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mordoriscalling · 3 years ago

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Seeing Him For the First Time Again

In which Geralt, when waking up after tonsil removal surgery, suffers from temporary memory loss. The stunning stranger at his bedside claims that they're married. Geralt has trouble wrapping his head around it.

A little addition to the Singer and the Sailor series, but can be read as a stand-alone. Inspired by this video. Also available on AO3.

There’s a cacophony of sounds around him but he doesn’t fully process the noise. He only knows that he’s had tonsil removal surgery. His throat sure hurts like it. His head is heavy, his mind fuzzy, it’s all wrong. He wants it to stop.

His thoughts go directly to his mouth as he mumbles, “I need medicine.”

From the right, there comes a beautiful, mellifluous voice.

“They’re bringing you some,” it says.

Startled, Geralt looks to where the words came from and –

His breath hitches in his throat and his heart skips a beat; there, right at his bedside, sits a vision.

The man is not just a man. He must be an elf, or a fae, or some other inhuman being. His face is straight out of a fairytale, and his eyes are so wide and blue. He could be an angel, with those eyes, but his body – strong neck, broad shoulders, chest hair – invites Geralt to sin.

Why would someone like this be here, watching over him?

“Did the doctors send you?” he wonders. With mouth-to-brain filter absent, he adds, “You’re eye candy.”

The otherworldly creature laughs – which is such a gorgeous melody – but god, his smile. His smile is the Sun itself.

“Wow,” Geralt breathes out. “You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, thank goodness Yenna isn’t here,” the guy replies, grinning. “You’d say that to her instead if she were.”

“Yenna?” Geralt echoes. The name feels familiar on his tongue for some reason. “Yenna... Yenn... Yen...”

“Yes, Yen,” the stunning stranger chimes in. “She’s visiting you with Ciri later.”

He’s somehow sure that he knows Ciri too. The next moment, he realises that Ciri and Yen are important. He feels it down to his very bones. Why? That escapes him, even though -

This train of thought is cut off by a snicker. Geralt looks at his bedside angel once more. The surreal man is holding... something, in one of his hands. It’s a really beautiful hand, as if an artist carved it from marble. The whole of him is like an artwork. He must be widely admired, with such compelling facial features and those eyes.

“Are you a model?”

“No,” the stranger denies.

That doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s so pretty. He’s pretty like a... like... somebody. He’s certainly someone. Geralt needs to get to know him.

“Who are you?” he asks. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Jaskier,” the man introduces himself. “I’m your husband.”

“You’re my husband?!” Geralt gasps in shock, not believing his ears.

“Yeah,” the model-but-not-a-model – Jaskier, yes, that name suits him – confirms.

“Holy fuck!” he exclaims, smiling, his chest fit to burst with joy.

Jaskier chuckles so beautifully again and Geralt closes his eyes, savouring the sound. Then, a wave of nausea hits him and he can’t really focus on anything. When it passes, Geralt turns his head back to the vision at his right. His husband. That’s so incredible. And serious. They could be parents, even.

“Do we have children?”

“Depending on how you look at it,” Jaskier explains, “We have between zero to two kids.”

Geralt frowns, dumbstruck. How do you have between zero to two children with someone? He’s quite sure that having children with someone doesn’t work like that. Having children starts with... kissing... and then... Wait.

“Have we kissed yet?” he asks.

Jaskier throws his head back, laughing with his whole body. Geralt’s breath is taken away again.

“We’ve kissed a lot, darling,” Jaskier answers.

“Is that what we call each other? Darling?”

“We call each other many names, dearest.”

Suddenly, there’re many thoughts at once running through his mind. Something about “Lead me, dearest”, sirens and sea. Yes, sea, he knows that too. He knows that he knows many things; he isn’t young. But since when has he got a husband?

“How long have we been married?”

“Three years,” Jaskier replies, smiling warmly.

“Fuck yeah, I hit the jackpot!” Geralt cries triumphantly.

Jaskier is his husband. He’s his. His to love, his to touch –

“Let me see your face,” Geralt says as he reaches out to cup Jaskier’s cheek. Turning his husband’s head to the side, he gushes, “Your profile is perfect!” Then, he loses the strength to touch Jaskier, but that’s all right. He has another idea. “Turn around.”

“No,” Jaskier objects with a delighted giggle.

Geralt pouts. He just wants to see if Jaskier’s ass is as perfect as the rest of him. Not that he doubts it. Wouldn’t hurt to check, is all. Checking up facts is good.

“We’re married!” he repeats with wonder and his husband nods. “Oh fuck.”

Jaskier only laughs again and tells him to settle down. Geralt, being a good husband to his surprise husband, listens. Still confused as to how he got so lucky but overjoyed at the fact nevertheless, he drifts off to sleep.

***

Later, as the anaesthesia starts wearing off, Geralt’s memory returns, dispersing his confusion. Slowly, all the pieces fall into place:

Jaskier is not a model, but a well-known singer, who Ciri was a fan of as a teenager.

Jaskier and Geralt got together after they pretended to be engaged and actually pulled it off. They have been together for six years now.

Geralt and Jaskier call each other a sailor and a siren. “Lead me, dearest, to the coast of tomorrow” is engraved on the inside of their wedding rings.

Technically, they don’t have children together. Geralt has Ciri with Yennefer. Jaskier is Dara’s guardian. Yet, Ciri and Dara are inseparable like siblings, and Jaskier and Geralt treat them as such.

Jaskier and Geralt also have a dog and a boat. Both are of the same name.

As a retired Royal Navy commander, Geralt finally has enough time to cherish his family. He often takes care of his nephew - Eskel and Essi’s son - Nao. He does that especially when Eskel is deployed, just like Eskel used to help him with Ciri. Lambert and Aiden help Essi too. So do Yennefer and Triss. And Jaskier and his sisters with their families. Plus Ciri and Dara. And Vesemir. Jaskier’s parents as well. Really, Nao, at two-and-a-half, might already be the most spoiled child in the world. Not that he minds. He loves the attention nearly as much as he loves Jaskier’s niece, Zofia. Zofia and Nao are so adorably taken with each other that no one can quite handle it.

All in all, Geralt’s life is just so good.

“I really did hit the jackpot,” he says after they return from the hospital.

“No, my heart,” Jaskier replies, “I did.”

Then, they kiss, and the anaesthesia incident is happily forgotten.

Or so it should have been.

The reality is this: at a family gathering a week later, it turns out that Jaskier recorded the whole thing. He shows the video to everyone. Geralt has never been simultaneously laughed at and called “precious” so much in his whole life. In fact, he never wants to hear the word “precious” spoken in his vicinity ever again.

More or less fleeing this predicament, Geralt takes Roach (the dog) and goes to hide on Roach (the boat) for solid three days. He wants to stay there longer, he tries to be mad, but then Jaskier appears with an apology song.

Geralt thinks to himself he’s a rather shitty sailor, unable to resist a siren’s call.

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #modern au

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amjustagirl · 4 years ago

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CHAPTER 1 - TAKING FLIGHT

Fic Summary:

The sky Oikawa Tooru’s heart seeks is a world away from the earth yours is buried in. You are a fool to trust him with your heart anyway.

Where Oikawa Tooru does not make it to Argentina straightaway.

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

Icarus, Icarus, I must be blind not to see you long to touch the sun.

Updates every Monday

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x you, Oikawa Tooru x fem! reader

Genre / Wordcount : Angst (5.6k words)

Warnings: One non-explicit bedroom scene

Masterlist link here!

Join my tag list here!

“Home sweet home ”, Tooru declares grandly, throwing his hands out with the air of a conqueror bursting with pride at the sight of his domain.

Never mind the fact that the apartment looks like it’s been hit by a tsunami of cardboard boxes and scattered bits of furniture. Or the fact that you’re covered in sweat and grime from lifting boxes and shifting furniture and you’d very much like to lie down and not get up for the next week or two, but you can’t because of the never ending list of things to be done - unpacking your belongings, filling in your enrolment paperwork, attending medical school orientation to attend.

But his words wash away the tide of anxiety lapping at the edges of your mind.

Tooru wept and gnashed his teeth when his parents refused to let him chase his dreams to Argentina, and not a single professional team in Japan even looked his way. Don’t be ridiculous, his parents told him with wagging fingers, especially when Chuo University sent a full scholarship his way.

“It is the top school for volleyball” you pointed out, as he spent yet another hour lying flat on his back, eyes swollen from spent tears. “You could go there and grab everyone’s attention by being their starting setter for the next four years.”

He does not respond. You wonder if he’s waiting for the paint on the ceiling to crack.

“Plus” you add slyly. “I’ll be at Chuo with you.”

This catches his attention. “What d’you mean”, he mumbles, throat still sandy with salt.

“I got into medical school there”, you tell him , the smile on your face growing when he finally hurls himself bodily at you, both of you toppling off the bed and onto the floor.

“You’ll be there with me?” he whispers in disbelief.

You laugh wetly into the crook of his neck. “Every step of the way”, you declare, slipping your hand into his.

You’ve both transplanted yourselves from your childhood home in Sendai to a tiny apartment in Tokyo, a veritable hole in paper thin walls. Your hearth is a pair of rusty iron hobs, and your bed is a cheap mattress on the floor, but sunshine spills in from the windows like liquid gold and Oikawa Tooru’s hand is warm in yours.

You wonder what you’ve done in your past life for the gods to smile down on you, to bless you with a boy you love in a place you can both call home .

You’re not usually this sentimental, but just this once, you tug him down towards you, stealing a kiss from him. “I like the sound of that”, you murmur against his lips. “Our home, Tooru”.

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “Do you love me?” he asks, with a smile that cages your beating heart in his calloused hands.

You are young. You are eighteen. You know nothing of the world. You know nothing of life.

So you reply - “More than life itself”.

He kisses you with languid ease, stealing the very breath from your chest. You tell yourself you have four years to work up the courage to ask if he loves you as much in return.

“Medical supplies are expensive, so stop coming here to ask for cold presses that you don’t need”, you tell Oikawa Tooru, Captain of the Volleyball Club and currently a veritable pain in your ass for constantly hounding you during your shifts at the school’s sickbay.

You resist the urge to sigh when he throws himself onto the cot, groaning dramatically - “How mean! You and Iwa-chan are the same - brutes, all of you! What’s a guy gotta do to get some tender love and care, especially when he’s injured?”

You cast a doubtful eye at the bandage over his right knee. “Iwaizumi said you recovered, but I guess if you’re really still injured…”

Oikawa grins, sensing victory in sight. “So you’ll give me a cold press and let me rest here during class?”

You drop said cold press onto his knee none too gently. “Sure - though..” your voice trails off, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “That would mean you’re not cleared for practice. I’ll send a note to your coach.”

Gotcha.

It’s your turn to grin when alarm dawns on Oikawa’s face, his eyebrows pinching together as he waves his hands at you, pleading you not to mention a word to his coach - pretty please with a cherry on top, he forgot to do his homework cos he was staying up late to watch volleyball videos last night and needs a place to hide, and you’re the kindest, bestest, person on earth if you let it slide this time, his knee is fine, just fine -

You glare at him, unimpressed.

He pouts, with the largest puppy dog eyes he can muster. Even you are not immune to his charms.

“Fine”, you say flatly. “Just once.”

He thanks you, promising never to darken the doors of the sickbay again without cause.

Of course, he breaks his promise the very next day when he sidles in just before practice, dropping a milk carton and a bun on your table.

“An offering to the maiden of this shrine” he answers teasingly in response to the question in your furrowed brow, trying his best to exude arrogance and saunter off, though his efforts are defeated by the pink tint to the apples of his cheek.

Oikawa Tooru, huh. You wonder.

You and Tooru are drawn into the ebb and flow of university life. You wake up with him by your side each morning, kiss him on the cheek before you both head your separate ways. In a fit of fancy, you imagine that your front door is the portal to different worlds - a little like the enchanted door in Howl’s Moving Castle, a movie Tooru used to make you watch with him on repeat. When you step through it, you find yourself in the humdrum world of medical school - anatomy classes, stuffy professors, scalpels and knives. Whereas when Tooru steps through it - like the titular wizard, he bursts like a fiery comet into a wholly separate, magical world of whistles and drills and volleyball practices.

Your worlds never collide in the day, even though from time to time, you sneak into the gym to watch him practice, unbeknownst to him. Typically, you only see him at night. Dinners are prepared together, shoulders jostling over the kitchen counter to cook rice and produce sourced from the supermarket’s discount bin, before you both huddle over homework. More often than not though, Tooru prefers to spend all his time crouched over his laptop, earbuds on, watching endless streams of volleyball matches.

“Aren’t you ever tired of volleyball?” you ask when you see him analyse yet another video - Argentina versus Japan this time.

You already know the answer before your question leaves your tongue but you ask it anyway, amused when he squawks in indignation and knocks over your cup of tea in his hurry to exclaim - Sick of volleyball? Him, Oikawa Tooru? Never!

Of course, you knew that. Chuo University is the top collegiate team for volleyball, so the coaches demand nothing but the best from their players. You watch by the sidelines as Tooru grinds his body into dust at volleyball practice, coming home every night with sore tendons and aching bones. Balancing a full business course load on top of that would stretch anyone to their breaking point.

Anyone normal that is, because Tooru revels in his hectic schedule.

You attend his first match and you’re blown away by how much he’s grown from being transplanted from barren soil into rich earth. The unerring confidence he’s already shown in his high school days blossoms into an elegant ease. His athleticism grows by leaps and bounds, his game sense sharpens, his sets learn true grace.

He claws his way to a starting position with bloodied fingernails, in blatant disregard of anything that might stand in his way. He builds his own wings, starts to take flight, the light in his eyes shining brighter and brighter the closer he flies towards the sun.

He is no longer the simple school boy you fell in love with from Sendai.

“Will you go out with me if I win our next match?” he asks suddenly, lifting his gaze from the video he’s watching from his usual corner in the sickbay.

“Do I look like a prize for some school boy’s grudge match?” You snipe back, head bent over your homework.

“It was worth a try”, he hrumphs.

You hide a smile.

“I would go out with you even if you lose”, you tell him, though you do not lift your eyes from paper and pen.

A laugh bubbles from his chest - surprised, delighted, triumphant.

“I better make sure I win then. So you don’t change your mind.”

He did not win that game, losing spectacularly in the finals in his second year against his fated rival - Ushijima from Shiratorizawa, a specter that still looms unti over every match he plays in up to today.

True to your word, you sat on his doorstep, waiting for him to return home red eyed, throat raw. You let him drop his aching head into your lap, and like a maiden comforting a weary warrior, you pressed a kiss to his forehead as a balm to his wounds. Then you dragged him by the hand to your favourite ramen stall, ordering two bowls of tonkatsu ramen, with char siu, bamboo shoots, spring onions and gyoza on the side. An inauspicious first date, but you consider yourself lucky nonetheless for having him beside you.

Things are different now. You are blind not to see him long to touch the sun.

No one is surprised when Chuo University wins nationals. The only surprise to the media (but certainly not to you or anyone from Miyagi for that matter), is that Chuo University brings home the trophy with Oikawa Tooru as it’s starting setter.

The boy king finally reaches the national stage.

Even then, he is always, always grasping for more .

“You were amazing!” you gush, as he finally breaks through the triumphant huddle of his teammates to swing you into his arms and greet you with his customary kiss. “I’m so proud of you!”

