around you blurred, the only reality the slow, sensual rhythm of Marcus’s body moving against yours, the overwhelming heat of his touch as he drove you higher and higher.

“Marcus,” you gasped, your body trembling as you clung to him, your nails raking down his back as you fought to hold on, to keep from falling apart completely. “I’m going to—”

But before you could finish, the orgasm crashed over you, a wave of pleasure so intense it left you gasping for air, your body clenching around him, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of bliss. Your vision blurred, the world spinning around you as you lost yourself in the sensation, the only anchor the solid weight of Marcus’s body pressing you into the earth.

But Marcus didn’t stop. He kept moving, his thrusts more urgent now, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as he chased his own release. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he trembled with the effort of holding back, of drawing out the moment as long as possible.

And then, with a final, deep thrust, Marcus let out a low, guttural sound, his body tensing as he found his own release. You could feel the heat of him spilling inside you, the sensation overwhelming as he held you close, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

Marcus’s lips lingered on yours, the softness of the kiss a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just transpired between you. His breath was warm against your skin, mingling with the scent of earth and grass, a moment of peace that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. But as the haze of passion began to fade, you noticed the slight tremor in his hand as he cupped your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression shifting from contentment to something more somber, more serious. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret. “I lost control. I didn’t mean to—”

You shook your head, placing a finger over his lips to silence him. “Don’t apologize,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the lingering tremors in your body. “I wanted this, Marcus. I wanted you.”

His eyes softened, but the worry in them didn’t entirely fade. “Still, I should’ve been more careful. I didn’t want to rush things, to make you feel—”

“You didn’t rush anything,” you reassured him, your hand moving to rest over his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your palm. “I’ve never felt more sure about anything.”

He exhaled, the tension in his body easing slightly, but his gaze flickered to the horizon, where the last light of the day was slowly giving way to the deep blue of twilight. “It’s getting late,” he said softly, his tone reluctant, as though he was loath to leave this bubble of intimacy you’d created together. “We should head back before it gets too dark.”

You nodded, understanding his concern even if part of you wanted to stay here with him, wrapped in the warmth of this moment a little longer. The reality of the world outside this secluded field seemed distant, but you knew you couldn’t stay here forever.

Marcus helped you to your feet, his hands steady and reassuring as he adjusted your clothing, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. You mirrored his actions, straightening his tunic and brushing stray blades of grass from his hair, the simple domesticity of the gesture bringing a soft smile to your lips.

As you began to gather your belongings, the silence between you was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that something had shifted, and deepened between you. The sun was almost entirely below the horizon now, the first stars beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, casting a gentle glow over the landscape.

Marcus took your hand, leading you back toward the horses, the warmth of his palm grounding you as you walked together. The field around you was quiet, the only sounds the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant call of a night bird, creating a peaceful backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind.

Once you reached the horses, Marcus turned to you, his eyes searching yours as if seeking reassurance. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I’m more than all right, Marcus,” you replied softly, your heart swelling with affection for this man who had somehow become so important to you in such a short time. “Thank you….”

He seemed to relax at your words, his shoulders losing some of the tension they’d been holding. “I just want you to be happy,” he said, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips. “I am,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to see the way his eyes softened, the tension finally melting away completely.

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dorcas4meadowes · 9 months

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Strawberry Kisses - Luke

Castellan

Pairing: Luke Castellan × Reader

Summary: with a majority of the summer campers away, you and Luke indulged in the quiet through strawberry picking and a picnic date

Warnings: bodies of water, kisses

W/c: 1.5k (I think)

»»———-　　———-««

Sunlight hit Luke's features ever so sweetly, casting a golden halo over his tousled curls. He led you through the paths which were weaved between bushes allowing your fingers to grasp every plump fruit that caught your gaze.

You granted yourself the luxury of becoming distracted admiring the pleasures of the harvest season. You lingered amongst the scent of ripened strawberries and the feeling of dewy warmth, your arms swaying alongside your wicker basket which accommodated very few berries, eating more than you stowed away.

As you gathered the luscious fruits time seemed to slow, savouring the simple moments.

"They’re almost as sweet as you," Luke mused, holding a fruit up to the sunlight before placing it into the basket.

"Any time I believe you couldn't become any more sap you manage to outdo yourself Castellan."

He favoured the way your voice lulled his last name - it was said by many - but your lips managed to make the word seem untouchable. He placed a peck on your cheek before leaning down to twist a berry from a bush, before you too began to discover them hidden behind the copious greenery and flourishing flowers.

Once your container brimmed with red you dispersed from the fields with a smile, taking a detour to your cabin to pick up a larger hamper - filled with sweet delights - and made your way towards a secluded meadow dappled in indirect sunlight.

The perfect sanctuary for a picnic.

You stepped your feet onto the lush grass and escorted Luke towards the lake and laid your chequered blanket beneath the shade of an oak tree, the branches forming a natural shade.

You stretched yourself on the spread, enveloping yourself into the soft murmur of nature and letting tranquillity tug you into a tender embrace.

"Two days." Luke mumbled, noting you of the impending summer break.

"Mm, don't remind me" You said, reaching your fingers to rest in his curls and pull him closer to plant a sweet his on his lips. You left his warmth for a few moments before immediately being tugged back in. "Got something on your mind?" You asked.

"A few things…"

His fingers trailed along your back as if it were a path, your spine a road for his hands which led him to the crease of your knee. He lifted your leg over his own, inviting you to a seat - which you comfortably took - resting your weight against him. His hands slithered to rest in the dip of your curves, taking advantage of his position to brush warm kisses against your jaw and open shoulders. You moved a little to get an "adequate chair", but your actions were evident of what you were attempting, the kisses becoming unsteady and shaky. Your heart began to race in contrast to your slowing thoughts, being consumed in the intensity of your blended emotions.

Then they stopped all together, his head turned from you to find the startled gaze of your close friends – Clarisse and Chris – supposedly on their own adventure.

"Fuck" you mumbled, awkwardly waving to them after tumbling from your boyfriend's lap.

"Why are you waving?" Luke asked

"Maybe they'll go away."

"Piss off Rodriguez!" he yelled across the hill, his sibling swiftly putting his thumbs up before dragging Clarisse away who raised an eyebrow at your commotion.

"Why were they this far away from camp?" you questioned.

"Probably looking for a place to shag." He said bluntly.

After the encounter, you remained "civil" attempting to not scar any more of your companions. You spoke about your plans for when the summer residents would flood back to the camp and the duties you would start. Though, to be bold, Luke couldn't be more uninterested in the stress of a few days, so he pulled his shirt over his head, causing your lips to close and form a smile.

"A swim, while we still can?" He asked, allowing his fingers to snake to your shoulder to slip the strap from your dress. When the support fell, his eyes shamelessly glanced at the bikini which adorned your top, your chest pooling out of the small fabric.

Despite not being the first time he saw you undressed, a flush spread across his cheeks, a similar to the shade of the berries that you picked earlier.

"Swimming's still on, right?" You questioned trying to remain nonchalant, your hand lifting his chin, so his eyes met yours.

"Yeah, yeah," he reconfirmed, his words breathy and diverted.

You slid off your dress and stood, reaching out for his hand to drag him towards the cool tide, your feet stinging from the warmth of the sand which met the shore. Confidence began to seep into your posture as Luke seemed more flustered than he was letting on.

His mind was still preoccupied, so you kicked water at him, creating a war against the sea and the bodies that stood amongst it. You both lingered in the tide and hit one another with gushes of cool until you were fully submerged, gasping for air as your heads rose from the depth of the water.

You turned toward Luke and accepted his outstretched hand which curled around your waist and wrapped under your leg to fold your thighs around his torso. Your chin fell against his shoulder, your arms relaxed around his neck, simply being close to one another.

"Only if we weren't in public…" He muttered, swaying you a little in the water. You weren't in the direct vision of the camp, but this spot was common for wandering satyr's - and Clarisse and Chris - so you kept somewhat disciplined.

"Oh, do tell." You craved as he nipped at the skin below your ear, your legs tightening against him as he whispered sweet - dirty - nothings to you. The familiar all-consuming tension from earlier returned as easily as it left.

He slipped a finger under your jaw to force your eyes to his and you didn't waste time in pressing your lips together. It started gentle - just a press - , but Luke reassured you of how soft his heart truly was for you.

You revelled in the knowledge that only you got to see him like this, so relaxed and pure. Heat took hold and became contagious to Luke, the passion and intensity the two of you shared having no place for the public eye. It’s kept stowed away in the innocent gestures of light, playful touches or holding hands, now it’s revealed itself for what it is.

Inescapable.

No matter how many times the two of you kissed, each time felt different. Each kiss filled with depths of your emotions, that only spilled over when you couldn’t physically contain the heat any longer. He indulged once more before placing a quick kiss to your cheek, dismissing your prying hands and throwing you into the surf and swimming away, leaving you chasing after him.

You stayed in the ocean - quick pecks and swims - until you both grew exhausted and took rest on your blanket, leaving your bodies uncovered for the sun to kiss.

You lay tired and gazed up at the endless sky and let Luke busy himself amongst the flora, slipping many small flowers he had collected into the curvatures of your hair, sliding them into your braids.

And in moments like these you could appreciate what the fates had woven into your future - despite their dreadful manners - beauty could be found amongst the threads and fabrics, the boy beside you covering your life's canvas with an outbreak of stain age.

——————————

If you want to be added to a tag list for Luke fics just comment (requests are open as always)

<33

Master list

#luke castellan imagines #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo x you #pjo x reader #percy jackson series #riawrites

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myers-meadow · 2 months

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Wheat fields: Tommy x reader

Title: Wheat fields, or: Picnic date ✨🌻🌱 Part one here.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x f! reader

Summary: After running into Tommy and sharing a kiss or two, he finally asks you out. He takes you outside the city for a wonderful picnic, where you share more than those chaste kisses from before.

Word count: 2201

Warnings: none. fluff. They have a few glasses of wine. Soft Tommy.

This is a continuation of Chance Meetings, but I'm sure it's good as a standalone one-shot too. Thank you so much to @moxleyhorror for beta reading and giving me the encouragment I needed to get this done! <3 Dividers by @saradika-graphics. I'd love to hear what you think! Enjoy! <3

After those first few meetings, you couldn't stop thinking about him. 'It was just a kiss', you had to remind yourself, 'nothing more. And it certainly doesn't mean anything.' Yet, when you ran into him again when purchasing a newspaper, your heart surged, and you knew he'd break your heart if you let him.

"Fancy seeing you here," Tommy said, voice so soft only you could hear, leaning in as you went up to the counter to pay. "I'd almost suspect you were following me, with how often this keeps happening."

"You'd think so," you hummed, trying not to go weak in the knees as you remember the kiss and hushed words that were your last meeting. "It's coincidental for sure."

Before you could find a the right amount of pennies in your purse, Tommy already pressed two coins on the counter, and led you out of the small store with a firm hand on the small of your back. You looked back hesistantly but his voice drew your attention back to him.

"You don't believe in fate?"

"No. Do you?"

He shook his head. Even outside, he didn't let go of your waist. He glanced around from under his cap, letting the shadow fall over his eyes, as he surveyed the street. "Listen. This weekend, are you free on Sunday? Be it after church, if you need." His piercing blue eyes looked at you from under the rim of his cap. Seeing your confusion, he cleared his throat and said; "I'd like to take you out."

For a moment, your heart skipped a beat, as the full weight of what he was asking slowly processed. He'd break your heart, for sure, it felt like. There's no other way for this to end. Another private moment with Tommy... He'd have it beat so fast, that just a look from him, a soft smile, soft spoken priase, would send your heart in a frenzy and there's nothing you could even think of to stop him from doing so. Yet, as your mind flared with worry, insecurity, better judgement - it was your heart that answered.

"Yes, after church, I'm free. What for?"

He smiled. The sight alone made you melt. "Good. I'll pick you up, then. Dress practical. For now, I have some business to take care of. See you Sunday, love."

With a final, lingering look at you, he left, crossing the street and disappearing into the crowd. Leaving you, standing there, to stare after him, feeling the heat in your cheeks slowly fade, replaying the way his deliciously gruff voice called you 'love'.

When Sunday came around, you didn't know what to expect, what he had planned. Was he really taking you out? Where to? 'Dress practical', alright, so what did that mean?

Regardless, you kept on what you wore to church, it was maybe a little formal, so you changed your shoes to your most comfortable pair. Your checked yourself once again, just to be sure. As for most of your kin, there wasn't a lot of money going around, but you still liked to dress nice.

The doorbell rang, and you ran down the stairs before steadying yourself for a second, before swining open the door. It was Tommy, perfectly on time. He smiled as he saw you. His car was parked behind him.

"You ready?" he asked, before gesturing to the car. You follow him, and he opens the door for you, before sliding in himself. What a shiny black thing, you thought, as you looked at the interior. It looked well taken care of. On the backseat was a basket, the contents covered by cloth.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Tommy mused, and started the car. Once out of the street, you reached for the cigarette case in your purse and gave him one too. He leant in so you could light his cigarette for him, and you smoke in silence. The road he took, lead you out of the city, past the industrial side of Birmingham, past the open country, following a bumpy dirt road.

Aside from some small talk, the ride was quiet, and after leaving the city, it barely took half an hour before Tommy stopped the car at the side of the road. A green landscape stretched before you. The air smelt clean, once the car engine was shut off. Some farms were visible in the distance, surrounded with yellow wheat fields swaying in the wind. You open the car door and step out, glad you wore something practical. Tommy followed you, grabbing the basked from the back seat.

