#Not surprised he hates it when it gets muggy.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask & this ask

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, obsession

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1:

Coriolanus, now Private Snow, hated District 12. It was so depressing. Between the coal dust, mud, and poverty, he’s surprised that half of the district's population hasn't killed themselves yet. The atmosphere is horrible.

He hates it.

Would've never made it to adulthood if he was raised in the back hills of the Appalachian mountains. Seriously, he would've offed himself. Between the mud, the muggy heat, the never ending coal dust, the bugs (locals call them skeeters), and the overall atmosphere of despair, he hates District 12.

Oh, how he missed the view of the Rockies that surround his beloved Capitol. He had such a lovely view of the superior mountain range from his former penthouse. Even though it was falling apart, moldy, and rat infested, the penthouse was still on the Corso. Was still in the wealthiest part of town. Yes, he was struggling to stay afloat; was impoverished, but at least he lived in the prized and most sought after part of the Capitol.

Keyword: lived. As in past tense, as in he used to live there. Now he lives on Peacekeeper Base-12, District 12.

From a 12th floor Corso penthouse to a peacekeeper’s base in 12. Oh, how Coriolanus Snow has fallen.

High-as-a-kite-bottom must be shitting rainbows at Coriolanus being a peacekeeper in a backwater district.

And to think he was originally assigned to the peacekeeper base in 8. Oh, how he's glad he spent every last cent to his name to bribe his way into service in 12. He doubts that he could survive District 8 considering it's full of nothing but smog, tenant buildings, and textile factories.

At least in 12 he has some fresh air to breathe.

But, he hasn't been able to find his reason for being in 12.

Lucy Gray.

He's been in 12 for a few weeks now and can't locate her. Even Sejanus can't get anyone to tell him where she's at. That's bad considering how everyone seems to trust Sejanus; open up to the naive revolutionary due to his warm and friendly personality.

So, Coriolanus is stuck patrolling the streets of District 12 while rethinking his life choices. God, how he wants to be back in the Capitol so bad. He'll do anything to get back.

Anything at all.

One day, while on patrol in the Merchant Sector, he spotted you, a pretty Seam girl, making her way to the apothecary shop.

You had on a pretty floral dress.

No, not just a floral dress, but a dress with tiny red roses on it.

It suited you.

You had a book tucked under your arm as you walked down the cobbled streets of the nicer part of the district. And when you noticed him, you gave him a small smile.

That was the biggest goddamn mistake you've ever made in your entire life!

That one small smile sent Coriolanus’ mind into overdrive. You were so kind to him with that one tiny gesture. So kind when everyone else in the district looked at him with disgust because of the uniform he wore on a daily basis. Everyone else in this back asswards district looked at him like a bug to be squashed, but you didn't. You looked at him like he was a genuine person.

Your small smile was full of warmth and sunshine. It reminded him of his mother, who he lost such a long time ago.

Oh, how he secretly craved the warm gentleness of a woman. The warm gentleness that he's only known while in the embrace of his mother.

He wonders if you would sing to him late at night when sleep seemed to evade him. When he was deep in thought, too focused on a problem that needed solving to sleep. Would you wrap your arms around him, hold him when he needed solace? Would you be that gentle woman's touch he's craved his entire life?

Yes.

Yes, you will be.

Coriolanus vowed that he'd find a way back to the Capitol, but now that's changed. Now, he needs to find a way to bring both of you back to the Capitol.

As delusional as it might seem Coriolanus was instantly obsessed with you all because you gave him a kind, small smile while on your way to intern at the apothecary shop.

But he didn't view it as obsession, instead he viewed it as love. And he loves you with his entire being all because you smiled sweetly at him.

Your older brother Rein and his girlfriend Ashlie raised you to be leery and fearful of peacekeepers. They told you not to trust them; to stay away from them. And most of all, they told you to never ever look them in the eye or talk to them.

Not unless you wanted trouble to rain down on you like hellfire, that is.

But you made the mistake of flashing one a smile while on your way to the apothecary. The peacekeeper was young, you reckon around your age, and very tall. He had to be one of the tallest men you've ever seen in your entire life. But it wasn't his height that made you notice him. No, it was his eyes. Eyes such a pure blue, that they reminded you of the beautiful crystal clear water of the lake.

He seemed unlike any man you've ever seen before. Yes, he was a peacekeeper on watch duty, but he looked miserable. As if he didn't want to be here.

So, before you could think twice, you gave him a small, warm and friendly smile. Hoping that maybe you could cheer him up. Make his day a bit brighter in the desolate, depressing coal mining district you were cursed to be living in.

To your surprise, he smiled back. It was a closed lip smile, but it took over his entire face and just made his eyes sparkle. Made him look youthful underneath his peacekeeper's persona.

You barely made it a yard away from him when suddenly, a large shadow loomed over you. Looking up, you saw that the very same peacekeeper you just shared a smile with was right next to you. Walking by your side, like your personal golden retriever.