His eyes glitter as he laughs, giddy with delight, face flushed with pride. “It’s just college, princess. Wait til I go pro”.

Like Ushijima, you think, though that name remains unsaid.

Wax feathers had already started to sprout from the knobs of his spine back in high school, budding beneath your fingertips like a cancerous tumour. Back then it was easy to be wilfully blind to them, but now it's become too obvious to be ignored. Oikawa Tooru’s ambition lies spread eagled, naked beneath the blinding lights of the sports hall. He has only just tasted his first real victory, crossed the first hurdle separating him from his dreams of greatness.

“I’m waiting for that day then”, you respond teasingly.

You only realise later that you lied. He's left the confines of your arms in his quest for the skies.

You laughed when Tooru first broached the idea of sneaking out at night to gaze at stars in the sky. ‘What nonsense’, you’d said. What are the chances of seeing stars amidst the light pollution from a city, even a relatively minor one like Sendai?

“You’re being a meanie, just like Iwa-chan”, he pouted. He kept whining until you gave in.

Tooru picks you up from your home past midnight, chuckling when you label his rusty bicycle ‘a contraption from hell’ and ask him archly whether he truly expects you to entrust your wellbeing to the tiny rack meant to function as the pillion’s seat.

“Stop being a princess, it isn’t as if I can magick a seatbelt from thin air” he teases.

“Howl could”, you point out.

“Well, I could strap you on with my bicycle chain if you prefer”, he answers blithely. “Get on, stop complaining”.

He pedals all the way uphill to the deserted park near school, whining all the way about the strain the extra weight (you) puts on his knees (lies, all of them). You’re torn between pointing out that he chose to drag you out in the middle of the night and kicking him off the bike and commandeering yourself home instead. You choose instead to slap the back of his head.

“Ow!” he squeals. “Brute!”

“Hmph”. You fold your arms in satisfaction.

When he finally finds a spot perfect enough to commence his stargazing adventure, he stops the back, spreads a picnic mat and hands you a flask of hot tea.

“I don’t see any stars”, you say, after fifteen minutes of sitting, stiff and cold in the dark.

“Don’t be impatient! The clouds will clear up soon”, he says, squinting hopefully.

The sky remains overcast.

You sigh, the breath expelled from your nose forming your own personal cloud. You are accustomed to Tooru’s quirks, his all consuming passion for volleyball, his love for all things outer space. You decide to indulge him a little, just once.

“Why don’t you pretend we can see the stars and tell me your favourite thing about each one?”

He brightens up visibly.

“You won’t be bored if I did that?”

You prod his nose, but your eyes are fond. “Have you ever bored me?”

His chest swells. “I suppose not”, he crows, and proceeds to trace the constellations with elegant fingers, spinning stories and conjuring random facts about celestial beings you cannot see. You find yourself enthralled, not by his words, but by the lilt in his voice and depth in his eyes.

“Why d’you love the stars so much?” you ask.

“Did you not just hear anything I’ve just said?” his voice teeters dangerously close to a whine.

You click your tongue against your teeth. “I mean – trivia and myths aside. Why are you so fascinated by what are essentially flaming balls of gas and light.”

“The shallow answer is cos they’re pretty.” He says, laughing airily, before turning his gaze to you, the stark intensity in his eyes causing goosebumps to prickle the back of your neck. “But if my lady here is searching for a deeper answer, well. Aren’t stars the ultimate embodiment of the dreams of all humankind? Even as we strive and fail towards our petty goals, the stars are always there to remind us to look up and reach for the sky”

You flick his forehead. “Pretty words, for a pretty boy”.

“Hey!” He scowls indignantly before he perks up. “Wait - did you see that? There’s a star!”

The sky clears just enough for a pale light to peer through a gauzy cloud. You do see it, and it is indeed beautiful, but your attention has already been captured by the boy beside you. And Tooru being Tooru, naturally notices.

“Why’re you staring at me instead of the sky?”

Perhaps you’re drunk on the magic of midnight skies, perhaps you want to uncover the mystery of his smile yourself. Perhaps that explains why your eyes soften and why your words fall short of a whisper.

“Because you are my sun, my moon and all my stars”, you say. “I like you better than anything in the sky.”

His mouth slackens and for a moment, his eyes are tender before his laugh breaks your flight of whimsy, and you bury your face in your hands, hot with embarrassment.

“Forget I ever said that”, you plead.

“Never!” he cries. “I’m going to remind you how cheesy you can be for the rest of your life!”

You end up having to kiss him to shut him up.

In his second year, Sakusa Kiyoomi joins his team. Tooru finally meets someone who meets his impossibly high standards to fill Iwaizumi’s place as his ace.

He’s literally bouncing on balls of his feet when he comes home after the first practice.

“He’s so prickly and unfriendly but his receiving his top notch, and his game sense is fantastic, and best of all the spin he gives to each spike makes me drool - especially when I see the look on the other side’s faces when they try receiving his ball for the first time - ha ha! ”, he talks at you at breakneck speed as you both prepare dinner, side by side at the cramped kitchen counter.

“Mmhm”, you reply, head thinking of the multiple lectures you attended today, the homework and readings you must do tonight to stay abreast.

“-it’s his wrists, they’re so flexible it nearly made me puke when I first saw him stretch them”, he continues for the rest of the night, heedless of your wavering attention.

You meet Sakusa at one of the few team parties you actually attend. You nearly stumble over him when you try to hide in your usual corner with a plate of food in your hand, watching as Tooru flutters around like the social butterfly he is. His nose and mouth are hidden behind a face mask, but even you can tell he’s uncomfortable to be around so many people, so you tug at his jacket sleeve gently to lead him away from the crowd to a seat at the top of the stairs.

You don’t expect him to speak much to you, if at all, but to your surprise, he initiates the conversation.

“He doesn’t take good care of himself”, Sakusa mutters. You nearly miss his words over the pulsing beat of the music.

“Who doesn’t?” you ask - though you already know who he’s referring to.

“It’s unhealthy, the way you push yourself”, you tell Tooru, hands on hips, standing at the door to Aoba Johsai’s sports hall. You hardly intrude here onto Tooru’s sacred space, choosing instead to stay in the library to study until he’s done with practice and you can both walk home together. But practice has long ended, and your patience has run short - not to mention Iwaizumi popped his head into the library to shoot you a worried expression, dark eyebrows pinched into a pained frown.

You are aware of Tooru’s predilection for working himself to the bone. Or to the shredded remnants of the tendon of his knee, to be more accurate. So you tap your feet, looking pointedly at said injury.

“I’m fine”, he tries to dismiss you without even looking your way.

You refuse to let him.

“You’re not fine”, you tell him coolly, taking another step towards the inner sanctum, the volleyball courts. White lines, painted into brown wood. A single ball, six per side, each jostling for their pride and god.

“Tooru -”

“I need to practice so I can win”, he snarls, handsome face mangled by an angry scowl. “Don’t be like one of those whiny girlfriends, you know I can’t stand that.”

You are not so easily hurt by the barbs in his words. “You can’t win if you’re injured”, you attempt to appeal to his reason. “You know and I know and your coach knows that that knee of yours is going to cause you problems if you don’t rest it properly. So you better listen to me, because so help me - I can tell you that you’re not going to be able to come for practice if you keep pushing yourself tonight”.

His anger simmers into a sulk. “You’re not a doctor”, he replies, a petulant whine at the tail end of his words.

“Not yet”, you respond, and at that, he laughs, surprised that your arrogance matches his own.

Your attention snaps back to the present when Sakusa calls your name. “Sorry”, you breathe. “Couldn’t quite hear you - who were you referring to again?”

“Oikawa”, Sakusa says, confirming your suspicions. “Practises even though I know his knee hurts sometimes”.

You thank him for telling you before carefully diverting the conversation to something a little more innocuous, buying yourself time to turn this new information over in your mind.

You hear him hiss as you open the front door- “Iwa-chan, don’t be stupid, I can’t tell her yet!”

It’s not an uncommon sight to come home at night to find Tooru cradling his phone to his ear whilst juggling a book in his other hand. It is the only time slot that he and Iwaizumi have to catch up.

Still, it is uncommon for him to bolt into the toilet the minute he catches sight of you.

“Is everything alright?” you ask him over dinner.

“Peachy”, he replies between spoonfuls of rice. “Never been better”.

He promptly changes the topic after that.

“Not staying home for dinner?” you ask, arms wrapped around yourself as he lets the chilly air into your apartment, sitting by the open door lacing his training shoes up.

“Wanna work in some more practice tonight”, he murmurs, gaze still locked on his shoes. “Serves and all that. Don’t wait for me, yeah?”

“Right. Just...promise me you’ll take care of yourself, Tooru”, you answer, unable to keep the disappointment from leaking into your voice.

He stands up, turns to face you with a cheery smile. “Of course I will. Anyway, don’t pout, princess”, he sing songs gaily. “We’ll spend some time together after the season is over, I promise.”

“Alright”, you say, unconvinced, reluctantly tipping your chin up to let him kiss your cheek goodbye.

“Tooru?”

You feel the mattress dip. “Go back to sleep, princess”, he whispers, pulling the sheets back up to your chin.

“Where are you going?” You mumble, squinting your eyes at the clock by the side of the bed. “It’s four in the morning. The earliest you wake up for practice is five.”

“I just wanted to practice my serves a little more.” You hear him rustle in the bathroom. Sakusa’s words echo in your ears, and you sit up, bleary eyed.

“Tooru?”

“Mm?”

“Are you taking care of your knee? And getting enough sleep?”

He stiffens. “Of course”, he replies with the tight, plastic smile he only ever gives you when he’s trying to lie. “Why’re you asking me this? Who put ideas in your pretty little head?”

For the first time in your relationship with Tooru, you take care not to accidentally tread on the faultlines of his heart.

“I worry about you”, you say, gripping your sheets as he frowns. “I don’t think you’re sleeping enough - judging from the bags under your eyes, and you shouldn’t be over practising because your knee could very act up - “

“Look - I don’t have time to deal with this” he interjects with a snap. “Just leave me alone and go back to sleep.”

“I’m only saying this because I love you, Tooru.” You automatically tack on - “More than life itself.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing out a sigh. “I love you too ok? Stop worrying your pretty head about my health and my knee - we agreed you only get to nag me when you’re a full fledged doctor, remember?”, he adds, with a cheeky smile that does not reach his hooded eyes.

You let him walk out of the house without another word, cotton sheets crumpling in your clenched fists.

You don’t get to talk about it that night because he chatters at you about Sakusa’s tantrum during practice because someone hid his towel, and you can barely get a word in before he slips off to shower and sleep.

He starts to disappear for days at a time, even after the season ends with him not only taking home his second trophy at Nationals, but crowned the best setter in the collegiate volleyball league.

He tells you that there are overnight practice matches and camps. That he’s staying over at his teammates’ flats. You believe him at first. There is, after all, no reason for him to lie.

Still, it is a little funny he refuses to allow you to do his laundry from those trips. You brush away your friends’ concerns that he’s cheating on you - Tooru wouldn’t do that, you assure them with a wide smile that hurts your cheeks.

Tooru would never lie to you.

Then you bump into Sakusa Kiyoomi on campus when Tooru is away again.

It’s night time. Shadows bleed into concrete roads. You’re on your way back home from hiding up in the library all day, reluctant to return to a home without Tooru when you bump into the reticent spiker.

“Aren’t you supposed to be away at practice camp?” you ask innocently, worried that an injury might keep him from playing, though from a quick scan he seems to be fine.

“Practice camp?” He echoes blankly, his face an open book of confusion.

“Tooru mentioned that he’d be away from some practice camp for a few days...”

Your words trail off. Your heart flutters, refuses to accept the truth staring you in the face.

Sakusa frowns. His answer is brutal, direct. “There’s no training camp - hasn’t been in a while”.

“Oh”, you murmur.

Realization needles its way into the space beside your beating heart, drills its way into the marrows of your bones.

“Are you ok?” You faintly hear Sakusa say. It’s your turn to lie.

Tooru comes home the next day, a quarter past two. You’re sitting on the threadbare couch cross legged, a textbook balanced on your lap.

“Where have you been?”

“Practice camp. Didn’t I tell you that?”

You scoff. The page held between your fingers starts to crumple. Your composure frays.

“Really?” Your voice starts to veer into hysterics, straight across the highway into your emotional stratosphere. “Sakusa Kiyoomi told me that there’s no such practice camp, Oikawa. How about you try again with the truth this time.”

He reels back. You can see him trying to formulate yet another lie.

“Princess”, he begins pleadingly, but your temper runs hot and you short circuit at the sound of your nickname from his lips.

You stalk towards him, grabbing the bag in his hand. Like a woman possessed, you wrench the zip open, holding the bag open above your head, emptying its contents out. Dirty clothes, a deflated volleyball, toiletries spill onto the floor. You comb through each and every item in search of a telltale sign - a lipstick mark, a woman’s floral scent, something, anything for you to confirm his infidelity.

What you find, however, is not what you expect.

A red jersey, lying limp in your hands. A contrast to the university’s colours of navy and white.

You flip it around.

The words EJP Raijin are emblazoned across the jersey in stark white.

You look up at him. He stares back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?’

He has the decency to look away.

“Tooru”, you repeat, voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I was afraid of what it meant. For us”, he answers, dropping to his knees in front of you. “You know I’ve always wanted to go pro - and when the Div 1 teams started holding try-outs, I had to go. I tried out for them all except the Adlers, and EJP decided to give me a shot, which was like a dream come true… But I didn’t know if you would be happy if I did take it up.”

“Take what up?” you echo. Your mind is not keeping up with this turn of events.

“Move to Hiroshima to join the team.” He answers warily, ready to flee at the first sign of danger. “You know I’d have to, right?”

You look at him with fresh eyes, this boy you profess to love more than life itself. Wings spread from his shoulder blades, moulded by madness and greed from fire and wax. The reflection of the sun gleams in his eyes. He has left you permanently for the skies.

“What about me?” Your breath stuck in your throat even as you refuse to relinquish the last hold you have on him.

“If you love me”, he begins, reaching out to cup your cheeks and it’s your turn to reel back because you know he’s about to throw back your own words in your face.

If you love me more than life itself - won’t you do this for me?

But you are no longer eighteen. You are twenty one, on the cusp of adulthood. You know a little more about life than you did at eighteen.

You know that your life is here - in Tokyo, among dusty books and lectures and tutorials on anatomy and diseases and germs, and you cannot upend your life and uproot yourself to Hiroshima just to follow someone else’s dreams. You love Tooru, but you do not share his dreams of glory and gold medals, of fleeting victory, of Olympian greatness.

“I can’t”, you say, with a firmness that surprises even yourself.

Again, he does not meet your eyes.

“Then what shall we do?” He asks, lips pressed into a straight line.

For a brief and terrible moment, you are tempted to throw your dignity to the wind, to fall on your knees and ask him to stay in Tokyo with you. But you can no longer turn a blind eye to what’s been staring you in the face for the entire length of your relationship, so you bite the insides of your cheek and grit your teeth.

“We will do what we must”, you tell him, your head held high.

You do not know what hurts more. The lack of pause in his acceptance to your suggestion that you break up, or the painfully obvious relief in his eyes.