"Where is this place?" you asked, as you step through the high grass next to the dirt road. There were some oak trees up ahead, and Tommy lead you there.

"It's peaceful, isn't it," he responded, "but it's no place in particular. Here, help me with the blanket."

He handed you one side of it and together, you spread it on the ground, landing softly in the grass. Nearby a bee buzzed from a dandelion to a small daisy that hides in the grass. Tommy set down the basket on the blanket and kneels down on it. You followed, kicking off your shoes to be more comfortable.

"Are you hungry?" Reaching into the basket, he took out half a loaf of bread and a big knife to cut it with. "Or thirsty, rather?" A bottle of rosé wine followed, with two glasses.

"I didn't take you as someone fond of wine," you took the bottle from him and undid the cap. He continued unpacking the basket, some fruit followed; cherries, an apple for you each, and a few plums.

"The exception is due to the occasion," was all he said, and took the glass you poured for him as you hold it out to him.

You smiled softly, leaning back on your hands, enjoying the sun on your face. "I didn't think you'd ask me out," you mused, without any accusation in your voice.

Tommy took off his cap, messing with his hair, before setting it aside. He takes in your content expression and tries a sip of wine. "Well, you're hard to forget."

You glanced at him, his confession was more than you'd expected in the first place. "It's lovely out here. So nice to be out of the city. I remember growing up, how all we did was travel, and we didn't deal with city folk as much as we do now."

He shifted his position to a more comfortable one, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees. "Are you alright staying in Birmingham? You stay with the Lees, right?"

You nodded. "It's all good. Just glad to be away for now. Did you prepare all of this yourself?"

He chuckled, studying you some more. "Polly helped," he admitted. He pushed the bread and cheese towards you and you helped yourself. It was good, a nice, flavourful soft goat cheese. Luxury for you. You wondered if he got it just for the occasion, to show off, or whether it was a household staple for the Shelbys. You sipped the wine to wash it down. Instead of eating, Tommy went for a cigarette. As he took it out of the case, your hand instinctively found your matchbox and before he could reach for his own, you struck a match. With the mildest surprise in his expression, he leaned in and let you light it for him.

"I hope you don't expect me to eat by myself, Tommy."

He chuckled softly, taking the cigarette between two fingers. "I'll have some in a moment, I'm just... taking in the atmosphere."

So you sat together, and you shifted too, knees brushing together, and you looked around. Nothing. For miles. Just quiet. No machinery, nothing but birds chirping and wind rustling through leaves. With a deep sigh, you slowly relaxed. Soon, both your glasses were empty, and you poured them full again. The wine was warming up, and even though it didn't help the taste, it was vaguely romantic to share a bottle with him. Did he think you'd be the type for rosé, and is that why he brought it? No use in asking, you supposed, and instead you took the knife and cut a plum in half. It was so ripe that the juice dripped down your palm. The pit came away with ease. You offered half to Tommy, before taking your first bite.

"Ah, it's so ripe," you said, "I love plums."

With another look at you, he ate his half in two bites, chewing slowly. As you finished eating, you looked around for a handkerchief to wipe your sticky fingers with, but instead, Tommy took your hand in his.

"Here, let me," he said, and brought your fingers to his lips. Astonished, you let him suck the juices off, his mouth warm and soft, a heated blush creeping up your neck. His sky blue eyes watched your every reaction as you shifted to accomodate the distance. His free hand cupped the back of your head, and you were more than eager to taste the plum on his lips. This kiss was nothing like the caste ones you shared before; openmouthed and hungry. Only a moment of connection passed, before you were in his lap, straddling his hips. You tried to steady yourself by gripping onto his lapels, pressing your body to his. His lips were warm and firm, tasting of tangy sweet plum and cigarettes. With the way his fingers treaded into the hair at the nape of your neck, there was no breaking the kiss. He took his time exploring your mouth, your lips, his tongue dancing with yours, before his lips moved to your ear, teeth tugging at the lobe.

"I rather like plums too," he chuckled sotfly, breath tickling your ear. His hands needed their way up your sides, feeling your body in ways that heated you all over. You kissed his neck, or; the small bit of it that his collar left exposed, and pushed his head back to follow the line of the jugular. He shivered and let you push him down into the grass.

"You're a very good kisser," you mused, between nips, making your way back up to his ear. "Would you like something sweeter?" Seperating yourself from him with another kiss to his lips, you leant back up, enjoying the sight of him underneath you. As much as you tried to ignore the way your core pressed over his bulge, or what could be a revolver in his trousers - with Tommy there was no way to really tell - leaning back to grab another plum and the knife had you grind against it deliciously. He noticed your small whimper, and propped up his knees to have you move forward again, making you laugh sweetly at his teasing.

"Be careful, I'm holding a knife." Yet you both were still laughing. The second plum was just as ripe as the first. You threw the pit away in the grass, getting a small vision of a fully grown plum tree, branches heavy with fruit, all thanks to you and Tommy's little tryst outside the city many years prior. You took the first bite, not chewing yet, instead, leaning down to feed it to him, letting him take it from between your teeth.

"It's certainly sweeter this way," Tommy said, swallowing. "But perhaps there's something I'd rather have, instead..."

As he pulled you down to him again, you gladly joined him and let him roll you over, so you were on your back in the prickly grass. The knife left discarded on the blanket; the sounds of birds, crickets and a cow mooing in the distance soon overshadowed by the wet sounds of your kisses, soft moans and sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

When he dropped you off at your home, he let you keep the basket with some leftover bread and fruits, and he kissed you by the door, his hand pressing you into his chest in a way that had you craving more. You mulled the question over, whether to invite him in or not. After all, you two hadn't slept together out there in the fields - you were too much a romantic at heart, but now that the moment was over, you still wanted him desperately. It would be devastating if this day was over, and you'd lie in bed to regret everything you didn't get to do, feel, experience...

"Are you free on Tuesday evening?" he asked, voice still a bit hoarse from all the kissing. The way he looked at you from under his cap could only be described as hopeful, and it made your heart surge.

"For you, I'm free any time," you said with a playful smile. "Will you take me out again?"

He gave a curt nod, glancing over you briefly. Hopefully there weren't any noticable grass stains, this was your nicest dress. "But it's a surprise, all right?"

You looped your arm around his neck and kissed him again. "I can't wait." And from the way he returned your kiss, you knew he couldn't either.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #meadow's writing #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fic

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writeforfandoms · 1 year

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Fear Not This Night

Find my CoD masterlist

Being part of the 141 pack meant you watched out for your boys, always. As their medic, it meant you sometimes flew into danger for them. When someone uses that knowledge against you to separate you from your pack, you pay the price.

Warnings: Blood, treating wounds, medical inaccuracies, shifter biology, shifter dynamics, psychological torture, physical torture, being blinded (hood over head), brief self-harm (pulling feathers). This one is a bit dark so if you would like more in depth warnings, come ask me.

Word count: 7.6k

Harpy eagle f!reader x 141 poly

You soared over the trees, sharp eyes watching for your team. You’d gotten the call that they needed you a few hours prior, so you knew they’d likely moved some from their last coordinates. But you doubted they’d gone far. You weren’t even tired yet, broad wings carrying you and your pack.

Finally, you spotted Soap, in a convenient space between trees. Good man, making your life easier. You didn’t cry out in recognition, because that was dangerous. But you did dive, tucking your wings close and waiting until the last possible moment to pull up, flapping down to land on your pack. It was specially designed to be sturdy enough for you to land on, fortunately.

“There ye are,” Soap murmured, grinning at you and reaching out one hand to stroke the top of your head. You blinked at him, chirping. “C’mon. Someone got a lucky hit on Ghost.”

You hopped off your medic pack, hopping a few steps away before you shifted. “How bad?” you asked, opening up your pack and throwing on clothes. For the chill more than for modesty.

You had no modesty around your boys anymore.

“Price wants ye to check, because Ghost is bein’ an ass.”

“I heard that,” came the grumpy growl from Ghost.

You rolled your eyes and picked up your pack, which looked more like a picnic basket when you carried it this way. “If you’re alive enough to growl, you’re alive enough to behave,” you pointed out. He still had his mask on, but he wasn’t arguing lying down, either. Hmm. Must be feeling worse than you thought.

You settled on your knees next to Ghost, giving him a quick once-over. Bandages had been packed down against his thigh, though you ignored them for the moment. Nothing else looked out of place.

“Anywhere hurting besides the thigh?”

“Took a round to the vest,” he admitted, a little reluctant and a lot grumpy. Probably mostly grumpy that he got hit.

“Just bruised,” Gaz said as he crouched a little to the side of you and behind you, out of the way but ready to assist. “Didn’t even crack a rib.”

“Lucky bastard,” you agreed, shifting your attention down to his thigh. “And this?”

“A graze,” Gaz said. “But it bled a lot, more than normal.”

You hummed acknowledgement, leaning closer. Ghost shifted, and you cooed softly, almost reflexively. He huffed but settled.

The wound wasn’t bad under the bandages, but it was in a tricky spot, just above his knee. You couldn’t see any real reason why it would have bled more than normal except use, which was kind of inevitable. But even so, just to be on the safe side, you smeared it with ointment and rewrapped it.

“How far do you have to go?” You packed up the rest of your supplies after forcing Ghost to drink more water.

“Little ways yet.” Price shrugged, planting his hands on his hips.

“I’m fine to keep going,” Ghost said, because of course he did.

“You finish your water,” you said, poking his hip. “Then we’ll see.”

He huffed, eyes narrowing at you. But he subsided. Mostly because you both knew Price would side with you.

“If you left now?” You raised one eyebrow at Price.

“We’d make it by dawn.”

You puffed out a breath. That was not too bad. Ghost was tough, you knew he could last that long, especially since he’d already been forced to rest (and probably to eat something, knowing the rest of the pack). “I’ll scout ahead,” you said, pushing up to your feet. “Circle back and follow behind, make sure you’re fine.”

“I’ve got your pack,” Gaz offered before you could say anything more. You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t protest. You knew better.

You also knew better than to shift again without eating something, so you ripped open a protein bar and ate it as fast as possible under Price’s approving eye. Tossing your clothes back at Gaz and grinning at his playful huff, you shifted back and took off again.

The route forward to their exfil point was clear and quiet, even to your keen gaze. Turning to circle back, you made sure to check back in on your guys as you flew above them.

No enemies behind, either. They’d done a good job of either killing everyone who’d tried to follow, or losing them. You expected nothing less from them.

Pleased, you made a few big circles just to be sure. Still nothing. No sign of enemies. You took your time following your pack to the exfil point.

True to Price’s prediction, just as the sun broke the horizon the pack made it to exfil. You dove down to join them, landing next to Ghost. Gaz tossed your clothes to you as soon as you shifted, and Ghost shoved water at you.

“You all are mother hens, y’know that?” you grumbled without any heat, grinning, even as you double-checked Gaz’s straps.

“Says the biggest hen of us,” Soap pointed out with a wicked grin.

“Now now, just because my tits are the best–” you started playfully.

“Enough,” Price interrupted, sitting on Gaz’s other side, between him and the opening. Smart man.

You and Soap subsided, though you did both roll your eyes. “Everybody good?” You looked around at them, meeting each gaze squarely for a moment, to make sure none of them were lying. They all tolerated it, well used to you by now. Satisfied that none of your guys were about to keel over, you settled back for the trip back.

Flying in a heli had never been your favorite thing to do. You much preferred to fly on your own. But you had to admit that the heli was faster - you’d tried once to keep up, and couldn’t. Which wasn’t actually surprising, just disappointing.

This flight was not bad. Not too long. Which was good, because you were getting antsy. Ghost had caught a nap on the heli, but you still wanted to make sure he was fine in better conditions than you’d had before.

As soon as the heli landed, you were out, watching Ghost carefully. He wouldn’t accept help, not in front of others, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t check in.

“‘M fine,” he grumbled at you very quietly as you fell into step next to him.

“I’m sure you are,” you agreed. “And I’ll be more sure after I get to look you over.”

Soap leaned closer, waggling his eyebrows. But he didn’t say anything, because he couldn’t. Not here. Not where people could overhear and get the wrong idea.

Simon was fine, as it turned out when you finally got him to medical. Heightened metabolisms were good for some things, after all, and that included faster healing.

But you still bullied all your guys into the nest to take a nap.

“Stop fussing,” Price grumbled, lifting his head to pin you with a look. “And get in here.”

“It is literally my job to fuss,” you grumbled right back, although you did stop messing with the pillows and observed the nest. There was a good spot next to Simon. You carefully stepped over Gaz and Price before you settled down with a soft chirp, nestled between Simon and Price. There. That was better.

Price’s soft huff made you grin to yourself. At least until Simon tucked you under his arm and started scratching your scalp. Then you relaxed into him.

Okay. Maybe you could take a nap too.

One good thing about having pack-only spaces was that you could be with your guys without fear.

Simon had been ordered to stay and rest and finish healing while the other three went on what was supposed to be a quick mission. A day or two all told, is how Price had phrased it. You didn't know the details, didn't need to know the details, but you did know that Simon hated this.

"Relax," you murmured to him soothingly, scratching your fingers against his scalp. "They'll be back soon."

He grumbled wordlessly, one hand curling against your thigh where he was also using it as a pillow.

"Easy, Simon," you murmured, low and soothing. The little bit of grooming helped both of you, you knew. And it was almost all you could do for the moment.

Until you got called to help with exfil.

You hated leaving Simon, knew he'd be all but climbing the walls in his anxiety, but… needs must. He understood.

This time you went without your med pack - supplies would be available after exfil.

You weren't even sure Price had called for you. But the order came from higher up, so off you went to go help.