Except you didn't know that Private Snow isn't a golden retriever. He's more like a demon possessed Chihuahua from the deepest pits of hell. Shit, scratch that, he's legit the hellhound Cerberus that's guards the gate to the underworld for Hades.

Mhm…

But you didn't know that. How could you? You've just seen the man. Up until now he's been nothing, but a stranger to you.

Just another random peacekeeper.

“Um, hi.” You greeted your new companion, your voice a near stutter, as you passed by townspeople and shopkeepers while walking down the cobblestone street of the Merchant Sector.

Everyone looked a bit wide-eyed since you were side by side with a peacekeeper. Surely your name would be in the gossip mill tonight; it wouldn't be anything good either. Your older brother was going to flip his shit when he found out.

“Hello, Miss-” The peacekeeper at your side greeted, leaving an opening hanging for you to supply him your name.

“Y/N Halvir.” You simply supplied.

“Well, Miss Y/N, I'm Private Coriolanus Snow; I thought perhaps I could escort you to wherever you're going since, after all, it's my duty to patrol these streets and keep the good law-abiding citizens of 12 safe from harm.” Coriolanus told you, laying the charm on real thick since he wanted you to believe that he just wanted to do something nice and dutiful for you. He didn't want you to know that he wanted to take you to your destination in order to show you off to the entire Merchant Sector. To make sure that everyone (and he means everyone) in that part of 12 knows that you're with him.

Commissioned Officers are the only ones allowed in the Peacekeepers to have serious relationships (usually they would have an arranged match in the Capitol) but he didn't care. Coriolanus Snow did what he wanted; the hell with anybody else. He wanted something, he took it. Right now, he wanted you.

So…

He was taking you.

Or at least he would be taking you back to the Capitol with him once he figures out a way back there. But as for right now, Private Snow was letting everyone see you together; letting everyone know that you were his girl.

His girl and off limits to anyone else.

And if someone even did so much as look at you sideways, well, he'd kill them.

“Oh, you don't have to. The apothecary’s right up the bend and I'd hate to be a bother; make you take time out just to walk me there.”

“It's not a bother at all, darling. In fact, I insist on walking with you, to keep you safe.” Private Snow smiled, seeming to be a friendly and helpful gentleman underneath his grey uniform. “Never know who out there might try to harm such a pretty girl, like you.” He added in to drive home his reason for walking with you.

Hearing him call you pretty made your cheeks grow hot. Oh my… Nobody's called you pretty before, not even your own brother and his girlfriend (and they raised you). No, Rein and Ashlie always said that you looked nice.

Coriolanus calling you pretty did something to you.

The peacekeeper smirked to himself, knowing that his words had ensnared you to him. He honestly did think you were pretty, so having you react to the compliment by getting all flustered made his heart soar. It gave his obsessive nature a large ego boost, because to him your reaction meant that you loved him back, just like he loved you.

That the two of you shared the unbreakable bond of love at first sight.

But the truth of the matter was that Coriolanus was obsessed with you in an unhealthy way after seeing you and sharing a few words while you were just a kind person that wasn't used to being called pretty

You're from the Seam; girls from the seem don't get called pretty.

Well, not unless they're one Lucy Gray Baird.

But that reality would never be Private Snow's reality. No, his reality’s one where you're both crazy in love with each other after sharing smiles, a few words, and a walk.

Coming to a stop right in front of the apothecary, you looked at the peacekeeper and politely told him, “Thank you for walking me here, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus leaned forward, closing the space between you, only to request, “Please, call me Coryo. All my friends and family do.”

His words took you aback. Blinking, you asked in disbelief, “You want to be friends?”

“Yes.” Coryo nodded, a too wide smile showcasing his pearly whites on his face.

Lie!

That was a big fat fucking lie!

He didn't want to be your friend, he wanted to be your boyfriend. No, no. That's not true either. Scratch that, Peacekeeper Snow wanted to be your husband.

Yes, that's right. He just met you and barely knows you, but he wants to be your husband. All because he's obsessed with you; thinks that you share some kind of special undying love all because of a kind smile and a blush.

Boy oh boy, seems like he forgot about Lucy Gray real quick.

Lucy Gray. Lucy Gray who?

She didn't matter to him anymore. Coriolanus realizes now that the songbird was just a means to an end; that it would've never worked out between them.

That you're his true prize. The girl that's meant for him. The girl that's kind and pretty, just like his mother used to be before she was taken away from him by dying in the birthing bed with his baby sister.

You're his perfect girl.

“Okay. We can be friends.” You naively responded.

If only you knew what he truly meant by ‘being friends’. It'd save your family a whole lot of trouble and heartbreak. That's for sure.

“I'll wait around; escort you back when your done.” Coriolanus offered as the young dirty blonde man inside of the apothecary shop looked at the window, stunned to see you talking so easily with a peacekeeper.