He goes to sleep in your shared bed, oblivious to your pain. You do not join him, choosing instead to spend hours seeking privacy in your toilet, knees aching from the cold floor.

You are clinical, even in your anguish.

Wring the liquid grief from your lungs, lay it on the floor to dry. Filter the water from your windpipe, the salt from your eyes. Your organs are scattered on the floor, battered, broken, torn. Save for your heart - you will need to retrieve it, whatever’s left of it at least. You last recall seeing it beneath Tooru’s feet, dashed to pieces as he spreads his wings and takes flight.

You will put yourself back together with steady hands tomorrow, fill the cavity in your chest with the remnants of your organs, secure them in place with stitches and staples. Given time, you think your prognosis is good.

You are young. You will heal.

But now, you are allowed an hour or two to grieve at the very least. To mourn the loss of a relationship you still hold dear, a relationship that you only realise has an expiry date in the short span of a night.

You are a fool for not realising it sooner.

Perhaps he cares for you, but you must now confront the fact that you’ve been wilfully blind to. He could never give you his heart when he’s already given his heart up to someone else - to volleyball, a far more demanding mistress.

You cannot compete with her. You should not have tried.

Tooru files the paperwork to drop out of university. You find another flat, this time for one.

In the weeks before he leaves, you watch him flit about the flat, buzzing with excitement like an overgrown child. His wings nearly suffocate you with its ever increasing breadth and length, but you do not begrudge his happiness. You still love him desperately. You still want what’s best for him.

You write him meal plans, scribble reminders on the proper care for his knee. You help him label his boxes, arrange for them to be sent to Hiroshima via post. You do not tell him how tempted you are to slip yourself whole into one of them. But you start to build a cage for the remnants of your heart, turning a deaf ear even as it pounds against the bars of your ribs.

The time finally comes for him to get on a train bound for Hiroshima. The time finally comes for you to leave the flat.

“Princess”, he says softly, catching your elbow as you stand on the threshold, pulling you flush against his broad chest. You do not trust yourself to speak as he gently tilts your face up to his.

“Thank you”, he breathes against your lips. There is a lingering taste of regret in his kiss.

“For what?” you manage to ask.

His eyes pool with affection, swirl with sadness.

“For everything.” He takes your hands in his, presses a final kiss to your forehead. Your traitorous heart screeches at you to beg him to say. You smother it beneath reinforced walls of steel and bone.

Icarus, Icarus. This is goodbye.

You make him leave before you, watching as he turns his back on you. Then you steal a minute to potter through each room in the little flat that was your home. The bedroom, barely large enough for two. The bathroom, with a propensity for leaking, the shower where Tooru insists on serenading the neighbours, much to their discontent. The kitchen, full of memories of shared dinners, and quiet conversations.

You bid farewell to two full years of happiness, press your forehead against the front door to whisper goodbye to your home.

The lock clicks. You close the door.

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drymbp · 4 years ago

Text

jisoo as your girlfriend hc

How you met <3

sundays are meant to be spent in your room, while playing games, and having snacks. that's what jisoo's idea was.

but rosé had other plans. she wanted to check this dog café across han river, to buy her hankie boy some toys and treats.

jisoo had every right to say no, but the puppy eyes she had gotten from the latter had made it difficult for her to say no. resulting in her standing outside fur house.

however, looking right through the glass, she spotted you talking to kids, with a kind smile, probably about the puppy they were holding.

the more she kept looking at you, the more she felt this warm feeling.

and she wanted nothing but to get to know you better.

on the other side, you didn't know what fate had in store for you.

upon the bell chiming, you walked towards the door to greet your customers, but instead felt your eyes gravitate towards this certain brunette, kim jisoo.

How you became friends <3

jisoo knew she wanted to be more than friends with you, and she made it clear.

whenever rosé wasn't paying attention, she would stare at you, and would send you a smile everytime you caught her eyes.

to be honest, you were intimidated by her at first, but she had turned out to be the most humane human being you've ever met.

so when they had to leave, she had walked up to you with a sly smile.

"you like dogs, i like dogs, i think we're a paw-fect match."

a dumbfounded smile made it's way to your face as you examined the beauty, for any trace of humor. finding none, you nodded your head.

"so how about we bond over puppy love? there's a really good café across my company."

"only if I get your number in return, turtle rabbit kim."

What being friends with her is like <3

the both of you decided to not pursue a relationship. it just didn't cross y'alls mind once you got to know each other.

you guys are best friends who sometimes flirt.

random 3 am gaming battles is a must. nobody can stop gamer jisoo.

when you beat her ass in the game, she gets all sulky that you end up buying ice-creams for her.

y'all go out once a week, and have korean street food, it may be hard with jisoo's schedules, but she always makes time for you.

she has her soft side reserved only for you.

remember how she gets mad when the members disturb her when she's balancing the bottle on her head?

let's just say you're her favorite.

sometimes you join her to see who's better at balancing.

she would do everything to make you smile, and hates to see you cry.

she's your go to place for advices, hugs and comfort.

doesn't mean you don't do the same, whenever blackpink's schedules get too hectic or when she feels overwhelmed, you stay by her side, and get her through it.

you guys don’t really fight, both of you are mature enough, and understanding.

even if it gets out of hand, you guys walk away from the fight and give each other some space and talk it out the next day.

random nicknames, she once called you eongdeong-i (엉덩이 - butt) for a few days until you threatened to throw away her gaming console.

you're her #1 fan, whenever blackpink has a concert, you end up fully dressed in jisoo's merch from head to toe.

jisoo loves it and you know that, even if she doesn't say it out loud.

you guys are the typical best friends who would do anything for the other, but would get all cringed while saying thanks.

The confession <3

you guys were watching riverdale, and everytime there was a kiss scene, you could feel jisoo looking at you, more precisely your lips.

Smirking at yourself, you turn around, now facing her. "You know, you could just ask me for a kiss." Jisoo stares at you with her mouth wide open, clearly surprised by your offer.

"I-You? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?" She yells out loudly, making you go deaf in the process. You chuckle at her, while she takes in a deep breath, before asking for your consent one more time, "So, if I ask for a kiss, I'll get one?" You nod your head at her and scoot closer, thighs almost touching.

As you intertwine your fingers with hers, she closes her eyes anticipating the much-long awaited kiss.

"Took you long enough." You confess, before leaning in, and pressing your lips with hers in a gentle but full kiss.

What being girlfriends is like <3

the weird nicknames finally got promoted to jagi, love and baby.

likes calling you her girlfriend.

brags about you to everyone, even to lisa's cats.

y'all have each other's photos as wallpaper.

and an album which has meme worthy photos.

you guys have this weird challenge going on, to see who can click the most embarrassing photo.

oh! did I mention? jisoo loves wrist kisses, and does it often, and you get all shy, yet ask her to do it again because it's too soft.

would kiss you out of nowhere, this one day you were getting ready for a meeting, girlie came up, pulled you by your tie and pressed her lips onto yours. y'all kissed for a few more times, and you were late for the meeting.

loves holding you, hence the big spoon.

not much of a pda person, but likes having you near her, and if you're not around her, get ready to be attacked with cuddles later.

loves back hugs, especially when you're making dinner, she would come over and wrap her arms around your waist and just stand there with you.

doesn't stop gushing about how delicious your cooking is.

jokes about wanting to be your wife because of your cooking and you're like - where's the ring?

that gets her all excited, searches for the best ring, and promises to ask you out in a few years.

loves coming back to find you sleeping with dalgom. you guys fill her heart with so much love.

sends you random snaps of herself, or the place she’s at, including the trees.

you guys order chicken and just pull up an all nighter watching blackpink videos.

jisoo appreciation hours open.

you get all mushy when she speaks english.

you guys end up worn out by the next day. too tired to do anything, you guys order take out once again, and sleep the whole day.

unhealthy vibes.

after a long day, she’ll just fall right into your arms, and nestle her head into your neck.

your parents love her a lot, and often ask her about grandchildren.

and you're like - good god, shut up.

you buy her soft toys, since she tends to sleep with them when at dorms.

and she buys you souvenirs everytime she visits a country.

y'all don't get jealous with people.

jisoo gets jealous when you play with the dogs at the café and come home late.

and you get jealous when she practically ignores you because of a game.

but you guys make up with kisses and cuddles.

yet the next day, the same routine follows.

jkjk.

A/N : I decided to keep my headcanons this way, and I hope y'all like it this way. Thank you for taking your sweet time to read my work :)

#blackpink imagines #blackpink x reader #blackpink scenarios #blackpink headcanons #jisoo x reader #jisoo imagines #jisoo x fem #blackpink x fem #jisoo #kim jisoo #girl group imagines #kpop scenarios #bptwhp

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rocketmuse · 3 years ago

Text

I thought I'd share my playlist for the anniversary of the boathouse kiss. :)

Song translations, MANY thoughts, and timeline under the break.

Noise warning for song 19, Hinahanap-Hanap Kita. 4:23 to the end. Loud high pitched beeps.

YouTube music version to be made soon.

Translations for foreign songs:

Ewan [Dunno] — Apo Hiking Society — Filipino/Tagalog

Amour plastique [Plastic love] — Videoclub — French

Panalangin [Prayer] — Apo Hiking Society/Moonstar88 — Filipino/Tagalog

Hinahanap-Hanap Kita [I'm Looking For You] — Rivermaya — Filipino/Tagalog

This is a collaborative playlist made with my friend.

Thought Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy would be a good starter song. Something about the music. Represents a good start of Alec persuing Maurice, like, hey, I can be yours... Whatcha doin'?

I added Puppy Princess because of the chorus but I know some people don't like that song so... You can skip if you'd like. KISS MEEEEE KIISS ME WITH YIIR EYESSS CLOSED . ALL I WANT IS YOU YEAH YOU. TELL ME I'M NOT FUNNY TELL ME I'M LEGIIIIT

Ewan. OH MY GOD this song is so them. Alec cares for Maurice, and doesn't like not being taken seriously or being treated badly and brushed off.

"I don't know why you're like that, you're difficult to talk to and you're a snob" COME ON IS THAT NOT THEM — Just a smile from you, and I'll be in heaven. Please give me a response, anything but "No idea"... What a perfect representation of Alec's continuous persuit of Maurice, always talking, always trying...

I could go on with every lyric.

Edit: I just realised this song fits so well for Alec's letters and meeting at the museum. Must resist the urge to add the same exact track twice.

So about Touch Me... Some of the lyrics apply better in other versions. Spotify just has this version tho. Touch me, just like that.

All I've Ever Known. Maurice discovered so much that night about touch and sharing and being with someone. He wants to be with Alec. "All I've ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you too. [Hold you close, I don't wanna ever have to let you go. Hold you tight, I don't wanna to back to the lonely life.]" Alec opened up his eyes and he'll never be the same.

Can't Help Falling in Love With You. 'Did you ever dream you'd a friend, Alec? ... Someone to last your whole life...' 'Alec, you're a dear fellow and we've been very happy.'

I'd Like To Walk Around In Your Mind was added from Maurice's perspective. Perhaps it fits Alec too...

I think Love At First Sight has the double meaning of the literal title, as well as "wouldn't you like to kiss her" perhaps being... Something Maurice would hear.

I Don't Dance. Based on this post/edit. Please watch this video oh my God.

Pink in the Night. Alec yearns for Maurice in the boathouse. He hasn't come. He hears his heart breaking tonight.

Every lyric is perhaps pulled straight from Alec's brain, to be honest. I remember seeing a post with this song in other contexts with them too. So yes, a few meanings.

Amour plastique. Alec reminiscences on the night in the Russet room. Why hasn't he come?

In my mind, everything goes wild. I lose myself in your eyes. I drown myself in the vagueness of your loving gaze.

And at night I cry tears that stream down my cheeks. I think of you only when the days ends, only when my sad demons descend upon my mind, into the bottomless abyss.

Waiting in the boathouse at night, when the day ends.

I ring out in kisses all down your chest. Lost in the avalanche of my heart astray. Who are you? Where are you?

The moments of then repeat in his mind. Where is Maurice?

I suppose Hopelessly Devoted To You and I'm A Fool To Want You are self explanatory. Maurice should really come... Alec really toughed it out, 2 days he spent in the boathouse, really wanted to see Maurice, really knew they had something, and doesn't want to be treated like a dog. Generally, his 1st letter.

Moon Song. My friend said they added it as a general love song. — Why do you treat me like this? Why didn't you come to the boathouse? — Alec's 2nd letter as a whole. Plus bits of 1st.

And you pushed me in, and now my feet can't touch the bottom of you. ... So I will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door.

Ewan would fit here tbh.

Panalangin. My only prayer in this lifetime: to be beside you, to be together with you, that's my prayer.

"I since cricket match do long to ... place both arms round you and share with you, the above now seems sweeter than words can say."

And this heart won't allow if you will be away from me, my love, please listen.

It also fits the end of museum.

I Want You. Maurice, can you come to the boathouse already? Alec has no power to teleport you there. I hold one card that I can't use.

I found you. I found the door, but when I stepped through, there was no floor. He found Maurice, bit he's not being here for Alec.

You're coming back And it's the end of the world We're starting over And I love you, darling And I am done, dear

Alec wishes this would happen. Also, he does come back later and they love again over, and "it is finished".

Credit for suggesting the next two songs goes to @beatle-capaldi!!! He also wrote was in quotations!

English Summer Rain

The Most Radical Thing To Do

Hinahanap-Hanap Kita. 1st letter, he's looking for Maurice. Thinking about them together.

In my thoughts and dreams, in every turn of destiny, I look for you. Also applies to that hotel/post-hotel feeling. I look for you, even if I try to forget you, saying goodbye, looking back...

Wildest Dreams. They think a lot of each other. They share once more. But they must say goodbye. Alec saw this coming. Maurice hopes that Alec will remember him like this.

I Hear a Symphony. Alec truly opened up Maurice's eyes. Maurice was meant to be with him. He helped Maurice, changed his life. But now Alec is leaving on ship... Or is he? The symphony leads into...

An orchestral sountrack. The Boathouse. Unfortunately the Maurice soundtrack is not on spotify. It's on my personal YouTube music version. I added it because it just captures the boathouse the only way the sountrack itself can.

The Word of Your Body (Reprise). MLM people have moment of romantic tension, which culminates in confessions of love. Just had to add it. "Haven't you heard the word of your body?" perfectly describes Alec gifting and showing Maurice the wonder of truest physical affection and love. He lets Maurice be okay with himself, and again, changes everything. Every lyric is perfect.

Also, sorry JBW, I like other versions more... Too bad Spotify is mean.

I See The Light. Yeah. Every lyric. Maurice is Rapunzel. Movie Blond too. Both the morning at Russet room and the museum. And the world has somehow shifted. All at once everything is different, now that I see you. "By now they were in love with each other consciously."...

Suddenly Seymour. Suddenly see more, yeah? Clive = ass and someone gives him affection for once, wow! Sidenote, I want to sing this with them and their accents... Suddenly SCUDDER...

Helpless. Musical theatre songs seem to be good retellings of their love story. It's why they belong in post boathouse. Summaries and retellings. They're also good at conveying love they'd feel for each other in general, all times ever. Like loving men, retelling a story.

I'll Cover You. Cute love song feat. gays. I like to imagine them dancing around, declaring their love and devotion for each other. Walking and dancing around like in the original scene, sometime post canon. In my own imagination, I thought of Alec as Angel and Maurice (Christopher) as Collins.