From high in the air, the battlefield looked bad. You could see bodies still laying where they'd fallen, a visual indication of the path of retreat. It took a little time to find your guys, the three of them huddled together behind a half-burned building. There were no immediate threats, but you could see where enemies had set up to hinder them.

It was not an easy situation, nor an easy fix. You flapped your wings a few times, changing your trajectory.

You needed to give them a distraction, a chance to get out. Most people didn't look up - you could use that, get a good sneak attack or two in. Cause a little chaos in the line.

It would do for now, until you came up with a better plan.

You flew a little higher, using the angle of the sun to help disguise your descent. And then you dove, aiming for one soldier a little apart from the others. He never saw you coming.

But he screamed as your talons ripped through the vulnerable skin of his scalp and neck.

You flapped hard, leaving him to bleed out even as shouts started up around you. You managed to vanish into the sun, flying up high again. You'd be harder to hit that way.

Of course, now they were on alert. Damn. That hadn't quite been enough of a distraction for your guys to get away.

You needed something bigger.

Scanning the ground, you looked for something out of the way to pick up and drop on the enemy line.

It was a good plan, and it even worked.

Until you were flying away. Someone must have been watching, because there was a sharp pain in your wing, enough to make you screech. Your wing faltered and you fell, just able to slow yourself enough that you didn't injure yourself further.

You hit the ground in a flurry of blood and feathers and screeching. Your wing hurt, leaving you unable to fly.

Behind enemy lines.

The first man to lunge at you got your beak to his throat, blood hot as it splashed across your face and chest. Maybe you'd have time to get to safety, maybe you could shift and–

Something heavy fell over your head, completely blocking your vision. You screeched, loud and angry, but more heavy things landed on top of you. Something held your wings firmly down against your sides, the pain sharp enough to make you try to jerk away. But you couldn't, too many hands grabbing you and securing you.

Blind and trapped, you could only feel as you were picked up and moved.

But you weren't dead yet, which was terrifying.

People handed you off between them, and you tried to flap your wings or flex your claws or anything. But movement of any kind resulted in you being squeezed to the point of pain.

With no way to see where you were or how many of them there were, you gave up. Conserved your strength, so you'd have a better chance of escape once you could see again.

An engine rumbled to life, and you got squished in against a body.

"Try anything funny and I will break your wing," a man hissed to you in heavily-accented English. You didn't doubt that he, or someone, would.

So you behaved, because you wouldn't be able to escape if you had a broken wing. You listened to the occasional chatter in Arabic. You tried very hard not to panic.

Sooner than you expected, the car stopped and you were once again handed off. The thing never came off your head, never let you see anything.

But you could hear more people, orders shouted in Arabic, more movement.

Oh this was bad.

Someone carried you somewhere cooler. More movement around you, and for a brief moment you could see as the heavy thing over your head was yanked off - you could see two men in front of you, one of them grinning to show off two empty spaces where teeth should be.

Then darkness again as a hood was secured over your head. You'd never been put in a falconry hood, but you knew immediately that's what it was, just from the feel of the leather and ties around your head. You screeched, trying to flap your wings.

"Enough of that," a sharp voice scolded. You nearly startled to realize it sounded like a woman. There was another flurry of Arabic, orders it sounded like, and then hands grasped your right wing, the one with the bullet hole. Big hands held you in place, wing extended, other wing pinned to your side.

You had no idea what they were doing until you heard the snip, snip, snip. You screeched, enraged and despairing and agonized. But they didn't stop, and there was nothing you could do.

"There." The woman sounded far too smug, too pleased. "Now you can be my bird." She laughed, low and throaty and sadistic.

You shivered, tucking your wings in as tight as you could, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Bells jingled as you moved and you froze in horror.

Hood and jesses. They were treating you like a falconry bird.

If you could, you might have thrown up. As it was, you made a tiny distressed noise.

A door shut somewhere nearby, leaving you with the terrible feeling that you were alone.

You tried to pace off the room, but the fucking bells kept breaking your concentration. You could stretch your wings, at least, though the right one hurt. And the way the air moved around your wing was… wrong.

That was all the confirmation you needed, even as you pulled your wings in tight again and huddled in place, shivering. They’d clipped your primaries.

Even if the hood was gone, you wouldn’t be able to fly.

You had no idea how long you stood there, alone in the forced darkness. Time was meaningless as you mentally went in circles. Simon knew you’d gone. There was a chance the other three had seen you or heard the commotion. People knew you were gone.

Someone would come for you.

Or you’d be killed first.

But you didn’t want to die, your pack needed you, you couldn’t leave them, they’d never forgive themselves if you died here–

The door opened hard enough that it slammed into the wall, and you jumped, wings flaring in agitation.

“There’s my pretty bird,” the woman from before cooed, over-sweet and mocking. “Hungry yet?” Her steps were deliberately loud as she approached you. You stiffened, holding yourself tense, but didn’t move. “Now, are you going to cooperate? Be a good bird?”

You didn’t reply, but you figured that lack of fighting would be a response. Because you had no idea where you were, and you held almost no power here. You knew that if you got too uppity, they’d make your life worse. Probably not kill you - they’d had plenty of opportunity to do that, and hadn’t yet.

But you could think of plenty of things they could do to make things worse for you.

The hood was pulled off your head, and you blinked rapidly as you adjusted to the light. The room had no windows and only one door. The artificial light washed everything yellow.

And, most importantly, left you no way to know how long it had been, how long you’d been gone.

The woman in front of you wore khaki and brown, simple clothes that were more functional than fashionable. Brown eyes held yours, a smirk slowly stretching her lips when you refused to look away first. But she didn’t seem to care about a dominance game. She just stepped further into the room, setting down two bowls for you.

Like you were a pet.

Your stomach turned and you stayed very still, head tipped, watching her closely.

“Well? Go on. Eat while you can.” Her grin had stretched into a cruel thing, showing too many teeth.

You shuffle-hopped forward, the bells on the jesses setting off every nerve you had. You hated this. Hated her. But this wouldn’t be forever, you knew it wouldn’t. You needed to eat, needed the fuel to heal and save up for your escape (as soon as you had a decent plan).

So, much as it grated on you, you ate from the bowl, keeping your gaze on her as much as you could. It felt demeaning, dehumanizing.

You felt like some exotic pet. The feeling made your blood boil, made you seethe. But you were careful to do so very quietly, only to yourself.

“Good bird,” she cooed mockingly. “We shall see how long it takes to train you.”

Before you could do more than flare your wings in protest, the hood was shoved back on your head, plunging you into darkness once more. You flapped your wings twice, momentarily off-balance.

The door shut. A lock clicked.

And you were alone again, in darkness and silence.

It was impossible to track how much time had passed. You could hear only occasional muffled sounds beyond your room, had no way to mark the passage of time.

The only breaks from the darkness were for food, always far enough apart that you were hungry, always the woman and one underling. Always demeaning. Always difficult.

You suffered through five meals. Five meals. Each one worse than the last, with more taunting, more mocking. It was harder every time to not just leap at her and rip into her.

But you remained patient, somehow.

The muffled sound of gunfire drew your attention, and you moved back and forth restlessly. It was hard not to get your hopes up, after however many days of being stuck here.

When the gunfire got louder and you heard the muffled shouts outside your door, satisfaction surged. That was probably your pack, coming for you.

And if it wasn’t, well… There was more than one way out of here.

You waited for a lull in the fighting, in the shouting and gunshots and chaos. And then you screeched, as loud as you could.

There. If that was your pack, they’d know it was you. If it was anybody else… You’d deal with that when you could.

The fighting and gunfire got closer, and you backed up slowly, carefully. The jingling of the fucking jesses still grated, but it was easier to ignore with the fighting outside.

There were two shots outside, two thuds. Your heart beat faster and you half-spread your wings, talons clicking against the floor.

“Found her,” came Soap’s voice from the door, and the breath whooshed out of you all at once. “Fuck,” he ground out, as angry as you’d ever heard him. “Okay, ‘s just me, sweets. Ah’m gonna take this off, yeah?” Hands fumbled with the hood for a moment before it was gone, leaving you blinking and near-blinded by the sudden brightness.

And there was Soap, clothes a little bloodied, expression torn between rage and sympathy. He spared a moment to smooth a hand over your head.

“Can ye shift?”

You clicked your beak and awkwardly held out one leg, jingling the jess still attached.

His expression immediately darkened. “Ah’ll burn the whole place,” he swore, rapidly removing one jess, then the other.

Relieved, you immediately shifted back. Your arm ached where the bullet hole had mostly healed, and you knew you probably looked a wreck. You felt a wreck, a little shaky and unsteady. But you were also determined to get the hell out.

“Give me a gun,” you rasped, throat dry.

“Ah donnae have supplies for ye,” Soap murmured apologetically, even as he unclipped his handgun and handed it to you. “Keep close.”

You nodded silently, pushing down everything else. You’d deal with everything else later.

Warm wetness on your feet made you look down as you followed Soap out of the room that had been your prison for however long. Two guards, both dead. Clean shots. Blood had pooled in the hallway. Your upper lip curled and you stepped carefully through the hall, not wanting to slip on anything.

Soap motioned you to wait as you came up to a corner, and he peeked around first. A gunshot had him jerking back.

“Counted eight,” he murmured to you. “Wait here.”

“But–” Your shoulders raised, and if you’d had feathers they would have been floofing out.

“Ye have no vest, no protection,” Soap pointed out, soft but firm. “Jus’ got ye back, sweets. Donnae ask me this.”

And you deflated again. As much as you wanted to kill every bastard in the building yourself, he had a good point. “Okay,” you agreed quietly, grip tightening briefly on your gun. “I’ll wait.”

Soap pressed a quick, hard kiss to your temple before he was gone, picking off one before he even rounded the corner. You could do nothing but listen to the chaos and wait for the all clear to move up.

A scuff behind you had you whirling, gun up. The woman stood no more than ten paces away, teeth bared, a gun in her hand.

“Well well, is this what pretty birdie looks like when she’s not a birdie?” She laughed, the sound unhinged, divorced from reality. “What a waste.”

“Don’t move.” Your voice didn’t shake. Your hands didn’t shake. But your mind… your mind quailed.

“What’s the matter, birdie? Missing your hood?” Her teeth were bloody, eyes fixed on you as she took a step closer.

You swallowed hard, breath coming faster. If you never saw a hood again it would be too soon.

“We can fix that.” She took another step forward, lifting the gun slowly, as if it was much heavier than it actually was.

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t blink. You shot her, center mass.

She fell.

“Sweets?” Soap sounded only a little panicky.

“Clear!” You swallowed. Then again. You were a medic, yes, but this was far from the first time you’d killed. You’d hoped this would bring a little peace.

Instead you were simply numb.

“Move up!” Soap called after another minute. You obeyed wordlessly, turning your back on the corpse without another thought.

“How far?” you asked softly, stopping behind him, letting him be your shield again.

“Not much farther.” He glanced back at you, worried. “Ye alright?”

“Fine.” Your answer was short, clipped. Because you couldn’t think about being anything other than fine. “Let’s go.”

Soap hesitated a moment longer, gaze searching your face, before he nodded once, slowly. Then he moved, keeping you behind him. You kept close to him, moving as quietly as possible, ignoring the tackiness of blood drying on your skin.

He had you wait as he cleared one more room, and then the two of you met up with Gaz. Gaz breathed in sharply when he saw you but was quick to tug you to him in a hard hug, the edges of his vest and gear blunt and uncomfortable against your skin. You didn’t care, returning the hug with an edge of desperation.

“Here,” Gaz murmured, pulling spare clothes from one of his pouches. “Couldn’t bring extra gear for you, but this’ll do for now.”

You nodded, pulling the clothes on silently. They didn’t actually help you feel any better, but being with two of your pack did.

“Price and Ghost are almost done,” Gaz told Soap, tucking you between the two so you were protected. “Ready to meet up?”

“Ready.” Soap grinned, brief and vicious. “Ye’ll like this,” he promised you, taking the lead. You followed him, Gaz on your six. The building was quiet now, tension thrumming under your skin. But you kept up, swallowing back your nerves as best you could.

“All set up?” Soap asked as he stepped into a room. You followed, a little more cautious.

“All set,” Price agreed, eyes immediately finding you. A bit of tension leaked from his shoulders and he smiled, just a little. “Ready to get out of here?”

You nodded silently, but didn’t say anything. Which didn’t matter, because Ghost was in front of you in a few long strides, one hand gently cupping your cheek to tip your head.

“Injuries?” he asked softly, gaze sweeping over you.

“Just my arm.” And your feathers, but you couldn’t think about that for longer than a moment or you’d start screaming.

Ghost nodded, pulling you into his side.

“Let’s go,” Price ordered, taking point. The others kept you in the middle between them all the way out.

At a safe distance, the group of you turned. Soap waggled his eyebrows at you, grinning, before he pushed down on a detonator.

The entire building collapsed, shaking apart as explosions ripped through it. It was incredibly cathartic to see. Or, well. It probably was. You were… kind of numb.

“Here.”

You blinked slowly to find Price holding out a water to you. Your hands trembled as you took it, drinking slowly under the watchful gaze of your pack.

“It’s not far to exfil,” Gaz murmured, one hand resting on your shoulder. You leaned into the touch, breath momentarily hitching.

“Okay.” You swallowed hard and took the protein bar Price handed over, eating mechanically. You could barely taste it.

You knew this was bad, but. Not much to be done about it yet.

“You alright to walk the rest of the way?” Price asked, glancing down at your feet.

You blinked. You… couldn’t actually feel any discomfort from your feet, though you knew you should. You were standing barefoot on the ground, and it wasn’t even flat ground. “I’m fine.”

Price eyed you for a moment before he nodded. “Let’s get out of here, then,” he murmured. Contrary to his own words, he leaned in until he could press his forehead to yours, taking a moment to just breathe. Then he pulled back, once again taking point.

You followed, a little slow but moving under your own power. At least you weren’t in pain.

Yet.

The heli was waiting for you when you arrived. You shivered briefly against the wind and hurried in, buckling in with shaking hands. Soap dropped down on one side of you, Gaz on your other side. They both double checked your harness.

The flight back didn’t seem to take any time. You sat upright, tired and numb and cold, but unable to show any of that. You would eventually, you knew. You should probably warn your guys, you knew.

But you couldn’t.

The heli set down with a bump and you jolted. Two pairs of hands steadied you, Gaz and Soap both looking at you with concern.

But nobody said anything as they escorted you to medical.

You answered anything directly asked of you, quiet and stiff. The bullet hole in your arm was deemed mostly healed (it should have been more healed, really, but you hadn’t eaten enough), and otherwise you were dehydrated and bruised, but mostly unharmed.

The problem arose when one of the medics asked you to shift.

“No.” The word was only a whisper but you leaned away, hands curling into fists, muscles pulling taut.

The medic paused, eyeing you carefully. You were known to be more easy-going and cooperative, so this? Was unusual. “If you need privacy–”

“No.” It came out a little stronger this time, even as your gaze darted to the door, heart racing. No. Absolutely not.

The medic slowly leaned back, away from you. But their voice was calm as they called, “Captain?”

Price was in front of you a moment later, taking in your posture in a quick glance. He put one heavy hand on your shoulder, ducking his head to look you in the eyes for a moment. “Easy,” he murmured, frowning a little. “You done here?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the medic.

“She hasn’t shifted yet, so we’re not technically done,” the medic explained.

Price glanced down at you, and you shook your head, jaw clenched so tight your teeth ached. “Another time,” Price grunted, gently tugging you off the exam table.

The medic sighed, exasperated but unwilling to fight. “Fine. Make sure she sleeps,” they ordered, moving out of the way. “And eats.”

Price nodded, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You tried not to focus on that, tried to focus on following him instead. But it was hard. The touch had been grounding, helpful. Helping to pull you back into yourself.

“You should get cleaned up,” Price murmured, heading back towards your quarters. “It’ll help.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t manage more than that, couldn’t force more out. The numbness was slowly fading, leaving you aching. And tired. So very tired.

Price paused outside your door, studying you. “Do you want someone here?”

You swallowed and forced yourself to nod. You didn’t want to be alone. But you didn’t want anyone looking at you just yet, either.

Price nodded slowly, brow furrowing a little. “I’ll stay,” he rumbled, pushing your door open and ushering you through first. “Get cleaned up, dress down for the evening.”

You nodded wordlessly, slipping past him and grabbing comfortable clothes. You had a bathroom to yourself, something you were extremely grateful for, and you shut the door between yourself and your alpha. And then immediately opened it a crack, because you felt too trapped otherwise.

Hot water felt heavenly, after everything. Getting to scrub your head felt heavenly. Everything else… Well. You definitely overdid it washing yourself, scratching your skin nearly raw in places. You did make yourself bleed again, accidentally breaking open the wound in your arm.

But you finally felt clean enough for the moment and emerged, drying off and wrapping your head in a towel. That would do.

Price was still sitting on your bed when you emerged, phone in hand, though he turned his gaze to you as soon as the door opened. His gaze lingered on your skin, and you knew he was making note of everything. But he didn’t comment.

“Figured we’d go to the pack room,” he said, carefully phrasing it as an option, rather than an order. “Got Gaz and Soap bringing food.”

You nodded. “Food sounds good,” you admitted, walking over to him. You didn’t ask, just plastered yourself to his front, cheek pressed to his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of your alpha. Price hummed softly, one hand cupping the back of your head, his other settling on your back.

“Take as long as you need,” he murmured, low and soothing. “We’ll walk together, hm?”

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, relaxing into his warmth. Just a minute. You just needed a minute. Price only held you tighter.

You finally pulled back with one last deep breath. “Okay,” you croaked. “Let’s go.”

Price didn’t object, but he did keep you close as the two of you walked to the pack room. Almost nobody was around, which worked out well, because you were starting to use your captain for help staying upright.

No sooner had you stepped into the pack room than you got swarmed. Somehow, you weren’t exactly sure how, they settled you on the couch pressed up against Simon, with Gaz and Soap chattering as they made up plates of food, and Price hovering behind you and Simon.

“Don’t ask,” you murmured to Simon, fairly sure Price could hear too. “Not yet.”

Simon hummed softly, carefully bundling you even closer to his side. “Not yet,” he agreed, about as soft as he ever got.

Gaz and Soap carried the conversation through dinner, both of them settling around you as well until you were entirely enclosed by pack. It should have made you feel better.

It didn’t.

All you could think of were the past eight days. Eight, you discovered when Soap let it slip. Eight days you’d been stuck in that hood and silence but for the jesses, treated like an animal.

It was almost enough to make you sick.

You swallowed down what you could, but ended up leaving food. It was odd - you would have thought you’d be ravenous, after the last days. But you weren’t. You were barely hungry, only ate to try to stave off their concern.

Which didn’t entirely work, from the quick looks and little touches you endured through the evening.

And then you just… settled. Let one of them take your plate when it was obvious you weren’t going to eat more, and relaxed. Simon stayed on one side of you, refusing to move. You leaned more and more into him as your eyes tried to shut, until he simply pulled you in to use his chest as a pillow. You murmured something, half complaint half thanks, and closed your eyes, the soothing sounds of your pack settling around you.

You woke to total darkness.

For a moment you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. If you moved you’d hear those damn bells, and there was no point because you couldn’t get anywhere, you were trapped, and your wings– your wings–

“Hey, hey, s’alright love,” Simon murmured urgently, hands patting at you. Which was when you realized you were keening, breath hitching in your chest. You still couldn’t see but you could feel your pack moving around you.

“Get the lights,” Price ordered. “Simon?”

“Not sure.” Simon put one hand over your chest. “You need to breathe.” It wasn’t until he put your hand against his chest, letting you feel the exaggerated inflation of his lungs that you realized he was talking to you.

The lights flipped on, bright and sudden, and you went limp. You were fine. You were in the pack room. You didn’t have a hood on.

“Love?” Simon leaned closer to you, eyes dark and worried.

“‘M okay,” you gasped, blinking a few times, finally settling back into reality. “Just. A minute.”

Simon didn’t move, just breathing in again. You did your best to follow along, nerves still strung taut from waking the way you did. Soap pressed up close to your side, his head resting near your hip. Your fingers curled gently in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp to help calm yourself. Based on his pleased hum, that’s what he’d wanted in the first place.

“Better?” Price moved carefully closer, doing a quick visual check.

“Yeah.” You licked your lips, very aware of your dry throat now. “Just.” You clenched your jaw. Admitting weakness was never easy, and this was no different. “Couldn’t see.”

Soap lifted his head to look at you. “Sweets,” he started, carefully, like he was feeling for land mines. “Did they keep the hood on ye?”

You swallowed hard. “Except for when they brought me food.”

“Hood?” Gaz asked, handing over a bottle of water to you, expression mostly blank.

“And jesses,” you confirmed before taking a deep drink of water.

“We’ll make sure there’s a light on for you,” Price said, before anyone else could say anything. Which was honestly for the best - you didn’t think you could talk any more about what had happened just yet.

“You should go back to sleep,” you murmured, setting the water bottle down and scratching Soap’s scalp again. “Too early to be up.”

“Hm.” Price tipped his head, looking at you. Then he huffed softly. “Stubborn.”

You only had time to blink before he was settling back in with the rest of you, getting comfortable. The nest was big enough for all of you, because you’d made sure of that, but still.

You didn’t think anyone would manage to get back to sleep, especially with the light on. But they surprised you - Gaz snored gently against Price’s ribs, while Soap used your hip as a pillow. (He always made the oddest choices.) Price didn’t sleep, but he did close his eyes and relax.

Simon just kept you close, his steady breathing helping your own.

Your pack didn’t quite hover the next few days. They did, however, take rotating shifts making sure someone stayed with you. Simon nudged you into the pack room every night. Gaz had pulled up a nightlight from somewhere, the soft yellow light always left on now. They didn’t let you feel ashamed of it, either, though shame still tried to wiggle into your brain.

Things weren’t okay. Wouldn’t be okay for a while. But they were getting better.

Except for your wings.

You managed not to think about it most of the time, focused on staying human and getting through the worst of the aftereffects. Sure, it wasn’t conventional torture, but it was almost worse.

Things finally came to a head when the rest of the pack shifted, Gaz and Soap racing outside immediately, growling playfully at each other. Ghost followed, more placid, looking at you once over his shoulder.

Price stopped in front of you, the bear easily able to meet your gaze. You knew that if he stood up straight on his hind legs, he’d be much taller than you.

“No.” Your smile was small and tight, pained. “You go. I’m not shifting.”

His head tipped, fuzzy little ears flickering back towards the open door and back to you. He grunted softly and nosed your ribs gently.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll come out for a bit.”

Satisfied, he huffed and went first, lumbering out the door. You followed him, briefly squinting against the light before you adjusted.

Gaz and Soap raced across the open space, occasionally trying to trip each other or jump over each other. Soap even got bold enough to bite Ghost’s tail and run for it, angry cat hot on his tail and gaining fast. Price found a nice sunny spot to watch and make sure they didn’t actually go overboard.

Pretty normal. Except for you. You stood stiff and still, watching them and making no effort to join. It was… too much. It wasn’t their fault, or yours. The only people responsible were dead.

None of them looked when you slipped back inside, as quietly as you could. You had one more thing you needed to do, and you needed some privacy to do it.

Your room was far enough from them that you didn’t worry about being found immediately. You carefully took off your clothes, folding them on your bed. One deep breath. Two.

You could do this. Hell, you’d been doing this since you were a child. Nothing would stop you now.

You shifted between breaths, braced for… something. But nothing happened. You didn’t immediately panic.

Okay. So far so good.

You spread your wings carefully, flapping them a few times. You could just see your reflection in the mirror. Your beak was just as sharp, your crest still upright. Bits of downy feathers stuck up from a lack of preening, but you ignored the vague feeling of wrongness. You had something more important to fix.

Your primaries had all been cut on your right wing. Not just some of them. All of them. It would take months for them to molt on their own. Months of being grounded, being flightless, being useless.

The soft, mournful sound ripped free from your throat, and you flapped again. You could hop, maybe get a bit of air. But you couldn’t fly, not like this.

Unless…

No. No, that was a terrible idea.

Except that it wasn’t, really, a terrible idea. The longer you stood there, head tipped, staring at your clipped feathers in the mirror, the more sense it made.

One last deep breath in and you dipped your head, tipping your wing to make it easier. It took a little shuffling and a little preening to get the right feather in your beak.

The first one came out cleanly, a few drips of blood accompanying it. You dropped the shaft to the floor, not giving yourself time to really feel the pain. You just did it again. And again. And again.

Until the floor was littered with blood and snipped feathers, the red stark on the black and white banded feathers. Your wing burned and ached, throbbing in time with your heart, and your chest heaved with your panting, beak open. You felt almost dizzy with it, mind gone blank.

“Sweets?” The panicked yell made you blink and cheep softly, though you didn’t move yet. Your door was unlocked. “Sweets, I smell blood.” Gaz hit the door a moment later, nearly tumbling inside when the door opened easily. He froze when he spotted you, anguish twisting his features. “Oh, Sweets, what did you do?”

You chirped at him, turning carefully, keeping your right wing flared.

Gaz knelt in front of you, ducking down to examine where you’d pulled out your feathers. “Doesn’t look like you’re still bleeding,” he murmured, almost absently preening your feathers. “But why–?”

You chirped at him and picked up one of the feathers by the shaft, showing him the cut end.

“Cut?” He frowned, gaze darting between you and the small pile of feathers, before realization hit. He swallowed hard, rage like a dark thundercloud. “But why pull them?”

You chirped softly, dropping the feather and hopping closer to him. You were not designed for flat floors, dammit, you were designed for trees!

“Do you wanna shift?” Gaz asked, frowning a little at you.

You shook yourself. Now that you’d shifted, you actually felt a little better. Still kind of awful, because you couldn’t fly, but you didn’t feel quite as raw.

He huffed. “Course not,” he agreed with a wry smile. “Can I help you preen?”

You chirped softly again, ducking your head under his hand. He took it as permission, which it was, and began combing through your feathers gently.

“Gonna have to talk to one of us eventually,” he murmured, hands gentle over your injured wing. “Can’t put it off forever.”

You clicked your beak at him and stretched, gently preening his hair. He huffed but allowed it, muttering something about you being a menace.

Gaz ended up letting you perch on his arm as he walked back to the pack room. Price huffed at your wing, gently pulling it to get a better look.

“Did you do this or did they?” His voice was calm, but you knew your alpha. He was not calm.

You chirped softly, looking to Gaz to answer for you.

“She pulled ‘em, but they were clipped.”

“Ah.” Price blew out a breath, fingers gentle as he checked your secondaries. “Force ‘em to come in sooner?”

You chirped a soft affirmative.

“Gonna need to eat more, then.” The look he gave you told you this was not an argument you would win. So you didn’t fight.

You let them take care of you and fuss (not too much), and you just worked on being better.

It took time, but the worst of the nightmares faded. Pitch black still bothered you but it was manageable, rather than panic attack inducing every time.