Video Games. They must love spending time together. I thought this to be Maurice POV. Only worth living if somebody is loving you I mean, come on.

It's you, it's you, it's all for you. Everything I do. I tell you all the time, heaven is a place on Earth with you.

Un sospiro. I headcanon that Maurice picks up the piano and plays for Alec. Perhaps he picked it up bc of/after Clive, but now can play it for someone who gives a shit.

Something about the melody reminds me of them. And then it gets more intense... A bit like the passions of love, showing up in sharing and touch and more, too.

Liebestraum. I mean, it means love dream/dream of love. I just had to. Also I just like Liszt.

Take Me Up With You, Dearie. This song is just so sweet... So soft... Edwardian to boot... I love how quintessentially 1909 it is. Discovered it in a YT video. The thought of them getting married makes me cry. This song in general makes me want to cry, it's so romantic, tender, and exudes my favourite era...

Let us float, float, float through the clouds, and just have a lot of fun. We'll go up, up, up as two and then come down as one.

Put Your Head on My Shoulder. We Belong Together. I always imagine Maurice and Alec slowdancing to songs that come on the radio together, when the 1950s hits... Alec probably rests his head on his shoulder as this plays and they dance...

I'm using a lot of ellipses, am I secretly Rupert Graves?

Welcome to the 70s and 80s. They love dancing together and being with each other. Now, Panalangin can be a happy song. My only prayer for this lifetime ... To be together with you. And this heart won't allow if you will be away from me.

Just the Two of Us. What a nice, vibey song. Great title, great scenario of them dancing to this...

Tiny Dancer. Your Song. MLM people in the 70s + Radio, being happy and in love with each other. — I just thought I should add some Elton. A different friend, and I, like him. Maurice sings to Alec, "And you can tell everybody this is your song." That I put down in words how wonderful life is with you in the world.

Electric Love. Fun fact: this song got me to share the playlist. Got me thinking about them and their anniversary again. The funky busy instrumental describes well their passionate love. The highs of electric LOOOOOOVE describe the intensity of them.

Alt text continued: themselves together under and the love. And the love. The song has its own tension and it perfectly pictures their own tension. So yeah, this is THEIR song quite literally.

Sorry if my music taste is perhaps basic. I just made it for when I hear songs that are Them.

Falling for Ya. Alec falls for Maurice. "I saw you when you first drove up, Mr Hall..." Something about Maurice, right? Plus really nice vintage vibes with the music. The bit about Into your arms and it's a secure sure sounds like Maurice. Awh, they're falling for *each other*...

Rainbow Connections. Gay and bi people. Marriage. Everything that Maurice and Alec went through to get here, where they were meant to be. Clive. Working for Clive. Leading up to now.

All the things that had to go right, all the things that had to go wrong, that lead us to the place where we were going all along.

On the YT version there's a soft/jazzy cover of Panalangin here. Because they're old and spending time together and being happy. What a throwback, a defined meaning in their lives over time.

Still Into You. After all these decades... Old and grown, together... True soulmates... Two men can defy the world... Maurice and Alec still roam the greenwood. Imagine Maurice meeting Alec's mom in this context. If only.

Postmodern Jukebox cover, because they are a quintessentially 20th century couple. They exude vintage.

Some piano playing for Alec. Soft, tender, romantic, emotional, true. Feels like nighttime. Feels like Maurice and Alec. And a throwback to the pre 1914 world as well. Claire de Lune feels like... A credits of life piece. Time spent in the early 1980s. Nocturne feels like that too, but more romantic. Smidge less nighttime. Ah yes, Gymnopédies. The truest credits feel of them all. None of these actually are credits for Maurice and Alec, but I struggle to find the word for this feeling. But yeah. These all have Them vibes to me. Piano of the time just does I suppose. Glad to be reminded of them at any time.

What a long playlist. Like going through almost their whole lives together. 1:52 hrs. Almost like a movie. Imagine that. A full movie of THEIR lives... But leaving to the imagination was a good thing. Led to this such action. Thank you E.M. Forster.

Timeline:

1. Pendersleigh

4. & 5. Russet Room. Night, then Morning

9. Cricket

10. Boathouse Nights

18. The Museum

20. The Hotel

21. After

23. The Boathouse

24. They Still Roam the Greenwood

I just like to imagine them dancing to songs on the radio, for decades to come...

#maurice 1987 #maurice 1914 #maurice #maurice hall #alec scudder #Spotify

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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago

Text

The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is 2.5k of absolute tooth rotting fluff that was inspired by the Golden music video and the ultra talented @theharriediaries!! Thank you to Soph and Lu (@meetmymouth) for beta reading and giving me some direction when I needed it!! You can find more of my writing in my masterlist and I would LOVE if you could give me some feedback!! My requests are also open in my ask!!

***

“The Italians drink a lot over dinner,” Harry told you in an informative tone, an attempt to order yet another very expensive bottle of red. “Wine is very important in Italian culture,” he tipsily explained across the table, dimples prominent from his cheeky smile. “I learned that in my Italian classes.”

“Oh, did you?” you teased back at him, feeling a bit floaty as you finished your third glass, only for Harry to fill it right back up, emptying the bottle on the table. You laughed and shook your head as you watched him make eye contact with the waiter, motioning for him to bring another bottle over.

“Vino, vino, vino,” he hummed under his breath, playing with the empty glass in front of him that was soon filled up again with the deep red liquid that had stained his pouty lips a deep red and his tongue purple. The two of you sat in the front patio of a small restaurant down the block from your hotel, under a giant and bright moon that made his eyes sparkle even more than usual.

He had a boyish flush to his cheeks, which could have been from the wine or the remnants of a scaldingly hot day in Italy; maybe both. You could still feel the summer heat radiating back up from the pavement below you after it had baked in the sun all day. The oppressive heat still hung in the air, just enough for a light sheen of sweat to be covering you both that seemed to make Harry glow on the dimly lit patio.

You two had found yourself in Italy while Harry had some time off because he insisted he needed to go and practice his Italian. “Devo andare per la mia istruzione,” he told you one day after he got home from his class. “I have to go for my education,” he translated a moment later after being met with a blank look from you. He practiced all day every day. He struck up conversations with locals, spoke with every fan who came to say hi, and attempted to translate menus and order every meal. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but he was trying nonetheless.

Harry in Italy was a special version of himself. He was smiley and carefree and always trying to fatten you up or get you drunk. When he was here, he seemed to wholeheartedly become the H you always knew, abandoning the rockstar and becoming the mushy and emotional man that told you he loved you in every sentence and needed to be touching you at all times. His hair had lightened a tiny bit from your days outdoors, his skin had grown tan and taken on a golden tone, a side effect of him constantly ignoring when you told him to put on sunscreen.

You drank and ate and talked until the restaurant was closing down around you, a common occurrence when you two had the opportunity to slow down and just be together for a while, trying to forget that there was anything else going on in the world outside this tiny town. If he hadn’t captivated the wait staff with his broken Italian and charming smile earlier in the night, you were sure you would have been met with eyerolls from those cleaning up around you. Eventually, you two walked hand in hand out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk along the windy road, both of you full and drunk, and beginning the short walk back to your hotel.

He was smiling so wide his dimpled cheeks must have been hurting, a bright smile encouraged by the alcohol running through his system. His hair flopped over his forehead, curlier than usual because of the sea air and his lips were an even deeper purple than before. His beautiful mouth babbled, every thought in his head flowing past his lips in a slightly slurred mix of italian and english; a verbal expression of excitement and clumsiness.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight beside you, your fingers lazily interlocked with his, tugging him back when he moved too close to the street, hoping his wobbly legs wouldn’t trip on the uneven cobblestone sidewalk. You primarily didn’t want him to tear or stain his favorite light blue blazer if he took a tumble. He once told you it was his favorite because he thought the color looked like the sky on the day you had met. You remember blushing and pushing him away from you, telling him he was cheesy with a playful eye roll. “It’s my job to be cheesy!” he had defended himself. “Also, I’m not being cheesy, I’m a man in love.”

You were brought back into reality when he stopped in his tracks and pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your torso. “We should dance,” he beamed, eyes wide like it was the greatest idea he had ever thought of.

“There’s no music, H,” you regrettably informed him while pushing his curls away from his forehead. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a light kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm and slightly sweaty on your lips, a salty taste invading your mouth.

“We don’t need music. All the music is up here,” he winked while tapping his temple. “We're listening to classical.”

“Oh I see, music man,” you joked, unable to contain your giggles.

“Shh,” he attempted to quell your laughter, bringing his pointer finger to your lips. “Can’t hear the music.” A sarcastic seriousness played across his face, prompting another grin to sneak onto your lips. You pressed a kiss to his finger, before giving into his demand and falling quiet.

You could never fight the spell he put you under. You lived in a cloud of Harry, an intoxicating daze that made you unable to focus on the bad of the world when he was around. He had seemed to melt down the walls you had built before you had met, a fact that made him endearingly call you his ‘Ice Queen’ every once in a while. The charm and wit he carried with him wiped away your practicality, always knowing how to convince you to play along with his antics and throw your precious caution to the wind. He was your rose colored glasses. He made your heart jump all day long and unexpected bursts of joy were felt in your chest whenever he smiled, laughed, or said your name. You were enamored by him, an all consuming love you couldn’t escape from.

“What are you thinking about, pet?” he asked softly, breaking through your loving haze. “You have your thinking face on.” A light smile continued to play on his lips but it was softer now, taking on a gentle questioning quality.

“Just thinking about how much I love you,” you confessed.

His eyebrows perked up and so did the corners of his mouth into a delightful smirk. “I mean, who doesn’t?” His smart ass comment earned himself a playful slap to his chest, but your attempt to wiggle out of his arms was thwarted when he pulled you even tighter to him. “That’s no way to treat your dance partner, my love.”

“I want a different dance partner,” you taunted, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him.

One of his hands fell from your shoulders to the small of your waist, the other found one of yours and he began to sway with care side to side. “Too bad, we’re already dancing,” he spoke softly into your ear. You two moved in an easy rhythm to a song only Harry could hear, a more caring and tender tone taking over for your previously playful one.

His cheek pressed to your temple and your bodies pressed loosely to each other. If you tried hard enough, you could hear the man’s soft hum of a melody you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Your feet fell carefully, wary of the uneven pavement in your heels, but you reminded yourself even if you were to fall, the arm looped around your waist would be sure to catch you. Small kisses peppered your forehead and you were released from his grasp for only a second for him to twirl you around, the skirt of your dress splaying out around you before being enveloped in him once again.

“I love you, angel,” he murmured softly when you found yourself resting back against his chest. He had abandoned his joking tone, shifting to a gentler and more serious cadence, pouring his soul into every word that left his lips as they brushed against your forehead. “I am so happy that I get to spend my life with you.”

“I love you so much. This is a happier life than I could have ever imagined for myself,” you spoke after a thoughtful pause. You were still swaying calmly, seeming to move in time with the cool breeze settling over the two of you, but Harry’s humming had been abandoned for a reflective silence.

“What kind of house do you want us to live in one day?” he asked abruptly, choosing to move in a seemingly unrelated direction.

“It has to be big; with enough rooms to fill with lots of cats and dogs, and when the time comes, maybe a baby. And I want a big porch to sit on together and watch the world go by on.” You felt him nod thoughtfully and with a hum of agreement.

“Do you want it to be the only house we ever live in? Or do you want to try out different places to find your favorite?”

“I think I want it to be our one house. I want us to be the crazy old people who have lived in the old rickety house at the end of the block forever; the ones who always have stories to tell and grandchildren constantly coming and going.”

“Can we be the ones who brag about never having a fight?”

“Do you mean the ones who lie?” you asked with a chuckle, looking up to face him. He broke out into a high pitched giggle, your favorite laugh of his. It warmed you to your core knowing that you were the only one who could make him laugh like that.

“Exactly,” he nodded in confirmation, still chuckling to himself.

“We can lie and say we’ve never had a fight as long as we never stop getting wine drunk and slow dancing to no music on random streets while on vacation,” you quipped.

“Sounds like a plan, my love.”

“I know we’ve talked about doing it, but when do you want to get married? I don’t want to inconvenience either of our careers with wedding planning or anything like that. I don’t really care as long as we get to spend our lives together.” The words fell freely from your mouth, the wine still running through your veins blocking the inhibition that probably should have kept the words inside your head.

“Getting married to you wouldn’t be an inconvenience, darling.”

“I know. Wrong words,” you chuckled. “Well, I guess I should have asked when you want to get engaged,” you corrected yourself. “I suppose we have to do that first.”

“Why not now?” he asked, with a mischievous twang in his voice. You felt one of his arms slip from around you and start rummaging in his jacket pocket.

“What?”

“I said,” he began again, “why not now?” His hand emerged from his pocket, presenting you with a tiny red velvet ring box.

Your mind went blank. Your usually rapid and incessant thoughts seemed to stop altogether in a mix of shock and awe. You knew this day, or night, would come eventually. You two had discussed a future together extensively and had agreed you didn’t want to spend your lives with anyone else, but you had never imagined the moment he asked you to be his forever. You had never imagined this moment.

His eyebrows slicked up, lips curled in a devilish smile, and he sank down onto one knee before you. Your hands flew up to your face and the wetness on your fingertips alerted you to the tears that had begun to fall down your cheeks, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears.

“My dear,” Harry began as he settled onto the sidewalk, balancing carefully on the cobblestone ground. “I have been in love with you since the very first day I met you and that adorable little snort slipped out when you laughed at one of my bad jokes. You have been the first thought I have in the morning and the last thought I have before I fall asleep for longer than you know. You are kind and smart and funny and you light up every room you walk into. I do not want to spend another second of my life without knowing you’ll be by my side for the rest of it. Will you marry me?”

He looked up at you with hopeful eyes and you looked down at him through tearful ones. You began a furious nod, before choking out the only word he wanted to hear. “Yes,” you sobbed, holding out a shaky hand for him to slide the ring onto.

The ring was beautiful; dazzling under the light of the full moon and the dim street lights above you. It slid onto your ring finger with ease, sitting snugly like the ring was made just for you. It was simple, which Harry knew was your style and it held one (large) diamond in a simple silver setting, no bells or whistles needed.

Harry grabbed you by the waist as soon as the ring was secure and picked you up in his arms and spun, twirling you around like the two of you had just slipped out of a rom-com. Delighted giggles fell from both of your lips before he finally stopped, your laughter pausing when your lips found his.

It was a salty kiss, due to the sheen of sweat still sitting on Harry’s skin and the tears that were still streaming down your own, but it just felt so right. He was warm and smiling, lips still tasting of the pinot noir you had shared. Your lips moved together in a perfect harmony like they were meant for each other.

“Thank god you said yes,” Harry breathed when you finally separated. “I’ve been carrying that ring with me everywhere we go for two months now.”

With a playful eye roll, you pulled the curly man to you and connected your lips once again, unable to get enough of him. His intoxicating cologne filled your nostrils and you had never felt more safe or happy. The love you shared felt like when the sun warms your skin under a golden hour sunset; bright yet soft, spectacular yet easy. And you were ready for it to never end.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS ARE SUPER APPRECIATED!!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry fluff #harry fanfic #one direction #one direction fanfic #harry styles fic #my writing

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years ago

Text

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball.