Things got better.

Your feathers still hadn’t come in yet, but you could be patient a little while longer. You could feel the itch where they were forming and growing. Good enough.

Your first op was supposed to be an easy one. Well. As easy as anything the 141 took on.

You, Price, and Gaz were clearing one building while Soap and Ghost cleared another. It was… not easy, but routine.

Until you stumbled over one man Gaz missed.

The man was in the back of the room, laying low. You probably wouldn’t have spotted him except a bit of light fell right on a very familiar feather. The black and white banding could, hypothetically, have been from any number of birds.

But you knew.

An angry snarl twisted your lips, and you stepped intentionally into the room, barely remembering to call to Price over your shoulder, gaze locked on your target. Your gun was steady on him.

He watched you right back, one hand reaching for a weapon from a fallen comrade in a way he probably thought was stealthy.

The bullet you planted between him and the weapon disabused him of that notion.

“Where did you get that feather?” you asked, voice low and growly. If you weren’t so focused, it would have startled you to hear how furious you sounded.

He looked up at you and grinned, front two teeth missing. You jerked back, body recalling more vividly than your mind the sudden darkness that had followed that grin.

“Easy,” Price murmured from behind you, just to the side. Close enough to support you and take the shot if you needed, but giving you space to do it yourself.

You breathed in deep. And shot him. For many reasons, including not leaving an enemy alive at your back.

But bending down to pull your feather from his shirt was just for you.

“You broken?” Price watched you, giving you space still. Letting you decide.

You tucked the feather in your vest and smiled. “Not today.” You nudged him, tipping your head to rest against his shoulder for just a moment, before you started walking again. “If we finish up before Soap, he promised he’d buy cookies.”

Price’s chuckle followed you out of the room. Gaz called over comms that the building was clear, and Soap started swearing. He and Gaz went back and forth on the matter of the cookies, easy bickering in the middle of everything else.

You just laughed, knowing your pack had you. Always.

#shifter au #f!reader #reader x 141 #john price x reader #simon “ghost” riley x reader #kyle “gaz” garrick x reader #johnny “soap” mactavish x reader

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makethemhoesmad · 6 months

Text

i need you

azzi fudd x reader

shoutout to @cjrights and @iminlovewithpaigebueckers for being enablers

shoutout to ovulation

shoutout to my wonderful wife azzi fudd

nsfw and good luck guys

—

“come on baby, let’s go!” azzi tells me, opening the passenger door and holding her hand up to help me out. i roll my eyes, acting unamused, but the way she’s holding the picnic basket with three fingers has me thinking about those fingers in an arguably unsavory way. “stop drooling princess, you can do that later.” that tempts me to take her hand and let her pull me out of the car. she takes me to a blanket she obviously put down earlier, and sets down the basket. now that she has both of her hands, she puts both of her arms around my waist and tucks me against her. i pull us to the ground so i can lay down, feeling like my legs can’t hold me up when im so close to azzis perfect biceps.

“you like this baby?” azzi asks, nuzzling my neck. i don’t answer, i just turn to face her and rotate my hips, hoping she gets the hint. she does, making a face and taking mine in her hands. “is my pretty girl desperate for mommy?” i nod, trying to lunge towards her. she holds me still, shaking her head at me. “nuh uh. i set this whole picnic up for us to eat, not for us to fuck on the blanket. you can wait” i whimper as she moves us to a seated position, across from one another. she gives me a look, a look that tells me to calm down and be quiet. i try my best, knowing the reward i’ll get if i do what she says.

she starts removing food from the basket. i can’t even pay attention to what any of it is, only the way azzis muscles move. she opens a container of something, probably yogurt, and dips her fingers into it.

“oopsies, got some of it on my hand! could you clean it off baby?” before i can answer, she pushes her fingers deep into my mouth, drawing a muffled moan from my lips. i suck on them eagerly, desperately.

“good girl, cleaning me up. i’ll bet you wish my fingers were somewhere else thoughâ€¦”

i bob my head up and down at her words, hoping she’ll do something. instead, she takes her fingers out of my mouth and feeds me a piece of a sandwich. my eyes nearly roll back, just from that. she grins.

“so good, doing what mommy told her to”

that nearly pushes me over the edge. i move next to azzi, leaning my head heavily onto her shoulder and pressing kisses to her neck. she lightly wraps her hand around my throat and pulls me off.

“do you need me to take you home baby?”

i nod, pressing harder against her, “yes, please. i need you”

she tosses all of our extra things back into the basket and stands up, pulling me with her. she guides me back to the car, hand resting on my ass. i’m ushered into the car, forced to be separated by the control center. azzi reaches her hand over and puts it not on my thigh, but in between them, ghosting over my clit.

“don’t cum.” azzi states, putting the car in drive and starting down the bumpy road. my mouth falls open as her fingers rub against me. i close my eyes and try to focus on anything, everything besides the woman sitting next to me. the drive is short, but i’ve been left waiting. we coast over a pothole, and i cry out.

“shh, darling, you’re doing so good, so good, just wait a little longer”

“i can’t,” i groan out. azzi looks at me, flushed cheeks and sweaty brow, then pulls the car over. she climbs out, then opens the door on my side. she pulls the lever that moves my seat, and pushes it all the way back. she takes ahold of my skirt and yanks it down. when she glances at my dripping pussy, her pupils widen.

“you’re so wet for me pretty girl, so perfectly wet for mommy”

i moan as she makes contact with my pussy. she laps at me like she’s a starving woman, and i wouldn’t have it any other way. i feel my climax quicker than i have in a while.

“az, im gonna..”

i’m cut off by a rush of pleasure through me. my eyes roll back into my head, and i tighten my legs around azzis head. when i come down from my high, azzi sits up and climbs over me to the drivers seat and restarts the car. she begins driving at an extremely illegal speed, obviously eager to reach her apartment. i’m unbuckled, slumped against the seat, unaware of anything besides the hand im holding. i don’t even notice the car had stopped until azzi is pulling my skirt up and lifting me out of the car. she brings me up to her room and flings me to the bed.

“you didn’t think we were done yet, did you?” i shake my head, back in my own head now. azzi grins, “good. now sit on my face” i don’t even have time to do it myself when she is lifting me onto her mouth. i plant my knees on the bed on either side of her head, holding some of my weight to myself.

“listen pretty girl. i said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it. if i don’t get your damn pussy in my mouth right now, i’m going to lose it. sit the fuck down and be a good girl for mommy”

i move my knees, then turn myself so im face to face with azzis clothed pussy. i move the underwear down her legs, nearly losing all focus when i feel azzis lips around my clit. i instantly do the same to her, relishing the vibration of her moans through my core. i work her until i feel her start to falter, then i feel her come apart. that sets me off, and i climax on azzis tongue for the second time today.

“perfect, perfect, pretty, beautiful, amazing girl. you’re doing so, so good for me, i know you can handle one more.”

i whimper into azzis arms as she pulls me to a seated position on her bare abs.

“last time baby, grind yourself on my abs. you can do this��

she helps me start moving, jostling my hips up and down, putting friction on my still sensitive clit.

“good job pretty lady, keep going for mommy”

i press myself harder onto her, feeling the knot form in my stomach. tears start to fall from my eyes as a cry out, “too much, it’s too good azzi, please, please, please,” i say like a prayer, not sure what i’m begging for.

“cum for me princess, be a good girl”

i sob through my climax, head lolling and eyes rolling. i slide down azzis stomach, pressing my face into her neck, still crying.

“shh, shh, it’s okay beautiful, you did so amazing for me, so perfect”

i can feel her wiping us off, but the only thing i can focus on is hiding my face in the crook of her neck. i feel her kiss my head, then wrap her arms around me.

“i love you so, so much. i’m gonna marry you someday”

#azzi fudd #azzi fudd x reader #smutty #hahahahaha

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luimagines · 4 months

Text

Four Loving Hours

Another comission!

They asked for Four going out with Reader and maybe getting a shy first kiss in. I tried my best to oblige. <3

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Four took in a deep breath and tried to straighten his hair out once more. He was nervous but excited.

You had finally agreed to spend some time with him. He really wanted it to be a date but he wasn’t about to push his luck when it took him more than the usual amount of courage he could muster just to ask to get you alone.

He also pulled down and straightened his tunic and tried to be as presentable as possible.

He left his house with high hopes and a picnic basket.

Walking through Castle Town only serves to heighten his anxiety. What if he messes up? What if he makes a fool out of himself? What if he ruins any chance he might have had with you? What if he makes himself look like such an idiot that you laugh at him and then the whole town knows just how much of a loser he is?

Four finds himself at your front door.

His thoughts make him think that this is a dumb idea. It halts his hand right as he’s about to knock on the door. He should leave. He should just call it off. He can send a message later saying that he didn’t feel good and if you both can reschedule.

The doors opens

“Oh!” It’s your mother. She smiles brightly before he can say anything, and calls back into the house. “Honey! Link is here!”

“Thanks mom!” You call back from the beyond.

Four gulps quietly and smiles back at your mother, wanting to make a good impression despite the fact his name is a household name at this point. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing her for a little bit. I’ll have her back before sun down.”

Your mother’s smile seems to widen and she steps back. “It might be a while before they come out. Do you want to come inside?”

“No! No! I’m ready, I’m here!” You cry out before he can respond. You kiss your mother on the cheek before ushering her back inside. “We’ll be safe and make good choices and come back before you know it. Ok, goodbye!”

Your mother laughs but closes the door behind her.

Four feels a little dumbfounded. He had prepared to answer her but he wasn’t prepared for the way you sent yourself flying out of the house just to see him. He didn’t think you’d be this excited about a small picnic by the lake.

Unable to process the very abrupt cut to the social interaction he was having, he glances over your apparel while you straighten yourself out as well. You’ve put more conscious effort than usual into your hair, and he doesn’t think he’s seen that shirt before. Is that new?

There’s a slight floral scent in the air now. Did you put on new perfume too?

Four feels himself blush a bit. At least he wasn’t the only one who wanted to look nice for this. “I like this.” He gestures to you. “I could get used to more of this.”

You cough and get a delightful shade of pink dusted over your features. You even bless his ears with a small giggle, albeit a confused one. “You just gestured to all of me.”

“Yes.”

You gulp, brightening into a scarlet red over your features.

Four feels like a total dork as he holds out his free arm. “Ready?”

You bite your lip deliciously and slip your arm in his. “Yes. I’m ready.”

Four grins and begins to lead the way to the lake, ignoring all the stares that come his way. He hopes that you’re not too bothered by it. He didn’t stop to think about the gossip that will no doubt sprout from this.

“I hope you’re hungry.” He says in the lull of silence, wanting to distract from the fact that the people are no doubt watching. Four wiggles the basket in his arm to bring your attention to it. “I think I packed enough food to feed a small army. So feel free to eat as much as you want.”

You snort and shake your head. “You always do this. I promise you, I get fed enough at home as it is.”

Four bites his lip and tilts his head away from you, trying (and failing) to play innocent. “Let me do this. I don’t cook enough as it is.”

“Oh, so I’m your guinea pig?” You tease. He finds it in himself to relax as he answers you. “Of course! Dad won’t let me in the kitchen otherwise. Something about how blacksmiths only work with one type of stove and are a risk to burning down the house.”

You laugh a little more. “I’ve always liked your dad. But isn’t your grandpa a blacksmith as well?”

“Guess who’s not allowed in the kitchen either.”

You laugh louder, more carefree and Four forgets his anxieties just for a little bit. He smiles with you, taking in your radiance and brilliance. Beautiful. You’re beautiful. There’s no other word for it. Four can feel his breath get stuck in his throat, feeling content to simply watch you.

Before he realizes it, you’ve both reached the lake in the nick of time. He’s quick to set up the blanket and get the food ready while you’re busy admiring the scenery as the light becomes more moody. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here at this time of day. It’s beautiful.”

Four pauses and looks back towards you, no doubt with a love stricken look on his face. “I’ll try to bring you out more often then. The world is beautiful no matter where we find ourselves… We just have to look at it.”

You hum and look back down at him, sitting down without much thought to your movement.

You kiss cheek and he stills.

Four can feel you grow a bit nervous from his reaction, or lack of one if he had to be more honest with himself. His heart begins to shoot in a rapid fire in his chest and he forces himself to look up.

You seem to regret your actions fairly quickly. That just won’t do. “Sorry! That was a little uncalled for, wasn’t it? I didn’t mean- I’m sorry. I should have at least asked.”

“You missed.” Four blurts.

“What?”

What, indeed! What on earth possessed him to say that?

Four meets your gaze head on, willing the blush off of his face so he can keep it straight. “I said you missed.”

You seem to fluster even more and lean closer, even as you struggle to meet his eyes. “Did I?”

Four leans closer as well, not entirely sure where he plans for this to go. “I’m sure you did.”

You gulp a little, mirroring him subconsciously. “And where was I supposed to kiss you then?”

Four bites his lip once more and he notices that your eyes dart to the small movement. His confidence begins to grow more by the second. “I can show you.”

You lean even more and he can feel the way your nose brushes against his. “Show me?”

“Will you let me?” His voice drops to a whisper.

“Always.”

Four closes the distance. He’s not sure what to do, but he’s quickly aware that you don’t either. He doesn’t try to think much about it and simply lets his emotions and desires guide him, hoping that it’s at least a nice experience for you.

Your lips are soft against his and it makes him smile. A hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other rests at the back of your neck, pulling you deliciously closer.

The food has all been forgotten at this point.

Four can feel your hand come up and snake their way into his hair as well. He can feel the slight tug and follows the direction you give him to deepen the kiss as it is.