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

-------------

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap.

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved.

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students.

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done.

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed.

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint.

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts."

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex."

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away.

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly.

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it.

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom.

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her.

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him.

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia. I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you … still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

-----------

Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton @cordonianprincess @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @drrookie @sfb123 @secretaryunpaid

#fools rush in #Liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #the royal romance #trr #choices trr #prince liam #bbrandy2002

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batgurl1989 · 4 years ago

Text

A Campsite To Remember

Summary: You and Henry go camping

Word Count: 2522

Warnings: None that I can think of. Fluff

A/N: This is a continuation of ideas from @henrynerdfan and @stephartrave. A camping date. This follows after A Hike to Remember, A Picnic to Remember, and A Beach to Remember, and is currently the last of this series, unless another idea comes in that runs in this same vein. It has not been beta-ed, so all mistakes are my own. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know.

Taglist: @rmtndew @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit @princesssterek @summersong69

The sun was warm when we arrived at the campground. Setting my backpack down, glad to be free of its weight, I looked around the site. There was a wood platform for setting up the tent so it would stay dry on one side of the clearing. Across from it was a picnic table and a firepit with a grill over it, perfect for cooking. Back down the path was a pair of outhouses. Not going to lie, that was one of the reasons for picking this campsite to rent when I looked it up online. Not having to balance while squatting over a hole seemed like something I would not want to do in the middle of the night if the need arose.

Henry scooped up my pack and moved it over to the wooden platform. He had been carrying the tent and the food. I had lugged our clothes and miscellaneous essentials we thought we might need, along with anything Kal might need. The Akita bounded around the clearing, barking at squirrels, letting them know he was moving in for the weekend.

“We made good time.” Henry smiled at me as he passed by on his way to set up the tent. I grinned, throwing a stick for Kal. I had offered to help build the tent, but Henry insisted he could handle it alone. Probably for the best, anyway, as tents and I didn’t seem to get along well.

Kal and I decided to explore the nearby forest, enjoying the fall weather. The leaves had changed once again, and the sun warmed the scenery, turning the whole area into a fiery display of colours. Kal pranced beside me, proudly carrying a stick in his mouth as though he had conquered it. I scratched his head as we walked, excitement blooming in me about this weekend. In honour of us being whatever we were for a year, Henry had flown back to Washington for a camping weekend.

Since our picnic date, we had kept in touch as best we could. His filming schedule kept him busy, and my job was becoming ever more demanding. We made sure to text as often as we could, call each other when the times aligned across time zones. Thankfully, we lived in a time where video calls were a thing. He had even flown me out to set one week for a beach getaway when filming went on a short break. We weren’t boyfriend/girlfriend, no labels, but we somehow knew that this was exclusive without ever blatantly saying it.

By the time Kal and I returned to the campsite the tent was up, and the sleeping bags were unrolled inside. Henry had gotten a fire roaring already. Even though the sun was still shining, it would soon set, and the bite of Autumn would follow quickly behind it. Even now the breeze that soughed between the trees brought with it a chill. The fire was a welcome balm to that chill.

When I stepped up beside Henry as he watched the flames lick higher, I slid my hand into his large warm one. He entwined our fingers, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. I leaned into his muscled arm, trying to absorb as much of his heat as I could.

“Cold?” Henry chuckled, dropping my hand to wrap his arm around my shoulders. He tugged me into the side of his body, tucking me close under his arm. He pressed a kiss to the side of my head, lingering there, resting his head on mine. “I missed you. I missed this.”

“I missed you too.” I whispered, wrapping my arm around his back as I snuggled closer. I sighed; it felt so right to be here, in nature, like this. Nature was sort of our thing, so it was kind of perfect we were celebrating with a camping trip. Kal bumped my free hand with his big head, causing laughter to burst from both of us. “Of course, I missed you too.”

Henry and I moved about the campsite in perfect harmony, getting things ready for dinner. I had prepared a few things ahead of the trip so we would need to bring less things with us, and still be able to have nutritious meals. That didn’t mean I didn’t also bring the ingredients for smores. Every camping trip need smores.

The tinfoil packets filled with chopped veggies grilled nicely on the open fire, and the steaks were done to perfection. I don’t know if I could have pulled it off if I didn’t have Henry with me. I know it’s a stereotype that men are good at grilling, but it must be for a reason. Kal munched happily on the dog food I had made for him while we ate, his tail wagging the whole time.

“Watch out! It’s going to burn!” Henry laughed later as he watched my marshmallow catch on fire. He reached over to pull it out of the flames, blowing the fire out while still laughing. I hit his shoulder lightly for making fun of me, but I was laughing too. “You can’t put it in the flames. You have to put it down by the smoldering coals. Have you never done this before?”

“I did it lots as a kid, but it’s been a while.” I admitted, tossing my burnt marshmallow into the fire, before stabbing fresh one on. Henry shifted closer to me, guiding my skewer down to the edge of the fire where there were a few coals glowing with a warm orange heat.

“The trick is to keep rotating it like it’s on a rotisserie, not letting any side get more heat than the others.” Henry slowly spun my skewer in my hand, showing me his technique. I was distracted by his closeness, so it was a good thing he had a hold of the stick, otherwise this marshmallow was going to end up covered in ash. Risking it anyway, I kissed his cheek. A smile broke out on his face, but he kept his attention on the fire. “If you keep doing that, you definitely will burn your marshmallow.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” I admitted, pretending to take his smore making seriously. I had to suck my lips into my mouth to stop myself from laughing. He kept spinning the skewer, concentrating on it as the gooey confection on the end turned gold.

“Graham cracker and chocolate.” Henry instructed, getting ready to pull it from the heat. I held out the pieces I had prepared for the doomed marshmallow. He placed the warmed pillow of sugar on the piece of chocolate, and when I pressed the second graham cracker on top, he slid the skewer out. “And that is how you make the perfect smore.”

“Yum! Thank you.” I stared at the perfect little dessert sandwich, watching the marshmallow ooze out the sides. When I looked up to thank him again, Henry surprised me by pressing his lips to mine softly. It wasn’t as demanding as some of our kisses could be, or as chaste. It walked the line between the two, flirting with both sides equally.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” Henry grinned when he pulled away, tossing my words back at me. I slowly opened my eyes. I would never complain about surprise kisses from this man. “You had better eat that before it gets cold. Cold smores are not as enjoyable.”

I mentally snapped out of the daze his kiss had put me and concentrated on eating my smore before the thing melted anymore. As it was chocolate was running down my thumb, threatening to drip off my hand and on to my jeans. I licked it up before that could happen, catching Henry watching me as I did. A blush crept up my neck, heating my cheeks when I realized what my action must have seemed like. Henry quickly looked away when he saw that I caught him, a blush painting his cheeks as well.

Night fell fast out here, and between the fresh air and the hike to get out to the camp, I was exhausted early on. My full stomach probably didn’t help as I fought off a food coma. Henry noticed me trying to stifle my yawns, covering them up behind my hand as I looked away from him. Chuckling, he patted my leg. We had already cleaned up the food and hid it in the cache to keep bears and other critters away from it. We had just been enjoying the fire and the clear night.

“Time for bed, love.” Henry encouraged as he stood up. He offered me his hand, which I gladly took. My body felt limp and sated after sitting by the fire with good food warming me from the inside, and the guy I was camping with warming me from the outside. He wrapped his arm around my body, his hand resting on my opposite hip as he guided me to the tent using a flashlight to see with. “Go in and get changed. I will wait.”

Kal had already put himself to bed in the tent, but he raised his head in greeting when I entered. He had taken over Henry’s sleeping bag, claiming it as his own. I laughed as I shone my flashlight at my pack so I could find my pjs. I pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Henry so he wouldn’t have to go digging through the pack as well. I quickly changed in a pair of flannel pajama pants, tugging on warm wool socks. My heart sang as I pulled on one of his old shirts that he had left last time he visited, just for me. It didn’t smell like him anymore, but he promised he had brought some more to swap out this one with.

“Your turn.” I smiled, unzipping the tent flap to step out. Henry ducked inside, and faster than I had been, changed.

Kal was unmoveable, even though Henry tried to pull his sleeping bag out from under the Akita. The dog just grunted and seemed to make himself weigh more. I chuckled, flipping open my sleeping bag in invitation. I certainly wasn’t going to complain about sleeping beside Henry. If nothing else, he radiated heat and could be my personal furnace.

“Are you sure?” Henry double checked before climbing in to join me. Up until now, we had never slept together. Even during our beach getaway, we had two beds in the room. It had been really hard to resist the temptation to crawl into his bed that night, but I didn’t want to cross a boundary he might not be ready for. I found out later, he had been thinking the same thing.

“I’m sure.” I promised, letting as much of the promise show in my eyes as it did in my words. Henry carefully slid into the cramped space of my sleeping bag. I found it adorable that he seemed to try to make his massive body smaller, to take up as little room as possible.

“Maybe if you…” Henry trailed off as we tried to figure out how we were both going to fit in the sleeping bag. Our legs were tangled together already, and his arm was under my head. I nuzzled into his chest, breathing in his scent deeply, trying to cover it up by pretending I was just searching for a comfortable position.

Suddenly I was being rolled up, so I was laying basically on top of Henry. He smiled as he flattened himself underneath me, his shoulders spanning the width of the sleeping bag. Both his arms were around me, shifting me so I was more on top of him. I wanted to fight him, but there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room.

“Just give in.” Henry whispered in my ear before I pulled my head away to search his face. The smile gracing his face reached his eyes, letting me know he was fully onboard with this position. “Unless its too uncomfortable for you.”

“No… No, it’s not that.” I tried to relax. This was the closest we had gotten other than when we were hugging in the ocean. His hand smoothed down my back, sending tingles up my spine. Being this close to him was shorting out my brain and I couldn’t think straight. His finger under my chin had me looking back at him, his eyes searching mine for what might be wrong. “I just… don’t want to squish you.”

“Trust me, you won’t.” Henry laughed. I had to laugh at my reason too. This man was the strongest he had ever been and could easily bench me plus some. He cupped my cheek after tucking my hair away from my face. “How about this? If during the night either of us gets uncomfortable, I will sleep with Kal. Just say the word, and I’ll move.”

“Okay.” I said quietly, scared he would move now. I really was enjoying being this close to him. Though I am positive sleeping beside Kal wouldn’t be a new thing for him, I would feel bad kicking him out of the warm sleeping bag. Henry’s eyes searched mine again, making sure I was 100% okay with this.

“Oh. And to warn you, Kal snores.” Henry chuckled, wrapping his arms around me again, pulling my weight fully onto him. I hadn’t even noticed I was trying to hold myself off him until he did that.

“I remember.” I laughed, reaching over to give the Akita a pat good night, before tucking myself into Henry’s body. I was about to tuck my face into his neck, probably about to shock him with my cold nose, but I wanted one more thing.

I lifted my head back up, looking down into Henry’s blue eyes, getting momentarily lost. He looked up at me, his eyebrows raised in question. I smiled, and slowly lowered my face to his, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. I savoured the way our lips moved against each other, the way his tongue gently explored my mouth, getting reacquainted. The kiss wasn’t rushed, but it still made my toes curl and my skin tingle with goosebumps. The passion was slow burning, drawn out in long languid reverence.

As far as good night kisses went, this one was my favourite. Probably because it was our first true good night kiss. It wasn’t the chaste one we had offered each other at the beach hotel. This one was a kiss people more familiar with each other shared. I couldn’t help the grin on my face when we pulled away from each other. It was still on my face when I tucked my face into his neck, biting my slightly swollen lip, going over what just happened in my mind.

“Good night, sweetheart.” Henry whispered, smoothing my hair down before kissing the top of my head. I pressed a kiss to his neck, whispering the words back to him, silently praying Kal would hog his sleeping bag tomorrow night and we would have to do this again.

#henry cavill x female reader #Henry Cavill Fanfic #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #Henry Cavill x Reader

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alloftheimaginess · 4 years ago

Text

Forever

Requested on wattpad

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death and shitty writing

Also excuse the sad imagines I’ll be posting. They are helping me with my grieving process

"Mommy I need you to record me" Phoebe says as soon as I walk off set.

"What's happening?" I ask going over to her and she smiles at my costume.

“I like your costume” she says and I smile at her.

"But I want you to record me doing something" she says and I nod pulling my phone out.

"Okay I'm recording. What are you going to do?" I ask recording her as we move to outside where the filming isn’t taking place.

"Tom taught me how to cartwheel and it was super cool because he was in his Spider-Man costume" she says grinning at the camera.

"Show me, I want to see it" I say and she nods and she runs back a little and she does it halfway and I cheer.

"That was amazing bee" I say cheering her on and she bows.

"Thank you, thank you" she says blowing kisses and she runs up to the camera smiling a big toothless smile and she makes a face before covering the camera.

"We got you something bee" I say and she looks up from her homework.

"What is it?" She asks.

"A gift" I say and Chris hands her the box.

"What is this?" She asks shaking it.

"It's a surprise for you" he says.

"But it's not my birthday, that was last month and Christmas isn't for another month" she says.

"We know but we wanted to surprise you" I say and she nods.

"Okay" she says unwrapping it and she takes the top off and she starts screaming as she climbs on her knees in the seat to get a better look inside the box and she pulls out the ultrasound.

"You have a baby?" She asks.

"Yeah we do" I say and she jumps up and down with excitement on her knees as she pulls the other stuff out the box.

"It's so tiny and cute" she says cuddling the onesie.

"Do you know what it is?" She asks.

"Not yet, we are going to figure that out soon. Uncle Scott and auntie Sn are throwing a reveal party" I say and she holds the ultrasound up squealing.

"I can't wait to give this baby all my love" she says.

"What about us?" Chris asks and she looks up from looking closely at the ultrasound.

"I don't have enough to love all three of you so I'll love you both until the baby gets here. It's not that hard to understand daddy" she says with a duh tone and he laughs.

"I guess it's the only logical thing to do, foolish me" he says and I laugh as she kisses the ultrasound.

"Last session" I say and she grins at my phone as I record her.

"I'm going to beat cancers booty" she says and I laugh.

"Yes you are, you're my little superhero" I say.

"I want to be the Hulk" she says.

"The Hulk?" I ask and she grins even wider nodding.

"Yes. He doesn't have to wear clothes and no one complains when he doesn't, nothing scares him and he can't die. Also uncle Mark is cute" she says giggling and I laugh.

"Totally agree with you there" I say.

"Plus who wouldn't want to be green?" She asks.

"I wouldn't want to be green" I say.

"Yeah because you're boring" she says and I gasp holding my chest.

"You wound me" I say.

"I'm just kidding mommy you're not boring. You just don't understand the Hulk" she says laughing and Chris walks in looking down at his phone.

"Daddy!" She yells and he jumps causing her to laugh even harder.

"What's up bug?" He asks turning to face her as he puts his phone away.

"If you had to be any other superhero that's not Captain America who would you be?" She asks.

"Ooh maybe Iron man" he says and she nods.

"Who did mommy pick?" He asks.

"She didn't. I did though" she says.

"You'd be the Hulk because he doesn't have to wear clothes, huh?" He asks and I laugh shaking my head.

"That was her exact answer" I say and he laughs unpacking her lunch.

"Let me in or else I'll beat down your door, then two strangers who had been two silhouettes on the shade said to my shock you're on the wrong block" she sings.