He has to pull back a little to take a breath. While he was aware that a kiss could be breathtaking, he didn’t think he would literally forget to breathe during said kiss.

“Link.” You’re just as breathless and Four finds himself tucking away the way your voice sounds for a future experiment. But for now- “Much better.”

He kisses you again because he still can, and pulls back to reach over for some of the food he brought. He refuses for it to go to waste. “Here. Try this. It’s your favorite cake. Or at least an attempt at your favorite cake.”

Your breath catches and he hears your voice squeak, but doesn’t comment on it. “You mAde all of this?!”

“Of course.” Four sends you his most charming smile, handing you the plate of cake anyway. “I gave it my best shot but don’t be afraid to tell me if you hate it.”

“...Link, I don’t think I can eat all of this.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do this again.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu four

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Text

Picnic

Part of the florist!reader universe: part one, part two, bonus

You looked down at the sleeping form in your lap, fingers tracing delicately over sun-warmed skin. Harry’s eyes were closed, his long hair curling around his cheeks and temples. This close to him, you could see the eyeliner from last night he still hadn’t managed to wipe off smudged around his eyes. He looked calm, peaceful. So unlike the broody rock singer you’d come to know.

It came as a surprise to you when Harry fell asleep on your lap. Today was the first time in a while where you and Harry were able to spend some time alone together. Between your busy schedules and him having to care for his goddaughter often, there wasn’t much time left for just the two of you. You didn’t mind, of course, you loved spending time with Lucy and seeing Harry perform at his gigs, but you liked these stolen moments too.

And Harry could be so private sometimes, so quiet about his feelings. You knew he never meant anything by it, but he definitely held back when it came to physical affection. You respected his boundaries when it came to affection, but it was nice to see him take initiative, to know he felt comfortable enough to rest his head in your lap and sleep for a while.

You invited Harry to your little cottage for a midday picnic. He’d been busier lately, writing new music and taking care of Lucy, so you thought it would be a good idea to do something stress-free and simple—a small picnic in the field behind your house. You set up your soft blanket—the one you crocheted a couple years ago—under a tree, not wanting to completely bake under the sun. There was fresh bread, cheese, juice, and chocolates packed up in your basket to snack on; you used to picnic by yourself often, but you could get used to having company under the tree behind your house.

Ever so delicately, the pads of your fingers traced the angular planes of your boyfriend’s face—the bridge of his nose, his sharp cheekbones, all the way up to his hair so you could run your fingers through it. It was soft and silky, a sign that he took good care of it. Harry’s music and stage presence was on the grungier side with his chipped nails, ripped jeans and smudgy eyeliner, but he had very good hygiene. He even had his own detailed skincare routine (though you were pretty sure that his goddaughter was behind that).

Harry’s chest rose and fell heavily as he continued dozing, his nose slightly pinched with red from being in the sun for a couple hours. He looked so serene. Like an angel, you thought. Sun-dappled skin, a smattering of freckles, and eyelashes that curled perfectly and graced the tops of his cheekbones. Leaning down, you pecked Harry’s forehead, his skin warm. Your thumb brushed over the spot you kissed affectionately.

You left Harry alone for a while, reaching for the book you brought and read it as your hand continued to card through his hair. It was the perfect moment, and you weren’t sure it couldn’t get any better.

As you read, however, you spotted the small bouquet of wildflowers you picked as you and Harry walked out to this spot. Unable to help yourself, you set your book down and nabbed a couple flowers. You pulled off the stems one by one, nestling them into Harry’s hair as he continued to sleep, completely unaware.

By the time Harry blinked his eyes open, little wild daisies covered his hair. He squinted up at you, eyes still bleary with sleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” you said.

Harry’s nose scrunched up. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Maybe an hour?”

“Oh. Sorry. Was supposed to spend the afternoon with you,” he said. He began to sit up, but before he could, you put a gentle hand on his chest.

“Wait! You look so cute, let me take a picture,” you said, quickly looking around for your phone.

Harry grumbled, but stayed put like you asked. You were pretty sure he was saying something about not being cute, but the way he rubbed at his eyes made you want to pinch his cheek.

Not wanting to move him quite yet, but also wanting to be closer to him, you set your phone down. Harry met your gaze curiously, patiently waiting for you to speak. He did that often, letting a comfortable silence grow between you until you gathered your thoughts enough to say what was on your mind. And when you did, he mostly just listened, though you never got the feeling that he was ignoring you. “Sorry, you don’t have to listen to me ramble,” you found yourself saying once. But Harry simply shook his head, a small smile on his face. “You don’t have to apologize. I like listening to you.” And that was that.

“Can I join you?” you eventually asked him.

“Course. You don’t have to ask.”

Grinning, you shuffled until you were laying beside him on the blanket. You rested your cheek against his chest, which was warm from being in the sun for so long. You weren’t sure how he was able to stand the heat in all black, but you rarely saw Harry in anything else. It was always funny to you because he came off so cold and grumpy, but he was the biggest softie there was. He might’ve had tattoos running up and down his arms and on his neck, and his nails might have been painted black, but only because his goddaughter painted them while they played “spa.”

Your hand reached below his shirt, running the pads of your fingers along his skin gently. Harry’s stomach tensed beneath your fingers, but only a little. He hummed and settled deeper into the blanket, almost leaning into your touch. Scooting up until your face was in the crook of his neck, you began to pepper his skin with kisses. Your lips sponged against his skin gently; no nipping or pressing particularly hard, you just wanted to feel him.

“This is nice,” Harry murmured, his hand coming up to rub your back gently.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy,” you replied, not moving away from him.

“Try me.”

You took your time answering, preferring to just kiss his neck some more. From the curve of his jaw all the way down to the base of his throat, you kissed him, smiling when his breath hitched in certain places. Stoic as he was, you’d come to learn all of the little places that made Harry gasp and groan and arch. It was a treasure hunt you were happy to go on.

“Sometimes I just want to kiss you. Like all over. And I don’t necessarily want anything out of it, I just…want to kiss you until I can’t breathe. Is that weird?”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” he said. His eyes were closed as he spoke, but he suddenly tilted his head toward you, and you found yourself staring right into his eyes. His gaze was still a little sleepy, though they squinted the tiniest bit with mischief. “There are parts of me that are feeling a little left out, though.”

Harry ran a hand through your hair, his lips curving up into a smile as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You knew that look. It was the one that always made you feel like you and Harry were on an even playing field. You were definitely more expressive than he was, which meant you vocalized and showed how much you liked him more than he did. You knew he cared for you, he just expressed himself differently than you did, which you were fine with. Harry often cooked for you, he always held your hand if you were on a date, he texted you first thing in the morning and right before you went to sleep—even when you had just been on the phone with him for hours—because you mentioned that your last boyfriend never did, and one time you caught a glimpse of his phone and saw that there were three heart emojis next to your name, even though you knew he didn't really use or like them.

But it was this look, the one he made just before he was about to kiss you, that brought you the most peace of mind, except for the excitement at what a kiss from Harry might lead to. To you, that look said it all. You felt it right down to your toes. I’m so in love with you, he seemed to say. At least that was how you interpreted it. You hoped that was how he read the look on your face.

Harry leaned in, and you were right there to meet him. His curly hair tickled your nose and chin, but the sensation was nothing compared to how his lips felt on yours. Kissing him felt like magic, like the first day of spring. It was true that Harry didn’t always express how he felt about you verbally, but when he kissed you, there was no doubt in your mind. He kissed you like he was desperate or starving, like the rest of the world fell away and you were the only two beings to ever exist. His hand gathered the material of your dress, bunching it at your hip in a tight grip, his tongue caressing your lower lip, eager to feel yours against it. He made you arch into him, wrap your arms around his neck before dipping below his shirt in search of warm skin.

After a few minutes, Harry tried to pull away, suggesting that the two of you head back to your cottage, but you clung to him even tighter, kissing around his jaw until you found the spot that always turned him to mush and sucking on it.

“No? You want me right here?” he asked, his eyes closed as you continued to nip and suck all over his neck. Your lack of response was answer enough for him. Grinning, you pulled him back down over you, and Harry was more than happy to oblige.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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dexlexia · 1 year

Text

picnic - ace x reader

pairing: portgas d. ace x reader rating: 18+ summary: Ace was a good boyfriend, even if he wasn't the best student at the local university you both attended. He was the kind of guy who had tattoos, a big smile and often carried around his skateboard. tags: university au, picnics, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, fingering, gentle love making

Ace was a good boyfriend, even if he wasn't the best student at the local university you both attended. He was the kind of guy who had tattoos, a big smile and often carried around his skateboard.

He was mostly laid back and enjoyed the sunny days rather than going to class. He'd often beckon for you to join him but you'd chuckle and tell him that some people had to attend class to stay in the scholarship program.

But sometimes, that dazzling smile worked a little too well and you'd end up cutting class. That was one of those days. It was near the end of spring semester, the sun was out and Ace brought you on a hike through the expansive woods behind the university. You carried a basket of food and he carried a large blanket.

You two had been dating for almost six months and he wanted to do something special before you went back home for summer. He was going to miss you as he was a local to the area, twelve weeks apart felt like forever.

The sun shined through the thick foliage which left patterns on the path you followed towards the location Ace picked out for you. He helped you down a small slope towards a large patch of dirt near the small river that flowed through the area.

”Here we are.“ He smiled as he laid the blanket out onto the ground. He then took the basket from you and sat down happily. He kicked off his sneakers so he didn't get dirt all over the blanke he spent forever cleaning.

You put the basket down and sat across from him, you kicked off your shoes and sat in a way that didn't hike up the simple sundress you wore. Ace looked at you with such love, the smile reached his eyes and he looked so content in your presence.

”I'm going to miss you when you go back home.“ He said as he leaned over and opened the basket. He pulled out a wrapped sandwich that he made, ”I hope you don't miss me too much.“

You smiled and leaned forward to give him a peck on the cheek, ”How could I ever forget someone like you, Ace? I'll be back here before you know it.”

“I know, I know. It's just hard, I'll be working with my brothers' this year so that'll keep my hands busy.” He chuckled as he took the cling-wrap off the sandwich, “Was hard enough making the food for today, Luffy was all over me.”

You chuckled, “Of course he was, that guy is a bottomless pit sometimes. I'm surprised he hasn't maxed out his credits for food from the dining hall.” You searched inside of the basket to find what else Ace made.

Ace laughed, "He's gotten close a few times, but usually his friends bail him out.“ He took a hearty bite and sighed happily. The two of you enjoyed your little picnic. But the peace didn't last long.

Ace was a handsy guy, he loved to feel your body up against his as he caressed your skin. He loved when you'd stretch and your shirt would roll up or if you wore a dress and crossed one leg over the other.

He thought it was quite arousing. Even when he walked you to class, he kept a hand on your lower back and he always wanted a kiss goodbye. So being all alone in this large forest, Ace was going to take advantage of his lovely girl's soft skin.

First he got closer, he ran a hand up the side of your thigh as he leaned over for a gentle kiss. He smiled right before his lip touched yours before he dove in. Then his hand moved higher and raised up your skirt. You made a small noise and he chuckled against you.

“Ace.”

“No one's around for a good while. No one could hear you scream.“ He grinned down at you as he laid you down on the blanket.

You reached out for him and placed your hand over his face, ”You sound like a serial killer, honey.

He barked out a laugh, “Yeah and I'm going to eat your liver too!” Before he dove in for another passionate kiss. His lips were warm against yours, his hands roamed under the skirt of your dress and gripped your ass.

“Oh, no, Mr. Ace, don't eat me!" You giggled before you pulled him in for another kiss. He was such a carefree lover, it wasn't that he didn't take your relationship seriously. Just being with him made it easier for you to relax.

So much of your life had been focused on grades, so to just have a moment to relax and have fun was greatly appreciated. He was so gentle with you, he was the kind of lover who looked like a total bad boy but had this heart to him that made you melt every time.

He pushed the skirt of your dress up and licked his lips in want. Sadly, he didn't have time for his favorite past-time but that could always happen in the dorms tonight.

Oh, he was going to miss you so much while you were gone. To be so far away for so long made Ace's heart ache. But he trusted you while you weren't able to see each other. Of course he trusted his baby girl! There were very few people he trusted with his life and you were one of them!

He knew that sex in a forest wasn't the most comfortable so like the gentleman he was, he took off his t-shirt and put it under your head. He wanted his girl to be comfortable. Any proper man would want that for their partner.

You kissed once more, his lips felt amazing against yours. It was bliss kissing your beloved Ace. He was such a good boyfriend, you were so lucky to have him. He was dedicated and loving, yet goofy and care-free, he loved life and he loved you. He wanted you in every way he could have you.

The kiss deepened as Ace trailed a hand across your clothed pussy. He reached into your panties and began to pleasure you. He took pride in the soft noises you were making into the kiss as his fingers trailed along your clit.

”You like that don't you.“ He said, ”You like it when I play with you like this.“ His voice was hot in your ear as he continued to rub you. You placed your face into his neck and let out staggered breaths.

You kept your legs open and allowed him to soon sink a finger into your pussy. You moaned quietly into his neck and he chuckled softly. He was slow and deliberate.

”That feels so good.“ You moaned into his neck as he continued to play with your pussy. The feeling was exhilarating, you never thought that you'd ever do something like this in the woods.

He kissed at your neck lovingly as you moaned softly. His body was so warm against you as skilled fingers moved in and out of you, you felt on cloud nine as he continued to pleasure you so lovingly. He was that kind of boyfriend, always putting your needs above his own even in cases of pleasure.