"Silhouette" I sing.

"Silhouette" she sings super high and she instantly starts cracking up.

"Silhouette" I sing and she doubles over from laughter.

"Silhouette" she sings through her giggles, gasping for air and I start laughing with her.

"I appreciate your dedication to this performance" I say and she leans on me trying to calm down.

"The show must go on" she says in giggles and I smile at her and she leans on my arm trying to completely calm down.

"Merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas" she sings over and over as she dances through the house and she drops a gift in my lap and I look up and she drops one on Chris.

"What's this?" He asks.

"A gift for you" she says.

"Uncle Scotty helped me get them so open them" she says and I rip the paper off and it's a jewelry box and I open it and it's a heart necklace.

"It has all of our initials including the baby’s. Right there" she says and I smile at it.

"It's beautiful" I say and I hug her and she hugs me back kissing my head.

"I love it" I say.

"Okay it's my turn" Chris says and she pulls away from me and he opens his and it's a watch.

"It's us" she says tapping the watch.

"I'm going to wear this everywhere" he says.

"Good. Never take it off" she says.

"Never" he says and they pinkie promise.

"What is it? What is it?" She asks and I laugh as Chris and I stand beside her and he starts to hand her the string.

"As soon as you pull this string we'll fi-" she snatches the string from him and pulls it before he can finish telling her and everyone's laughs turn to cheers as pink confetti and powder falls over us and she starts squealing as she jumps around.

"It's a girl!" She screams running around us and he kisses me and I kiss him back.

"We're having another girl, you're officially outnumbered" I say and he laughs as Phoebe continues to scream.

"I think we both are" he says kissing me again and Phoebe jumps and he picks her up and she wraps her arms around my head pulling me close.

"I'm so excited" she says out of breath and I laugh.

"I couldn't tell" I say and she leans her cheek on Chris’ cheek.

"I'm getting a baby sister. I can't wait to meet her" she says trying to catch her breath.

"Hey bee how about we go get some of the powder on auntie Cobie and uncle Taran" I say and she quickly nods and Chris sets her down and she bends down picking some up off the ground and she runs off over to where they are standing.

"I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see, wanna see em dancing" Phoebe sings laid back as she's cuddled up with Chris and the baby as we watch the little mermaid after coming home from bringing the baby home from the hospital.

"Walking around on those what do you call 'em? Oh, feet" she sings.

"Flipping your fins you don't get too far, legs are required for jumping, dancing, strolling along down a- what's that word again?" Chris sings.

"Street" Phoebe sings loudly and I smile at them.

"Up where they walk, up where they run up where they stay all day in the sun, wondering free. Wish I could be part of that world" she sings quietly grabbing the baby's hand.

"What would I give if I could live out of these waters? What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand?" She sings laying her cheek against Chris' as she watches the movie with tears in her eyes.

"You can try. Oh but I-I love you means you're never ever ever getting rid of me" she sings dancing in place.

"Ready for your check?" I ask.

"Not quite. Pie for everybody. I grew up an only child in the suburb of the city. I spent my days alone, my only friend was a stray kit-"

"Are we going to sing show tunes all day or are we going to get dressed so we can leave?" Chris asks cutting her off and she turns around.

"Daddy you're ruining the video so if you aren't going to sing get out the way" she says trying to push him out the shot and he plants his feet and she starts groaning.

"But I love you means you're never ever ever getting rid of me" he says and she starts giggling.

"Daddy stoppp" she says using her back to add pressure to his leg to move him and she starts to slip and he catches her by her arms and she laughs.

"Okay, I'll move. I wanted to see your mom anyway" he says walking over and kissing me.

"Where's my kiss?" She asks.

"You didn’t want one. All you wanted was for me to get out the way and leave you alone" he says.

"You don't have to leave" she says and he picks her up and she kisses him.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Bee, happy birthday to you” everyone sings as Chris walks the cake into the living room where everyone is and she holds Ainsley at the table.

“Come on chunky monkey we have to make a wish and blow out the candles” she says keeping Ainsley from touching the flames as she quickly makes a wish and blows out the candles.

“What did you wish for?” I ask and she looks up at me.

“A million more birthdays like this” she says smiling and I rub her cheek with my thumb and her smile grows.

“Can I cut the cake?” She asks.

“Yeah, the first piece. Daddy will help” I say.

“Yay” she says and I grab Ainsley.

“Bye chunky monkey, I’ll cut you a slice first” she says rubbing her hands together excitedly causing everyone to laugh.

“Chunky monkey can’t have cake yet” Chris says.

“But daddy today is chunky monkeys sixth month birthday and my seventh birthday so she should be able to have cake” she says pulling on her best puppy dog eyes.

“She got you there. Try to say no to that little face” I say and he groans.

“Fine, a little piece” he says.

“Do you hear that chunky monkey, daddy is going to let us eat all the cake” she says playing with leg and he helps her cut the first slice.

Yn and Chris Evan share videos of their seven year old just days after she passes away from cancer letting everyone know that Phoebe’s or Bee’s (as everyone in her life called her) spirit will live on forever.

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thatdeaniegirlsworld · 3 years ago

Text

I'm Back Home BabyGirl-Roman Reigns

Four Months. That's how long it's been since Roman left, and it was getting harder by the day.

The first few days after he left, you took him up on his offer to stay at his home. Which was good because with him being gone, you needed that familiarity.

Around the second month, it was Christmas, and he couldn't even be here for that or New Year's. He did let you know that his divorce was finalized a little after the new year though.

It was now February, and you were in the locker room when there was a knock on the door. "It's open." You tell them, and you look up to see Seth, and Becky. "Oh hey guy's what's up?"

"We have the rest of the night off, and wanted to see if we could come watch the rest of the show with you." Seth offers, and you nod.

"Sure, sounds fun." You tell them, and pick up your phone to try to call Roman again, but you get his voicemail again.

"Everything alright?" Becky asks you, and you make your way over to sit next to her on the couch with Seth on the other side of her.

"Yeah, I've just been trying to get a hold of Roman all day, but I guess he must still be at the treatment center. Just one of those days." You tell her shrugging your shoulders. You quickly wipe away the tears that had fallen down your face. "Sorry, it's just been tough."

"I can't imagine what you've been going through." Becky says, grabbing a hold of your hand that rested in your lap. "I heard he was officially divorced. That's good news right?"

"Yeah, it means that whenever he comes back we can actually be together." I smile through my tears, and Becky moves her hand from yours to rub your back. "I don't normally break down like this, I'm sorry guys."

"Hey, don't apologize. We know how much you miss him, and love him. You always put up a front. You don't have to do that in front of us, okay?" Seth speaks and I nod.

"Thank you." You tell them, and begin to watch the show in Roman's chair in his locker room.

"Coming up next, we have a returning superstar who has some big news to share!" One of the announcers say, and you check your phone again, but no word from Roman.

"There you guys are." Sasha says when her, Bayley, and Charlotte. "Having a watch party?"

Having a close relationship with all four of the horse women was something you held very to dear to your heart.

"Yeah, come take a seat." You tell them, and that's when you hear the familiar music. There's no fucking way.

You look up at the TV, and sure enough, there he was. "What the fuck?" You gasp as he begins to talk. "No, I must be dreaming."

"Sweetie, listen." Charlotte says, rubbing your arm.

"I'm in remission, y'all. The big dog is back!" He says, and you fall back onto the couch with your face in your hands.

"Hey guys, why don't we give them a minute?" Your not sure who asks because the blood pumping in your body.

"Where is she?" You hear his voice, and can't stop shaking. You can feel his presence as he drops to a squat in front of you.

You feel his strong hands wrap around yoir wrists, pulling your hands from your face. "Hi baby girl." He whispers, and it feels like time is frozen. "I'm home."

You look up at him, and start crying even harder. "Roman?" You gasp, and he wipes away your tears.

"It's me, baby." He whispers, and lightly presses his lips to yours. You wrap your arms around him, and he holds you tight to his chest. You begin to sob, and he stands up with you in his arms.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and he turns to sit down on the couch. "I had to ditch my phone today because I knew as soon as I heard your voice I'd ruin the surprise." He says with a light chuckle.

"It's okay." You choke out, and lift your head to look at him. "You look so good, baby."

"Thank you." He tells you, and you don't want to leave his warmth. "Will you be okay if I go do some interviews real quick?"

You lean forward to press your lips to his, and he is just as eager to kiss you back. "I'll be back, I promise." He tells you, and you nod before hopping off of his lap. "Unless you want to come with me?"

"No, it's your night." You tell him, and he kisses your forehead. "As long as I get to leave with you."

"Of course baby girl." He tells you, and you hug him once more. "I'll be back. Sit tight, and then we'll go home."

Home.

You nod, and he leaves the room. "Holy fuck." You breathe out, and take a deep breath.

"Was it worth the surprise?" You turn to see Seth had walked back in with Becky.

"Yeah. I'm still shaking." You say with a forced laugh.

"Well, we just wanted to come say good night. When you and Roman get done, reconciling, we all want to do dinner or something, okay?" Becky asks, and you laugh, nodding your head.

"Sounds good." You tell them, and you sit there for the next few minutes, on your phone until you hear Roman's laugh.

You stand up, and wqlo over to finish packing up your gear from earlier tonight when you hear the door open, and close. "You about ready to head out?" Roman asks you once he reaches behind you.

"Yeah, almost done." You tell him, and his hands grip your hips. You gasp, and he moves your hair over to the left side. "How did you get here?"

"Jey." He answers before placing a kiss to your neck. "Is my truck totaled yet?"

"Heyyy." You whine, and he laughs from behind you. "I took care of it."

"I'm kidding baby girl. I know you did." He says and you turn around to face him. "Let's go home."

********************************

When you arrive to Roman's apartment, he immediately goes to lay down on his bed. You get comfortable before laying down with him. He pulls you close to him, and silence looms over the two of you. "I missed you like crazy."

"I know, I missed you, too." You tell him, and he reaches over to turn the TV on. "You're divorced, too."

"I am." He hums in agreement. "Does that mean you'll officially be my girlfriend?"

"Yes." You say in a heartbeat, and he squeezes you tighter. "I never want to leave you."

"Then don't." He says, and pauses. "Move in with me."

"Really?" You ask him, and he nods in response. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I mean come on, you're here more then you ever were at your own apartment." He says, causing you to laugh. He reaches up to turn out the light and you hear his shoes hit the floor.

"I'd love to move in with you." You tell him, and roll over to face him.

"Good." He says and bends down to kiss you. It started as short sweet kisses, but then the longer they got, the more you wanted. "Having to live off just your pictures was pure torture, you know that?"

"It was more then that, and you know it." You tell him, the heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget the phone calls, and video chats." He says, and you shove your face into his chest. "Don't go all shy on me now."

His hand moves from your knee, and slides down your thigh until he reached your hip. "Missed having you like this. All flustered in just a t shirt and panties." He whispers.

"Roman." You whine, and he laughs at you.

"What's wrong, baby girl? Thinking about all the times you'd call me because you missed my voice? And how that voice got you to cum over and over again?" You squeeze your thighs together, and groan. "Feeling achy down there, are we? Want daddy to make you feel better?"

"Please." You beg, and he moves to hover over you. He brings his lips down to yours again.

"I love you." He mumbles against your lips.

"I love you, too." You tell him, and he peels the shirt off your body. "Wait."

"What's wrong?" He asks you, and you push him to lay down before straddling his lap.

"It's your night, baby." You tell him, and he smirks at you. You grab the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head. You begin to kiss his neck, and you can feel him relax under your touch.

You reach down into his joggers, and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him. He moves his hips up to push down his joggers, and you pull them all the way off.

You look up at him as you press kisses down his stomach until you're finally between his legs. You lick up the underside of his cock before licking the pre cum from the tip, and sucking the head of him. His hand falls to your hair, and pulls.

You push him all the way down your throat, and he groans, pulling harder on your hair. "Just like that, baby girl, fuck."

You take him all the way, and gag a little until he pulls you off. You catch your breath before doing it again. "Baby, fuck." He groans, and you smirk to yourself as you can feel him close to finishing.

"Want you to cum down my throat, daddy." You tell him, and he throws his head back in pleasure, the vein in his neck protruding.

You take him once more, and with just a few squeezes to his balls, he is shooting his cum down your throat, moaning your name.

You swallow every bit of him, and he pulls you up to him by your hair, and he kisses you, hard. You remove your panties, and slide over his cock as it easily gets hard again. "Baby, let me." He begs, and you shake your head.

"Not yet." You tell him, and raise up to sink yourself down onto his cock. "Holy fuck."

You raise up again, and bounce back down, earning a moan from him. He reaches up to grab onto your breasts, squeezing them as you lean back to get leverage. "You like riding daddy's cock, baby?"

"Mhm." You moan as you begin to bounce a little faster. His hands move to your back, and he wraps them tightly before holding you down to thrust up into you. "Fuck!"

Before you know it, your back is planted to the bed, and Roman now has control. He rubs your clit with his thumb as he begins to pound into you. You watch as his muscles contract in his stomach with each thrust.

He moves one or your legs to his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper, and you throw your head back in pleasure. He grabs your hand, and places it towards the bottom of your stomach. "You feel that?" He asks you, and you nod. "This pussy is mine. No one else will fucking touch it. Got it?"

"Yes daddy." You tell him, and he let's go of your hand to thrust himself into you at a faster pace.

"Look at you, creaming all over daddy's cock already." He groans, and bends down to kiss you sloppily. "Soak my cock with your cum." His brown eyes are now black with lust.

His heavy breathing is in my ear, and his cheat is pressed against mine. "Come on baby, cum for me. Show me how bad you've missed me."

You grab his hand, and wrap it around your throat, and his lips find yours again, but this time he bites down on your bottom lip. That's what sends you over the edge as you scrape your nails down his back. His name falls from your lips, and he watches you as you come undone. "So pretty." He whispers, and you feel him still pumping in, and out of you.

He pulls out of you, and before you can ask what he's doing, his mouth is on your clit. You jump a bit at the sensitivity, but when you see his eyes staring up at you, you feel the familiar sensation building up inside of you once more.

He sticks his tongue inside of you, licking up all of the cum that was there from your previous orgasm, and he doesn't stop until he gets all of it before returning back to your clit. You grab at his hair, and he moans onto your clit, causing vibrations in your entire body. "Fuck, right there." You moan, and begin to ride his tongue until he holds your thighs down, flicking his tongue as fast as possible until you scream out his name.

"Such a good girl." He says, stroking his cock with his hand. "Tell me baby girl, think you can handle one more?" He asks and you nod. "Good, flip over."

You do as told, and he grabs your ankles, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You spread your legs wife enough for him, and he lines up with your entrance again. He leans forward to press a kiss to your spine before slowly sliding back in.

His strokes are slow at first until he hears you start to moan. That speeds him up as well as he pushes into you harder each time. "I'll never get enough of you." He groans, and you start throwing your ass back against him. "Fuck, especially if you do that."

You look over your shoulder at him, and he brings his hand down in a harsh slap against your ass. "You like it don't you?" He asks you.

"Ruin me, please." You beg him, and he reaches forward to pull you up by your hair. His bicep wraps around your throat, and he pulls you all the way to his shoulder so that he can kiss you.

"So desperate for me, aren't you?" He asks, and you nod. "Who do you belong to?"

"You daddy." You tell him, and he smirks at you. He holds you to him with his free arm around your stomach as he reaches down to rub your sensitive clit.

"My beautiful girl. I knew this was in you this entire time. You just needed me to work for it, didn't you?"

You couldn't answer, all you could feel was the eruption that was about to happen as his cock kept brushing up against your spot deep inside of you.

"Daddy." You whine, and you felt almost lifeless.

"I know baby girl, I'm almost there, okay?" He asks, and you nod weakly. He let's go of your throat, and you fall back down on the bed, holding yourself up on your hands while he grabbed onto your hips. "Now."

You let go with the moan of his name. Your name and curses leave his as you feel him twitch inside of you. You collapse onto the bed, and he pulls out of you to lay down next to you. He pulls you into his chest, and presses kisses to your forehead. "I'm so happy you're healthy, and back home, baby." You tell Roman.

"Me too. I'll never leave you again, I promise." He tells you. "I'll go run a bath, okay?"

"Mkay." You mumble and he carries you into the bathroom. He helps you into the bathroom, and holds you close. "Hey, Roman?"

"Yes baby?" He asks, and you look up at him.

"I love you." You tell him, and he smiles at you before kissing you softly.

"I love you, more."

Tags: @omg-im-such-a-masochist

@drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

@banks4life2

@banksxsasha

@wickedsunfire

@galens-mistress

@akiko-tanaka

@wwechristina87

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yourfriendlyneighborhoodfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

“The Real Life Mary Jane”

Tom Holland x y/n

Warnings: none, just a bunch of cute fluff. Might take this and run with it if you guys like it enough!

Tom was sitting on his laptop memorizing lines in his room when out of nowhere Harry came rushing in, seemingly out of breath. “Tom! Have you been on Instagram today?” Tom stared dumbfounded before his confusion escalated as Harrison came running in not long after. “Harry, did you show him?” Harry shook his head and jumped in front of Tom on the computer. As he began to protest, Harry shushed him, the urgency in his voice alarming Tom. “N-no, I haven’t been on Instagram, you know I try not to make a habit of it. What’s wrong?”

“Have you heard of Y/N L/N?” Harrison spoke up, grinning from ear to ear. Tom had heard of the up and coming pop star’s name, but he didn’t know anything about you. “Uh, yeah, I guess? Why?” Harry finished his search and stepped out of the way. It was one of your music videos. “What is this about mate, I need to be learning my lines-“

“Just shut up and watch it!” Harry shouted and the two boys huddled around Tom as he clicked the play button. The video started up, it was a catchy song and you looked super cute. He had never even seen you before, but you were more than he expected. However, he wasn’t really sure why he was watching it until Harry spoke up again. “Okay, now pay close attention…” in the video you were sitting on the floor wearing a Spider-Man t-shirt that was way too big for you, and nothing else. Tom smiled to himself, he thought you looked cute in it. “So, she likes Spider-Man?”

“That isn’t the half of it, hang on.” Harry reached over and clicked to another tab he already had pulled up with a different music video. In this one you were lighting your ‘exes’ car on fire, and as you danced around and sang, you grabbed a Spider-Man bumper sticker off the back and put it in your pocket to keep. Harry clicked another tab with another music video, one where you were singing a slower song and in it, you had multiple Amazing Spider-Man comics splayed out on your bed. One by one, Harry showed Tom video after video of you slowly expressing your love for Spider-Man. In some of the music videos it was less obvious, but in some it seemed to be the point. Either way, you had been able to sneak in something to do with Spider-Man into every single one of your videos. The last one Harry pulled up was one where you and a bunch of girls were making ice cream sundaes and you had a pink beanie on with the classic Mary Jane Spider-Man heart on the front.

Harrison kept lightly punching Tom’s shoulder in disbelief and Tom just stared forward. “The media is calling her the ‘real life Mary Jane’!” Harry nearly shouted, Tom switching between the tabs himself. “How have I never heard of her?”

“Well she just released the video with the t-shirt, and that seems to be what blew up overnight. The rest were subtle enough that nobody really put it together.” Harrison explained, grabbing Tom’s phone and looking up your Instagram handle. He handed it back to Tom, and sure enough there you were on the cover of Cosmo, wearing that same Spider-Man t-shirt and the same beanie, the headline reading “New Popstar is the Real Life Mary Jane” and you had a sucker hanging out of your mouth.

“What are you going to do?” Harry asked, expectantly. Tom stared at his phone, unsure of how to proceed. “I mean, do you think I should do something?” The boys stared at him, dumbfounded. “You have to, are you kidding me?” Harry shouted again, knocking Tom upside the head. Harrison added, “Mate she’s gorgeous, and she is being handed to you on a silver platter. This is a golden opportunity, you might as well, right?” Tom sat and thought for a moment before ushering the boys out. “I need a minute to think, okay?” He closed the door behind them and heard the two snickering from outside. “If he doesn’t do something, I will. I could be Peter Parker, right?” You heard Harry mumble and Tom just hollered, “Piss off!” And the two took off laughing.

Tom sat back down on his bed and pulled out his phone. He had been tagged by over 3,000 people to look at your post of the article cover. He must have been really distracted from his phone to not notice today, so he googled your name. As he was scrolling, he found a video of you dated a couple of months back, answering questions for an interview. “So, who would be your celebrity crush?” The interviewer asked. You paused and smiled at the floor before answering, “Well I guess I would have to say Tom Holland. He is about as close to Peter Parker as I will ever get!” You and the interviewer laughed, and he continued, “Yeah, you have said in the past that you are a fan of Spider-Man, when did that start?”

“Honestly, I have loved Spider-Man as long as I can remember. I grew up watching the movies, collecting the comics, tucked under the covers with a flashlight reading them every night.” You giggled again and the interviewer continued. “No kidding! So why not Tobey Maguire? Or Andrew Garfield?” Tom watched as you looked between the camera and the interviewer before landing on the camera. “Well, Tom was Stan Lee’s pick for Spider-Man so, I think that answers that!” The interviewer led the questions elsewhere, and you seemed to answer them all with ease. Tom did notice that you were blushed only when talking about him and that made him blush just as bright.

He pulled your Instagram back up and scrolled through your photos for a while. You seemed like a relatively normal girl, all your posts of new song releases or pictures of your dog. Finally, he clicked the follow button and opened his dms.

You were on set for your next music video release, busy getting your make up touched up when your phone kept buzzing in your pocket. You pulled it out, deciding that since you had a few minutes of spare time you would see what was going on. You tried not to spend too much time on your phone while you were on set, still trying to figure out the do’s and don’ts of the industry since you were so new. You glanced down as your phone screen lit up, and you almost dropped it. You tried to shout out to your best friend, but all the wind left your lungs and you just took off running. You called out to the director, “I am gonna need a five-minute break!” And kept running until you collided with your best friend, Grace. “Ow, y/n! What the hell?” You had no words, you just handed your phone to her and kept pinching yourself. “Holy shit. Holy shit!” Grace started shouting, seeing the notification.

Tom Holland (@tomholland2013) has started following you

You collapsed onto the couch and felt a shiver run down your spine. “Calm down! We figured this would happen eventually, right? You weren’t exactly being subtle, and with the new tabloids…” Grace sat next to you but fell silent after a moment. You figured she was just reading it again but after a minute of her not saying anything you looked up. “Well now what, Grace?” Her skin looked pale and she was trying to suppress a smile. “Now, you answer this.”

She handed your phone back to you and you read the dm, and then you read it again, and then you read it out loud because that had to make it real right?

“Do you prefer going by Y/N or Mary Jane?”

You couldn’t describe the feeling coursing through your body, and Grace held onto you to keep you stable. “What are you going to say, girl?” You shook your head for a moment before saying, “I have no idea.” And attempted to type out a response four different times, with feedback from your manager and Grace of course, before landing on, “Usually Y/N, but it’s never too late to pick up a new nickname. How are you?”

You felt like it wasn’t perfect, but it was the best you could come up with in the moment and you sent it. A few minutes passed of you erratically checking your phone before he responded, “I’m doing well, thanks. I was just reading up on this article I found today. Some very interesting things in there. I didn’t know I had such a huge fan.”

You smiled and answered, “I’m sure you have a million fans that love you, I just get to have a voice to talk about it!”

Several minutes passed without a response and you sighed. “Was that too flippant? I just didn’t want to seem like a crazy person or an over obsessed fan.” You asked Grace, who shook her head. “It was fine sweetie, I’m sure he just got caught up doing something.” You nodded, unsure of her reply as the director poked his head in, clearly pissed that you took off. “Can we please get back to filming?” You jumped up, apologizing profusely and followed him back to the set. After about an hour of filming dance scenes and close ups, you were done for the day. You thanked the director and apologized again for leaving him waiting before returning to your dressing room. There you found your phone unattended, and you opened it again to find two missed dms.

“You wouldn’t want to grab dinner sometime this week, would you?”

“Sorry, I hope that wasn’t too forward. If you aren’t interested, I totally understand.”

You could have thrown up right there. You probably would have if you weren’t wearing your new Spider-Man sneakers that you would avoid ever getting dirty. It gave you an idea.

Tom checked his phone repeatedly for the next hour, concerned he pushed it too far. “What if it’s a marketing scheme?” He asked his brother who shook his head. “It’s not, Tom. She is probably just busy-“ A notification going off on Tom’s phone brought them all back to reality as he pulled it out and read the message out loud.

“Sorry for the delay, I was caught up filming.” Followed by a picture of what appeared to be Spider-Man themed tennis shoes. A few seconds later another message popped up, “I would love to get dinner with you. How does Thursday sound?” Tom threw his fist in the air triumphantly before texting you back. He couldn’t wait to meet you, and you two spent the rest of the night planning your dinner. Harry stood up and patted Tom on the back saying, “I can just hear the tabloids now. ‘Extra! Extra! Read all about it!’” They both laughed and Tom shoved him playfully before he returned to his phone. Today turned out much different than either of you expected, but Tom felt like he had something really good on his hands. A notification popped on his phone from Jon Watts, the director of the Spider-Man movies.

“Hey kid, I need you to reach out to Y/N L/N. We want to get her to make a song for SM3.”

“No worries, way ahead of you.”

#tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfics #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tomholland #tom holland #peter parker fanfics #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #peterparker #peter parker #spiderman fluff #spiderman fanfics #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman smut #spiderman

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princess-of-riviaa · 4 years ago

Text

Record Breaking

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (first person POV)

Summary: Porn without plot, or the time Henry wants to bring your pleasure to new levels.

Warning(s): dirty talk, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, aftercare

Word Count: 2,766

“How many times have you cum before?”

It’s an intimate question, one I take by surprise. I audibly gasp at Henry as he finally closes the distance between us. His hands come up to rest on the counter on either side of my hips, blocking me in. He leans down to bring his face close to mine and my arousal starts to drip through my panties at the lustful look he’s giving me.

“Um…” I struggle to remember his question, let alone think of an answer. “F-four. That’s my record.”

He quirks an eyebrow, like this surprises him. “Four? And who was the magical guy that did that to you? Anyone I know?”

I swallow before shaking my head no. “It was… on my own. I’ve never actually had more than one orgasm with a guy before.”

I swear his pupils dilate even more at that. “I swear I’m gonna keep you here and make you touch yourself until you orgasm that many times one day, but as for now…” His lips brush against my neck, just under my ear, and I shiver, which makes my chest brush against his. Every inch of me is already on fire and he hasn’t even done anything. His mouth latches onto my skin and begins to suck hard enough for me to cry out in pleasure. When he finally pulls away, there’s a cocky grin on his face--he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “As for now, little one, I’m going to be the one to make you cum. Over and over again. Until we break that little record of yours. How does that sound?”

I’m only able to nod, my arousal locking my throat up.

He smiles before kissing me, his tongue instantly pushing inside my mouth. I moan loudly, which only grants him more access to me. His hands latch around my hips and pull me tight against him. I feel like putty in his arms with the way he’s making me burn alive. He nudges his leg between mine, moving me until I’m practically sitting on his thigh. He begins to move my hips back and forth. I know exactly what he’s doing, but I’m just too fucking aroused to feel nervous about it. My hips move of their own accord. His hands return to my sides and he watches my expression as I begin to ride his thigh with fervor.

“That’s it, little one, I want you to ride my thigh,” he growls, the sound of his voice making my breasts ache. “Ride me until you’re staining my clothes with your cum.”

I don’t dare stop, feeling my mind numb with a blissful fog. Either Henry’s a mind reader or he can see what I want written clearly on my face because a second later he’s ripping my dress off of me and kneading my breasts in his hands.

“Oh, fuck!” I cry out. I clutch onto his shirt, needing something to ground me.

“The things I’m gonna do to you, to this perfect body of yours… God I can’t wait to destroy your fucking pussy.”

His words and the images they procure in my mind make me moan. My hips begin to move even faster. I can practically taste my first orgasm now and my eyes squeeze shut as I chase it down.

“F-fuck!” I cry out as my body explodes with pleasure so intense that I can’t breathe for several seconds. Fuck, fuck, fuck he feels so good, and he hasn’t even touched me yet…

He kisses me slowly. It’s the kind of kiss that I can feel in every inch of my body. “You’re such a little slut, coming all over my leg like that…” He pulls his leg back and we both glance down at the wet spot on his jeans. “Look at the mess you made.”

“I’m sorry…” I gasp out, still feeling the effects of my orgasm.

“No you’re not,” he laughs darkly. Then he sets me on top of the counter and forces my legs apart. “But you’re about to be.”

I open my mouth to ask him what that means, but a second later he shoves a thick, calloused finger inside of me and a moan comes out of me instead of words. He moves his finger in and out of me at a pace too slow to do anything but tease me.

“P-please…” I cry out.

“Please what?” His voice is a low growl.

“Please fuck me,” I manage to get out. “I want to cum on your hand.” Normally I’m too embarrassed to talk dirty, but my arousal has pushed me past the point of modesty.

Henry licks a stripe up my neck before nipping up my ear. I melt into him just as he adds another finger. The stretch comes with a painful sting but it’s gone the moment he starts curling his fingers inside of me, replacing the pain with hot euphoria. It takes just a few flicks of his skilled fingers to make me reach the edge. One touch of his thumb against my clit pushes me over the edge and I clench his shirt as my body shakes uncontrollably. My breath gets stuck in my throat, my vision turning white.

“H-holy fuck,” I gasp out. A second later Henry’s fingers are pushing their way into my mouth. I taste my arousal as my tongue brushes against his thick digits. My gaze jumps to his as I suck on his fingers. The way he looks at me… I can tell he’s thinking of shoving something else inside my mouth and letting me suck on that instead. I let out a pornagraphic moan around his fingers, just to tease him.

“If I had known you were such a fucking slut…” he begins, but never finishes his thought.

I wait until he pulls his fingers out of my mouth to reply, “What? What would you have done?”

He places his hand on my stomach and pushes me back until I’m lying across his counter. His hand slowly crawls up my body until it wraps around my throat. I let out a moan as he tightens his grip, choking me.

“I would have claimed you as mine a lot sooner,” he says, and then he puts his mouth on me.

He licks a long stripe up my already-soaked folds. That is enough to make my entire body shudder. My pussy is sensitive from the last two orgasms and the stimulation hurts, but that fire in my core is still too far away for my liking. I want to be surrounded by it; I want to be burned alive in it. And I want Henry to be the one to make me feel it.