You leaned up and captured his lips and kissed him so lovingly as his motions continued in between your legs. You moaned softly, keeping in mind of not being too loud, after all people often hiked through these woods.

It was almost romantic. It wasn't long before you felt yourself on the edge of climax, you moaned into the kiss as you tightened around his fingers. You held onto him tightly as the kiss continued, this felt euphoric.

Your breathing was heavy as he parted the kiss and laid a kiss on the top of your head. He rubbed your clit gently and you held back a loud moan. This felt amazing. You couldn't believe it and with a few more strokes of his fingers, you came around them.

You soaked his digits as he brought you to climax in a heightened sense of pleasure. You rested against him as you started to come down from the high, it was amazing. You couldn't put it into words.

But Ace wasn't done, his cock strained in his shorts. He took his hat off so it didn't fall off halfway through sex and he laid you back down on the blanket with his shirt cushioning your head.

He flipped up your dress once more and pulled your panties down to your ankle and he stroked himself gently but with a strip grip. Pre-cum bubbled at the tip of his impressive cock.

He looked down at you lovingly as he got between your legs, he made you hold the bottom of your dress up so he had total access to your sweet sex. His face was flushed and warm as he slipped his cock all the way inside of you with one thrust.

You covered your mouth with your hands to not make so much noise. The stretch felt amazing, it was a slight twinge of pain that made your heart race. The fact he was able to fit so snugly inside of you made you feel warm all over.

He started to move as he held your thighs up, your ankles over his shoulders as he thrusted deep inside of you, he wanted every last millimeter inside of you, he wanted to know that only he could have full reign of your sweet pussy, only he could fill it this well.

”That's it, baby girl.“ He whispered, ”You make me feel so good, you have no idea. Your body was meant for me, and mine was meant for you. I love you so much.“

”“I love you too, Ace." You responded as he kept moving against you. His thrusts were strong but slow, he wasn't trying to make you scream. He'd save that for tonight.

He licked his lips at the sight of you under him, you looked so good. You were his precious baby girl. Of course he thought every face and movement you made during sex was just amazing. It was such beauty that he didn't know what to do with himself.

”Fuck, I love you.“ He said a little louder as she marginally picked up the pace. You felt his hard cock hit up to your deepest parts, it was like he was in your stomach with the amount of force he was using.

”Ace.“ You whispered.

The sun shined through the thick foliage as you and your lover had sex in the woods. The spots of sunlight through the leaves made Ace's tanned skin glow. He looked like an angel, an angel you adored.

Ace held back moans to not draw attention to the both of you, but his breathing was ragged. His pace had a rhythm to it, he was keeping focus on your sweet body as he thrusted up into you. A sight to behold, he thought, you looked amazing.

He leaned in for another kiss as he felt close to his own orgasm, he breathed rapidly through his nose as he held the kiss. He gripped onto your thighs and thrusted his hips into you. His cock made a fine home inside of your sweet sex.

You moaned into the kiss as he hit a sweet spot. You held onto the blanket under you as you got close to your own orgasm. The feeling was overwhelming, even though the sex was quick between you two. He deepened the kiss and gripped onto your thighs as he finished inside of you.

You arched your back and moaned, with another hard thrust you came as well around his cock and you soon relaxed onto the blanket with an achy hip from being held like that for so long.

Ace pulled out and pushed your panties back up over your hips and laid down beside you. You helped pull his shorts back up as he laid down beside you, letting you cushion your head under his arm as you spooned in the afternoon light.

He peppered your face with kisses like the loving boyfriend he was. He was so attentive that way, so loving in a way you couldn't explain. You were going to miss him over the summer but come fall, you'll be back together.

Maybe before the snow comes, you'll have another picnic just like this.

#portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace smut #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #ace x you #one piece ace #ace #dexlexia writes #one piece x reader #one piece smut #op smut #op x reader #op fanfic #op x you #reader insert #anime x reader #one piece

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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Keith clenches the flower crown in his hand, breathing heavy. The delicate petals of the not-daises crumple and crush in his fists, blue pollen smearing on the leather of his gloves. Half of the crown sits perfect, intact, unblemished and unbroken. The other half is miserable and unfixable, destroyed by something bigger than itself. He stares at it, hard, at what it is and what it represents, until his eyes sting from the dryness and begin to blur.

“Lance, I —” His voice comes out raspy, crinkled as the flowers. He swallows. “I’m never really going to — to love you. You know that, right?”

Lance’s quiet humming never stops, never hesitates. He continues to carefully poke the not-daisies onto their stem-string, building another crown, a new one, just as beautiful. “I know.”

Keith frowns. “You…know?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why do you…” He glances down at the crushed flowers again. Suddenly he wants to straighten them, desperately, fix their bleeding creases, their crumpled pieces. He tries, a little. He takes a broad petal from the biggest of the delicate flowers and smooths it against his thumb, again and again, trying to fix the brokenness. The crease disappears, but the petal lays flat against his skin; translucent, soaked with its own oils, bending to the shape of the pad of his thumb. It droops when he peels it off, worse than before. He feels something gentle touch on his head, a barely-there weight around the crown of his skull, and he smells something floral, aside from the flowers, like shampoo. Lance settles again beside him, second flower crown gone from his hands, now searching for a long enough not-daisy stem to start a new one. There’s a lump in Keith’s throat.

“Then why do this? Why —” He sweeps his hand out, broadly, gesturing the the not-daisy field before them, gesturing to the picnic blanket and the basket of food, gesturing to the castle in the distance, to the room they’ve shared more often than not lately, to their lions, to them, to them, to them. “Why do you hang out —” his voice cracks on the term, the blasé-ness of it, the fib, the hiding from the truth, the softer word to replace the truth — “with me like this? Why do you spend so much of your time with me? Alone? Why do we do what we —” He stops for a moment, finding himself short of breath suddenly, more feeling than the situation calls for crashing down on him at once, crushing his windpipe, making it hard for him to breathe, harder to speak. “Why do you stay with me like this, if you know?”

“Well, because I love you.”

He does not hesitate to say it. He does not swallow harshly as if the words are acid in his throat, as if they are too heavy to be spoken aloud. He says it easily, steadily, wondrously, as if it’s painless. As if Keith had said it first, and he’s simply responding. As if it’s something he says often. As if the words were not hard to find, were already heavy on his tongue, as if it was easier to say them then to lock them behind his teeth, choke them down. Maybe they are, for him.

Lance picks his head up from where it was hunched over the not-daisies, tying off the chain and lifting it, resting the crown gently on his own head. Coronating himself, with soft flowers, with the strength of a thousand men. He flicks his gaze to Keith, then, brown eyes wide and soft and glassy, slightly, shimmering in the orange sunlight, dark despite it, heavy and light alike. His expression is open, earnest. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

Keith doesn’t understand him. He knows Lance, knows how things eat at him, how small rejections build and build from the centre of his chest down his spine and wrap around each of his nerves, lighting him up inside. He’s seen how the doubt shapes his words, reshapes his sentences, clouds his thoughts. He’s seen how Lance pulls away from people before they can pull away from him. He’s seen the same ache in the Blue-turned-Red Paladin that he has, the same black hole in his own chest; the pain of the one left behind.

How is it so easy, then, for him, to say — it?

Keith holds his gaze, heart pounding, breathing short and shallow, as long as he can, as long as he can bear. He is the one to look away, in the end, and Lance soon after, looking for yet another long-stemmed daisy. It is only then that Keith realises that his second crown is crushed, too, in his other hand, stained with oil.

“Reason enough,” he echoes.

Lance hums affirmatively, absentmindedly lifting his legs and placing them on top of Keith’s, casual. Keith can’t tell if the move is deliberate or not, if Lance is genuinely oblivious to the intent of Keith’s sentiment or if he’s choosing to ignore it.

Either way it doesn’t matter. Lance slowly works his way through a good chunk of the flowers surrounding them, cheekily ordering Keith around the field, instructing him on what flowers to pick, how many, how often. Lance claims he just doesn’t want to move, but Keith is sure he just likes bossing him around. He organizes them in small piles by size as Keith gathers them, favouring the wider and fluffier ones, working with his tongue out in concentration as he carefully makes one, two, three, four, five more crowns than the two he’s already made, not including the two Keith destroyed. (Those were carefully scooped up from where Keith had discarded them, placed gently in the bottom of the picnic basket. Lance hadn’t said anything nor had he made any particular face, except that there was determination in his eyes as he held the crumpled flowers, defiance, almost, as he lovingly placed them among their used dishware and leftovers.)

Once he finishes the last knot — one crown for each team member, plus one to hang on Shiro’s doorknob — he swings his legs off Keith’s lap, sighing as he gets to his feet. Keith sees a sliver of brown skin as he stretches, a flash of his hip as his shirt lifts with his raised hands. It is the same temptation it always is, although it makes Keith more nauseous than usual.

“C’mon, you lump,” Lance says, holding out a hand. “I call dibs on not carrying anything back to the castle.”

Keith stares at his offered hand for a moment. He gets the same feeling in his belly that he used to get before walking into his final exams. Like he is being tested, like he is unprepared, like he is going to fail.

He stands on his own, quickly busying himself with gathering up their blanket and basket.

He follows just behind Lance as they walk through the field, back to the castle. They take their time — no one else will be back yet — and Lance stops every three seconds to coo at a beetle, take a picture of a plant, draw a heart in the dirt. Keith finds himself smiling without permission, struggling to school his face when he realises.

Keith has never met someone who is so unapologetically himself. He knows Lance has struggles, knows he doubts himself more than anyone on the team, probably. But so much of him is just a blatant adoration for the world around him; an obsession with the stars, an affinity for speed, an ataraxia in water, a blatant delight for any critter. He loves so much so often he bleeds with it. Keith has no idea how he survives, how he protects himself. It terrifies him. How is he supposed to protect Lance if Lance refuses to wear any armour? If he flays himself open and trusts everything and anyone? It’s as if he hasn’t yet learned to be wary, even though he has been hurt. Keith cannot fathom how he’s like this, how he’s survived like this.

Later, that night, he lies awake and counts Lance’s breaths as he thinks.

This wasn’t meant to last.

He doesn’t mean that they’re doomed to fail. They are, probably, the same way most things are (his mouth twitches on reflex as he hears Lance calling him emo in his head), but he hadn’t meant to start anything, with Lance. He doesn’t think Lance meant to start with him, either. He certainly never anticipated Lance, head pillowed on Keith’s chest, drool gathering on his ribcage, leg flopped over his and hand twitching in his face and hair. He never anticipated hearing his name muttered in Lance’s sleep, or watching him shoot up from a nightmare, wide-eyed and terrified, only to relax immediately back into sleep when he sees that it’s Keith who’s holding him. He never anticipated his own hands combing through Lance’s hair, his squeezing of Lance’s feet in between his thighs to keep them warm, his boots at the end of the bed, gloves on the nightstand. He never anticipated the way the smell of Lance’s shampoo would help him breathe again when he shoots straight up in terror and forgets where he is. He never anticipated the softness, the quiet smiles, the feel of his nails on his back, the press of his lips to his neck, the taste of his sweat on his skin, the breathiness of his hitched throat in his ear.

It started with a fight.

Of course it did, really. Why they were alone in the training room, Keith cannot recall, and why they turned to sparring with each other rather than staying at separate corners of the room he is at a loss. (Well, he does know. He knows he watched the litheness of Lance’s body as he bent and and contorted it and felt the swoop of his belly at his smug grin every time he landed a shot. He knows he watched sweat bead up on his forehead and drip down his face, burning a trail down his long neck. He knows he watched Lance bend over to set up shots, stretch, anything. He knows all that. But he thought he had restraint.)

He knows at one point they were snarling at each other, arguing over who had cost them a match with the gladiator, and then he knows that Lance had brazenly challenged him to a fight, and Keith had laughed in his face. He knows that they lunged at each other. He knows that he intended to give it to the smug asshole who had refused to leave him the fuck alone for even one fucking second since they got stuck in space. He knows he had Lance pinned to the ground, because Lance may insist that they’re neck and neck but Keith sure as shit had the upper hand in hand to hand.

What he doesn’t know is who kissed who. He doesn’t know who bit whose lip or who gasped or who shoved whose hand under whose shirt. He doesn’t know. He knows it escalated, he knows he felt fucking drunk on the taste of Lance’s skin, knows he felt like devouring every sound that came from that smart fucking mouth. He knows they didn’t even bother moving from the training mat on the floor.

He does know that he was the one who knocked on Lance’s door first, the next day. But when they fell into bed again Lance was the one who was prepped and ready, who opened the door within half a second and yanked him in by the collar, smirking.

Lance shifts slightly, muttering something as he turns his head. Keith freezes, barely daring to breathe lest he wake him up, waiting until after Lance has settled again, after he’s gone heavy on Keith’s chest.

In the beginning he’d convinced himself it was physical. Lance is objectively fucking hot, anyone with eyes can see that, and it’s not like Keith has any other fucking options here. But tonight, after everyone had split off after dinner and they’d landed in Keith’s room, again (is it really even Keith’s room, anymore? Lance’s hand is keyed to the lock. His products line the bathroom counter. His clothes are intermixed among Keith’s. He can’t remember the last time either of them had been in Lance’s room, let alone Lance by himself), as they always do. They’d gotten ready for bed without even talking, slipping in pyjamas and brushing teeth and running through a ninety four step skincare routine. They’d laid next to each other on the bed, Keith working through a random novel he found in the library and Lance breezing through some kind of math game on his tablet, before Lance had sighed some time before midnight, kissed him gently on the mouth, whispered “I don’t feel like doing anything tonight,” and then flopped on top of Keith’s person, wiggling until he was comfortable, passing out as soon as he was.