If there’s one thing I take away from tonight, it’s that Henry Cavill deserves a fucking gold medal in eating a girl out. That tongue of his is magical and he knows just how to use it. I’m gasping and writhing beneath him in no time. He gives attention to both my clit and my entrance, occasionally fucking his tongue in and out of me well enough to make my eyes roll back in my head. I clutch his curls between my fingers, torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to bring him closer to my pussy, even though he’s already as close as possible. His hands find their way under my ass and lift me up from the counter so he has a better angle. My hips buck up to meet every movement of his tongue until I’m coming, I’m coming so intensely that I squirt. He steps back but still keeps a finger brushing over my clit, making me squirt for several long seconds. I have no doubt I’m making a total mess of his kitchen floor, but that’s the last thing on my mind right now.

When I’m able to focus again, his mouth is on mine. I kiss him back hungrily. Henry’s suddenly covered in too many layers; I want him open and vulnerable, just how I am. I reach for his shirt, but he must know what I want because he yanks it over his head and tosses it on the ground before I have to say anything. I gasp at the sight of him.

Henry Cavill is a high-status actor. There’s no doubt about it. There’s also no doubt about his perfect physique, since there’s plenty of shirtless workout photos of him on the internet. But Henry Cavill, the actor, the star, the celebrity--that’s not who I’ve gotten to know in this last month over nervous dates and late-night phone calls. The Henry I’ve gotten to know is a simple guy who plays video games and loves his dog and is insecure about his body, unable to see the perfections in himself. The Henry I know, the Henry I’m falling for, is so human it overwhelms me sometimes. And now, as I see him shirtless in person for the first time, it’s like those two different versions of Henry are colliding and morphing to become one. I suddenly feel awestruck and intimidated, like I don’t deserve to see him like this.

“Shit,” Henry grumbles.

I meet his gaze to find him staring at me like I’ve disappointed him. “What is it?”

“You’re doing it,” he says, like it should be obvious. “You’re suddenly remembering I’m Superman, I’m the Mission Impossible guy, I’m The Witcher.”

With every passing second I can sense him building his walls higher, locking his heart away from me.

“Henry…” I start, but don’t know what to say. He’s right; I am doing that--I’m completely dehumanizing him, idolizing him, turning him into a god in my head. And I promised on our first date--the first time we saw each other in person after being two strangers who texted for weeks--that he didn’t have to worry about me ever doing that.

He turns to pick up his shirt, but before he can put it back on I grab his arm. Carefully, but hard enough to gain his attention.

“You’re not Henry Cavill to me,” I tell him. “You’re not the same Henry to me as you are to every other person in the world. You don’t have to prove anything, be anything other than who you are. You’re an actor who’s been in huge, successful films because you’re talented, and I applaud you for that, but it doesn’t change how I see you.” I won’t let it change how I see you. “You’re not just the movie guy to me, okay?”

He hesitates. The look in his eyes tells me I’ve convinced him, but his body betrays him.

“You’re Henry,” I continue, “the guy who’s best friend is his dog. You’re the guy that bought me a new pair of shoes when my heel broke on our first date. You’re the guy who I hate taking to family dinners purely because you get along with my family better than I do. You’re not the movie guy to me, you’re a million other things. So please don’t put your shirt on. I want to look at you.”

That convinces him. He lets go of his shirt and keeps his arms at his side, letting me take in every inch of him. He’s not even flexing yet his abs and biceps are outlined clearly beneath his skin. He’s large, his shirts hiding just how broad he is. Dark, curly hair swirls around his pecs and beneath his naval, hugged on either side by the V of his hips, which disappears beneath his jeans. I finally notice the erection straining against his zipper and it takes every ounce of self-control not to reach out for it.

“Fuck,” I softly exhale as I bite my lower lip. I’m suddenly very aware of my heart racing in my chest, adding to the heat coursing through my body, and the fact that I’m very, very tiny compared to him. The size difference between us is almost laughable. When I look back at his eyes, I realize just how blown his pupils are. The air between us is electric, filled with sexual tension.

Henry slowly, teasingly slowly, reaches for his jeans. He pops the button. I catch a glimpse of dark blue underwear as he drags his zipper down, taking his time to reveal what I’m so desperate to see.

“Henry,” I whine without meaning to. As soon as his name leaves my mouth I’m blushing like an idiot, though it just makes him smirk.

His fingers hook around his belt loops. He tugs them down. My heart is in my throat at this point and I’m so wet that I can feel my arousal drip onto the counter. My eyes catch onto the writing on the band of his underwear. Calvin Klein is written in bold, white letters. I have no idea why I need to know that, but I feel myself storing that information away for later. His underwear is tented with the thick outline of his erection. I’m just now beginning to realize that Henry is big… everywhere. I swallow when I realize that he’s easily seven inches, but probably closer to eight.

How the hell am I supposed to fit him inside of me? The thought scares me as much as it arouses me.

Henry finally, finally lowers his underwear. I realize I’d been holding my breath when I let out a humiliating moan at the sight of his cock. There’s a thick vein that runs along the side. He curves a bit along the head, and his tip is red and already leaking pre-cum. I lick my lips, wanting him in my mouth as much as I want him buried deep inside of me.

When he finally speaks, his voice is loud amidst the quiet tension. “If you aren’t ready to do this, tell me now, because in a few seconds I won’t be able to stop.”

I force my gaze to meet his. My want must be written all over my face because he doesn’t hesitate a second longer. He closes the distance between us and pulls me in for a slow, sensual kiss that I feel in every inch of my body.

“I want you,” I get out between breathless kisses.

He growls in response and his mouth begins to trail down my neck, down my chest. He stops to suck on each of my nipples before moving his mouth lower.

“Henry!” I call out before he can put his mouth on me again.

He freezes and looks up at me, his eyes completely dark with sinful lust.

“I don’t want your mouth,” I say. “I want--I need…”

“Use your words, little one.” He kisses each of my hips as he waits for me to speak. The way he touches me sends me straight to cloud nine. His hands, his mouth, his tongue--everything about him is addicting.

“I want you inside of me,” I admit. “I want you to fuck me, Henry.”

His smile presses against my skin. A second later he stands up and wraps his hand around his cock. I let out a ridiculous moan as he drags it between my folds, not just to soak up my wetness but to tease me until I’m close to the edge again. I reach out for him, grabbing onto his arm as he grips my hip in his hand. With his other hand he guides his cock to my entrance. He barely pushes an inch inside of me before the pain starts, my walls already stretching to the point of a bitter sting. I hold my breath as he slowly enters me, careful not to go too fast. My legs are spread wide on the counter, allowing me to watch his cock disappear inside my pussy. I let out a small whimper when he’s not even halfway inside of me; I swear it feels like he’s ripping my body in half. He’s so big, and I’m so tiny, so tight… But the pain is gone as soon as he bottoms out inside of me, his head resting snugly against my cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” Henry grunts out as he leans in for a kiss. This kiss isn’t about the passion or the heat--it’s his way of telling me that this moment is as much about me as it is about him, and if I need him to stop, he’ll stop. He won’t push me. I can trust him.

And I do trust him, enough to say, “Fuck me, Henry.”

...

Tag Squad:

@agniavateira @hnryycvll @littlefreya @celestial-vomit @lestersglitterglue @watermeloncavill @honeychicana @penwieldingdreamer @mary-ann84 @elixasays @buckysgoldenheart @noz4a2 @trippedmetaldetector @omgkatinka @lunedelorient @aphrodites-punch @yespolkadotkitty @sweetybuzz25 @iloveyouyen @deathonyourtongue @utterlyhopeful @wondersofdreaming @tsukuyomi011 @the-soot-sprite @desperate-and-broken @jayismz @emelinelovesjc @palaiasaurus64 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @henrythickcavill @secretlyactivated @madbaddic7ed @persephonehemingway @geralt-of-baevia @stargazingfangirl18 @thedarkplume @spookypeachx @pensieveforyourthoughts @aletheladyinred @littlemissthistle @designerwriterchic @becs-bunker @angelic-kisses13 @captainbigdy @sestrasasylum

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from my taglist!

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill kiss #henry cavill fanfic

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mah-gah-lee · 4 years ago

Text

walking in the snow and getting knocked by a dog - owen joyner x female reader

GIF ORIGINALLY POSTED BY @lukefromsunsetcurve

Word Count: 1481 words

Summary: You were on your aunt’s house for holiday. When you went for a walk, you didn’t expect meeting a charming man and his dogs.

Warnings: fluffy

A/N: Okay, that’s my first Owen x female reader, again, don’t forget English is not my first langage. Hope you’ll enjoy

disclaimer: I don't know Owen personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Owen's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…I heard maybe he has one, so I don’t know but I don’t want to offend her). All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove

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You had been at your aunt's house for two days now and you couldn't be more bored than now. Being in Oklahoma was the worst. You didn't want to come there but, family traditions are everything, you've always been okay with that. So, every year your whole family gets together in someone's place, you change houses every year. This time you were supposed to go to your mother's sister and a few months ago she had moved to Norman, Oklahoma for work.

You were in your cousin’s room and there was nothing to do. You were the older child of the family, almost an adult, and even if you get along well with your cousin, being 5 years apart really made a difference. You grabbed your laptop to browse the different Netflix shows to watch but nothing really tempted you. You sighed heavily in exasperation then your gaze shifted to the window. It was snowing and you loved the snow.

“look (y/c/n), it’s snowing! You want to go for a walk?”

“hell no, I hate being cold”

You frowned your eyebrows and jumped on your own two feet, determined to go out in this weather. You opened your suitcase and looked for a warmer sweater and an extra pair of socks. When you came down to the hall, your mother was looking at you.

"What are you doing?"

"I'll take a walk around the neighborhood."

"Make sure you have your phone if you ever get lost."

"Mom, I'm twenty years old and I'm not going very far" you replied, rolling your eyes.

You put on the perfect winter outfit: warm coat, hat, scarf and gloves and then you went out, checking that your phone still had enough battery. The cold hit your cheeks but that didn't stop you from smiling to the fullest. You loved this feeling. You buried your hands in your pockets and started walking around the neighborhood. You must have been about two blocks away when you noticed three people down the street. You scowled a little at the sight of the two Rottweilers. You knew that the breed did not make the character of the dog but you had apprehension about all the dogs that you met. When you were little, you got bitten by a Cavalier King Charles spaniel. So, even if the dogs were big, small, the muzzle flattened or not, you had always been a little scared.

You walked a few steps trying to avoid them. Unfortunately, you saw a blond make a video calling one of the dogs. And even though the couple who accompanied the young man, held the second dog on a leash, the grip released easily and the dog escaped, running in excitement towards his companion. In the heat of the moment, the dog got tangled in your paws and you fell backwards in a pile of snow.

“Jesus”

The second dog felt your face very quickly, giving you a light lick before leaving immediately, called by its owners. You stood for what seemed like several seconds on the ground, stunned. And when you blinked you saw the blond young man leaning over your face. He was holding back the dog he had called as best he could.

"Are you alright?"

"I think your dog just struck a strike and busted my head"

A slight laugh escaped the blonde's lips and he reached out his hand to help you up.

"Sorry about that, they're very nice but a little excited. I'm Owen ..."

"Nice to meet you, Owen"

You dusted off the rest of the snow still clinging to your pants as the young man stared at you.

"Sooo, what's your name? Where do you live and how many fingers do I have?"

He asked you, showing you 3 fingers directly on your face. You have squared your eyes a little against the proximity of his hand in front of your eyes. It was quite spontaneous as a gesture.

"I'm (y / n) it's none of your business and you have 3 fingers...and that's a stupid question because every fucking time people show you 3 fingers"

His laughter is freed and you take the time to detail it a little. How did he manage not to be cold with a simple sweater and a pink beanie?

"Okay you're pretty straightforward and pretty funny. In my defense, I was checking that you didn't have a concussion"

"asking me for information you don't know?" you joked

"heyyy, I knew I had three fingers"

You burst out laughing and then jumped when you felt something cold through your jeans. Your gaze fell on the dog sniffing your leg.

"Bindi won't do anything to you. She's just ... getting to know you."

You were a little tense but obviously, the dog seemed harmless, you tried a new note of humor

"As long as she doesn’t try to get to know me like her sidekick did."

You gave a nudge in the direction of the couple who were moving away with the second dog, you gave them a smile which they returned to you without hesitation. Owen smiled and gave you a mischievous look.

"It's a tactic like any other for meeting pretty girls."

You blushed at the compliment, the boy seemed so pleasant to live with, lively and with a lot of humor. You could hear it just by the sound of his voice that's why you didn't hold back from playing his game.

"Oh great approach. Let your dog run over a girl, right in front of your parents. What a gentleman! I'm in love" you finished your dozing by dramatically fluttering your eyelashes.

He smiled at you again, running his tongue over your lower lip. Your eyes were hypnotized by the gesture. Owen had a frank, bright smile so sincere you felt your heart leap in your chest. This man was really lovely.

"Can I offer you a hot chocolate to apologize for this rather hectic meeting"

You tilted your head over your boots, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting. You wanted to say yes to him and go with him for that hot chocolate. But you didn't know him, or barely. You bit your lower lip, giving him a sorry look.

"Maybe next time. I'm soaked ... But ... maybe you can take me back to my aunt's place?"

You couldn't help but notice the slightly disappointed look he gave you, but he agreed. You started to walk towards the house as Owen stood beside you. Silence had fallen for several minutes when you glanced discreetly at Owen ... and he also did when you weren't looking.

Owen was tall, quite well built and you kept thinking about his smile and the way his eyes narrowed every time he laughed. He was really, really charming, but you didn't know how to act around him. After all, he was a complete stranger.

"So where are you from?"

"Chicago. I'm here for the holidays. How about you, have you always lived here?"

"Until last year, yes. I lived in Vancouver for a while and ... I am moving to my own apartment soon"

Your eyes widened in admiration when he mentioned Vancouver and you blinked.

"You went to live in Canada ... How awesome it must have been. I love Canada!"

Owen laughed and pursed his lips, forcing himself not to smile even though the attempt was in vain.

"Oh my god, it sounds like Charlie"

You frowned, not knowing if you should know who this Charlie was. You suddenly felt outside the conversation.

"Oh ... Charlie is my old roommate ... He's Canadian and ... he loves his country."

You gave him a knowing look and nodded. You could only agree with this Charlie. Canada seemed like such an amazing country. You arrived far too quickly in the street where your aunt's house was and you winced in disappointment.

"My aunt lives on this street."

Owen nodded and walked with you to the threshold. Binda sat down at his feet, quietly as the blond scratched the back of his head.

"Can we ... can we just keep in touch and have that hot chocolate one of these days?"

You gave him a shy smile, and nodded as Owen struggled to pull out his phone and type in your number when you gave it to him. When he put his phone back in his pocket, you gave him a soft look and walked over to him, placing a spontaneous kiss on his cheek. Without realizing it and very naturally, you caressed Bindi's head with a smile.

"Bye Owen. Bye Bindi. See you one of these days for that hot chocolate."

You then walked back into the house, closing the door behind you, leaving a rosy-cheeked Owen as his dog gasped in excitement.

"What do you say Bindi? She looks pretty cool, doesn't she?"

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner x reader #jatp fic #jatp imagines

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