Keith’s hand curls around the curve of Lance’s shoulder.

Physical, physical, physical, he chants to himself. You have ruined every single person you have ever loved.

Lance groans slightly again, clicking his jaw.

“Keith,” he murmurs, accent heavy in his sleep. His lips twitch up in a smile.

Keith’s stomach turns.

———

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 7 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 3: The Summer Has to End Someday

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter three of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is occasionally described as "curvy." If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

**************************************************

Philadelphia 1935

"Sit still." You say, dipping your brush gently in the small pot of water at your knee, before stroking it through your paints and placing it against the pad of watercolor paper in your lap.

It was a beautiful day at Fairmount Park. Children ran across the grassy fields flying kites and avoiding the outstretched hands of their mothers, while couples lounged on blankets with picnic baskets overflowing with sandwiches and champagne. The sun was sending gilded light across the pond that gently rippled with the breeze that brushed through your hair, pulling it across your rosy cheeks that blushed under Ben's gaze.

It was your 16th birthday and despite your mother's insistence to take you shopping in the busy stores that lined the streets downtown, you had refused, choosing rather to come to the park and prepare your mind for the party that would follow this evening. You had already glimpsed the abomination of purple tulle that your mother expected you to wear and you hoped that a quiet afternoon in the park would wipe the monstrosity from your memory.

At least before you were squeezed into said dress later that evening.

"I’m bored." Ben stated, leaning back on his elbows where he was sprawled next to you in the lush grass that was no doubt staining the light blue dress that clung to your body. One you had chosen for yourself that accentuated the way you looked, rather than hid it as the other dresses your mother bought for you. However, when Ben came to pick you up this morning your mother had insisted you bring a coat, despite it being the middle of summer. You hadn't missed the flash of anger in Ben's eyes when she wrapped the coat around your shoulders to hide your curves. The same coat that Ben immediately removed when you walked out the door and threw over the wrought iron fence that surrounded the front of your home, before looping his arm in his to direct you toward the park.

"It was you who said you wanted me to paint you." You sigh, looking up at your friend.

Ben's navy suit jacket was open, the buttons of his matching vest and white shirt underneath strained as his muscular shoulders pulled against them and made your breath catch as your eyes traced them. There was a pale pink phlox flower in his front jacket pocket, one you stuffed there earlier despite the roll of his eyes. You had wanted some contrast between his suit and the color of the flower, and despite Ben's annoyance, he obliged you as he always did.

"I was hoping there would be less clothing involved." Ben grins at you.

"You know, no other gentleman speaks to me the way you do."

"I didn't know you considered me a gentleman y/n. I thought that you knew me better than that." His grin quickly shifts into a mischievous smirk that makes you bite the inside of your cheek and turn back to the page.

A year had passed since Ben got you watercolor paints and ignited a unquenchable passion for painting. Something about the way the colors ran together soothed you, the gentle stroke of the brush against the page calming the usual frustrations of your life.

One of which was sitting beside you, looking entirely too attractive for someone who'd just rolled out of bed and was wearing the exact outfit he had been wearing when he snuck through your window last night. This morning he had crawled out the window and rang the doorbell at the front of your home, acting as if he'd been up for hours.

You pause at the thought of last night. Ben was leaving for boarding school number seven at the end of the week, but the way he looked when he showed up the night before, rumpled and smelling of cheap whiskey, meant that he and his father had another disagreement. Despite his inability to talk about what happened, if it was your burden to bear, to always be there for him, you welcomed it.

"Hey." Ben's hand comes down on your arm to draw your attention back to him.

You look back up at him. "Hmm?"

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He turns his head to the side to examine you.

"Thinking about the party."

"Oh right. Should be fun. Can't believe I received an invitation. I thought your mother would have burned it-"

"She tried." You smirk. "I snatched it from the fireplace just for you."

"How thoughtful."

“Selfish really. There’s no way I’m going through one of those parties without you again.” You snort, catching his emerald gaze.

“The Christmas party was not that bad-“

“Says the guy who got drunk on eggnog and then preceded to flirt with a potted plant!”

“That potted plant was more interesting than that idiot How-“ Ben’s next words are cut off.

"Y/n!" You hear someone shout from behind you.

Howard Stine struts towards the two of you across the sidewalk, where a few other boys stand in a tight group. He’s wearing a sand colored suit and vest, with the chain of his golden pocket watch catching in the warm sunlight with each stride forward. At Howard’s appearance, Ben sits up from his relaxed position, leaning towards you.

“Speak of the devil.” You hear him mutter.

Ben nods his head towards the group of boys, who nod back in greeting. Ben was more popular than you. Your own circle of friends was reduced to Ben, your housekeeper, the gardener, and a handful of girls your own age that only wished to talk about how close you and Ben were and once they realized you were just friends, they then proceeded to ask you if you could set them up.

As if you would ever set them up with him, you were still trying to set yourself up with him.

A few of the group of boys you recognize as the sons of your father's friends and others boys you'd seen Ben stumble around with on the streets after a night at the bar around the corner. You watch Ben's left hand go to the flower in his front jacket pocket and crunch it in his fist before the others can see it.

The action made you smile to yourself, because despite Ben not wanting them to see him with the flower, he had still allowed you to place it there.

Howard blocks the rays of sun above you so that you don't have to squint up at him. He wasn't terrible looking. Howard was your height, with reddish brown hair that was slicked back over his head and he had a dusting of cinnamon colored freckles on his cheeks, but he was nowhere near as tall or broad as Ben. Where Ben was muscular, Howard was lanky, his hands small and sweaty. Ben moved with a grace and elegance that you couldn't comprehend, while Howard plodded along, stumbling on solid ground. Howard's pointed chin was nothing like the strong jaw of Ben's rugged face. Something that you studied whenever Ben was with you and you spent several nights devoted to capturing in your sketchbook.

"Hi Howard. How are you?" You smile at him, brushing back your hair from your face with your free hand.

Howard's eyes move from Ben to you, taking in your close proximity. Ben's hand was still touching your arm, and the tip of your knee an inch away from the outer edge of Ben's thigh. In fact, Ben had leaned towards you so close when Howard came over that his breath rustled through your hair.

"Good. What are you doing?” Howard moves a hand through his hair to tousle the reddish waves.

“Ben is obliging me. It’s a beautiful day and I wished to capture it.” You wave the brush in your right hand for emphasis.

“Ah.” Howard squints at the watercolor paper. “Well it’s certainly interesting. I didn’t know you liked to paint.”

“She likes all kind of things Howie.” Ben responds with a smirk, his voice dripping with suggestion.

Your eyes flash a warning to where Ben sits. He’s withdrawn his hand, but he’s still leaning close enough to you that you can smell the spicy scent of his shampoo and cologne.

It reminds you of this morning when you woke up and realized that Ben had pulled your back into his chest while he was sleeping. When his arm was curled around your waist as he buried his head in your hair and muttered something in his sleep that you couldn’t understand. The thought makes you flush bright red, remembering how wonderful and intimate it felt to be there.

Howard ignores him. “We're all going to go to Wallman's on the corner for shakes, I was wondering if you wanted to come?" He doesn't acknowledge Ben.

“Well-“ You begin to say, taking in the beauty of the pond and your paint stained hands.

The truth was you didn’t want to go, you wanted to sit there in the grass forever with Ben, where you couldn’t tell if you were warm because you were under the golden light of the sun or under Ben's gaze.

“She’s busy.” Ben says before you can finish your sentence.

Howard’s smile becomes tight. “I think I was asking her.”

Ben shrugs. “And I think I just gave you an answer.”

"Why don't you just-" Howard begins, but Ben is already up off the ground, pressing his chest against Howard's, his green eyes blazing in the light of the sun.

"Why don't I just what Howie?" Ben's voice is low, the deep rumble stirring something in the pit of your stomach.

You loved a lot of things about Ben, but his temper was not one of them. Ben rarely lost his temper with you, yes you did annoy him and he would lose his patience, but he often turned that anger into teasing.

"Ben." You stand, leaving your watercolor pad on the ground, so you can place your hand on Ben's shoulder. It was supposed to be a gentle reminder. Ben knew that you were more than capable of making your own decisions, but you couldn't help but wonder why Ben had responded the way he did.

Is he jealous?

Ben looks down at you with a frown, but finally he sighs and takes a step back.

Howard's eyes are narrowed at where Ben now stands to your right, Ben's arms crossed over his muscular chest, but Howard's gaze shifts back to you expectantly.

"Howard that's really sweet, but it's getting late and I have to get ready for the party tonight." You force a giggle to ease the tension in Howard's shoulders. "You are coming right?"

"Of course." He smiles. "I was hoping that you'd save a dance for me."

"She-" Ben begins to say, but you elbow him in the side, hard.

"Of course I will."

“Great. I guess I’ll see you tonight.” He frowns one more time at Ben before turning back to the group of boys on the sidewalk and leaving with them.

Ben stands there for a minute watching him go.

"You should try to be nicer to him." You say, tugging on the sleeve of Ben’s jacket to grab his attention.

"Why?" Ben snorts.

"Because-" You shrug. "He's sweet and he’s interested in me. I’d hope that you two would get along.”

Ben rolls his eyes. "You could do better."

"Last time I checked the suitors aren't exactly lining up. Not to mention you tend to scare them all off." You wave a hand around you for emphasis. "And I'm not getting any younger."

"Neither am I, but you don’t see me settling for Howard Stine.”

"I didn't realize he was your type." You snort rolling your eyes at him as you sit back down in the grass and pick up your painting again. "I haven't seen you courting anyone recently."

You try to keep the happiness from your voice at the thought. Ben hadn't been trying to chase after as many girls in the past few months as he had previously. And you wondered if his father was trying to arrange him with anyone. If Ben’s mother had still been alive you knew that she would have found someone suitable for Ben, but you’d heard your father say something to your mother behind a closed door that Ben’s father had asked about one of the daughters of his work colleagues.

The thought makes something in your chest tighten to the point of snapping. You hated the idea of watching Ben court someone else, watching someone else kiss him, run their fingers through his hair, and hated the thought that Ben would spend the night with someone else other than you.

Of course when he spent the night with you, all you did was talk, but it was possible that Ben might find that sense of companionship with a lover rather than you.

And then where would you be? Alone.

Ben reclines back as he did before, shaking his hair out behind him, and closing his eyes. It's lighter in the sun, more of a honeyed brown than the usual oak. "I leave in a week."

"Hasn't stopped you in the past." You mutter more to yourself than him.

"Maybe nothing has caught my eye." He opens one eye to study you.

"Hmm."

“Or perhaps I’d much rather spend my last days of freedom with you.” He flirts with a wide smile.

“Last days of freedom?” You laugh, ignoring his tease. “We both know you’ll probably be back within the month.”

Instead of laughing, Ben’s smile fades into a frown and you wonder if he’s thinking of his father.

“Ben I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

Ben shrugs it off and pulls out a silver flask from his jacket pocket. As soon as he opens it, the sour smell of whiskey floats through the air before he takes a swig. He holds it out to you, but you wave it away, focusing back on your paper.

"So if he's the one, why didn't you go with him to Wallman's? You made up a bullshit excuse that you had to go home." Ben takes another pull from the flask, but you can't shake the shift in his tone.

"I wanted to finish painting." You say to avoid the truth, that you didn’t want to leave him, because you could tell he was still upset over whatever he and his father talked about last night. “But I do need to go home. Mother is no doubt waiting with a horde of maids to make me presentable.”

You frown to yourself imagining next few hours where you would be slathered in creams, your hair tugged and swept up over your head, your body scrubbed almost painfully, and finally the corset that would cut off your circulation and make it impossible to breathe.

You wondered if any other girls your age were subject to such torture.

“Just admit it y/n, you find Howard as boring as a sack of flour.”

“He’s from a good family, he’s a gentleman. My mother would be pleased-“ You start to say, defending Howard even though you didn’t like him as much as you liked Ben.

“Your mother would be pleased with a cactus as long as it meant getting you out of her sight.” Ben snaps back.

His sharp words sting against your skin and you drop your eyes to the paper again, welcoming the silence that follows. Because he was right.

Your mother thought you were a disappointment. She had started comparing you to your sister-in-law who was flawless, effortlessly beautiful and graceful. Your mother voiced her disapproval many ways with disapproving looks, snide comments on what you wore, how you looked... It wasn’t for lack of trying. You did whatever she asked but each time it was never good enough for her. You weren’t enough. And it was something you kept close to your heart. Ben knew that better than anyone.

That’s why his words hurt so much.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry-“

“It’s okay.” The tears that burn in your eyes smear the image of the page in your lap.

“Y/n please look at me.”

You don’t raise your head. “I should go. She’ll be mad if I’m late-“ You begin to put away your things.

Ben’s fingertips come to your chin, tilting it back to look at him once more. He looks sorry. His green eyes are paler now, like clover, wide and open, his mouth pulled down into an apologetic frown.

“Please don’t go. I’m sorry. Just stay a little longer.”

You sit there for a moment, his hand cupping your cheek and as a tear falls Ben brushes it away with his thumb. The gesture is gentle and surprising. Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but this was more intimate. It made your breath catch.

“Okay.” You whisper.

Ben relaxes and drops his hand from your face, but he’s still watching you. You know he’s trying to think of something to say to make you feel better, but when he can’t come up with anything, he reaches over and plucks another flower from the bush on his left, before stuffing it in his front jacket pocket.

It enough to make you smile and this time he returns it, understanding that he's been forgiven. You allow the warmth of his gaze seep into your skin and you bask in the warm glow of his smile.

***********************

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