A peacekeeper that had no need for herbs, remedies, and healers since he had access to all the modern medical marvels Panem’s Capitol had to offer at the PKB-12 Military Hospital. The young shopkeeper was concerned for your safety, seeing you exchanging words effortlessly with the uniformed grunt.

“I’m interning here til 5:30, sometimes 6.” You told Coriolanus because you didn't want your new friend waiting around for you when he had work to do.

Before Coriolanus could tell you that he'd be back around then to escort you home, the door to the apothecary flung open and out walked Juris Ashberry.

Juris was a dirty blonde of average height that you had gone to school with. His father was a clerk at the Justice Building; worked closely with the mayor. His mother was good friends with the old hag that owned the apothecary.

So, Juris arranged for you to get an internship at the shop after his family had arranged for him to be in a courtship with Belladonna, the daughter of the old hag that ran the apothecary.

Belladonna hated you because her intended, Juris, had a sweet spot for you. A sweet spot he was too chicken to openly declare.

And it was the worried look in his eyes that tipped Coriolanus off that the man who just walked out of the apothecary felt something for you. He wanted to stab that dirty merchant boy's eyes out for looking at you.

Coriolanus is the only one allowed to look at you with such sweet worry and care.

“Y/N, you're needed inside.” Juris told you as a way to separate you and Coryo. His eyes sized up the Capitol born and bred peacekeeper, concluding that if he had to then he could take the tall and athletically built peacekeeper on in a fight.

“Bye, Coryo.” You waved at your new friend before turning towards the apothecary.

You were almost to the door whenever it opened and out strolled Belladonna, your boss's daughter. She gave you a glare before skipping over to Juris and snatching his hand in hers. “Now that she's finally here, we can go have midmorning tea with Mayfair and Billy.”

Juris just nodded before silently walking off with Belladonna in the direction that the Mayor's large lavish house was in.

Coriolanus didn't like Juris. Even though Juris has himself a pretty flaxen blonde on his arm, the way he looked at you was dangerous. And the fact that the man seemed comfortable at your place of employment (internship, but practically the same thing) didn't go over well with him either.

Coriolanus decided that he needed to get you away from that dirty blonde man; he needed to make you dependent on him. And he needed to do those things because it was the only way to ensure that you'll join him back in the Capitol.

So, while you went about your midmorning in the apothecary, Coriolanus patrolled the streets while scheming up a way to get you fired. Hmm, maybe he could threaten the shopkeeper’s family? People seemed to do anything to keep their family safe.

Whatever he’s got to do to get you out of that shop, he’s going to do it. He was going to stop at nothing to have you on his arm as he stepped out of the train and onto the platform during his return to the best city in all of Panem.

The Capitol.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @staylowessafe

[dustofthedailylife]

No Gift Greater Than Love

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham, Ayato x (gn!) Reader

Summary: It's your birthday so he plans to spend some time with you.

Tags: Fluff, a teeny tiny bit of angst/uncertainty at the beginning if you squint, confessions, kissing, Ayato is being a smooth talker

A/N: I wanted to write a little self-indulgent fic for my birthday today, so here it is. Posting an HSR fic as well later! :3 I also can't add an animated header because tumblr hates me again so, sorry about that! ;_;

ALHAITHAM

You rarely ever took a day off work, not when you were sick, not when you were tired, and especially not when you had so many deadlines coming up. And knowing the perfectionist you are there was no way you’d even rest for a single day until everything was set and done. Only then you would allow yourself to rest. 

So you sat there, at your desk, on your birthday, with your head buried in your books and no other plans but to study all day long. But besides that, you still hoped your friends didn’t forget you and would at least come by to wish you a happy birthday or send you mail. 

Because despite not wanting to make a big deal out of your birthday and running around being like ‘Hey, did you know, today is my birthday?’, reminding people that it was your birthday and expecting gifts, you at least wanted some birthday wishes from your friends. That wasn’t too much to ask, right? Especially after your own brother forgot your birthday last year, which despite having a great day made you cry back then.

So you were positively surprised to find letters from your parents, your brother, Cyno and Tighnari in your mailbox on the morning of your birthday. Kaveh had stopped by before he visited another one of his clients as well to drop off his – quote: “magnum opus of birthday cakes”. Which was essentially just a one-by-one model of your house in cake form - with some additional tweaks he must’ve made out of artistic liberty here and there. It looked almost too good to eat.

Tighnari and Cyno both sent you a small gift and a letter with birthday wishes as well.

The only one who hadn’t yet sent anything or stopped by was Alhaitham. Not like you expected him to actually treat today any differently than any other day in the first place. Birthdays weren’t exactly something he cared about. Yet, despite knowing his attitude towards them, you felt disappointment welling up inside of you. You secretly hoped you would be his exception. But apparently not.

Swallowing the lump in your throat down you dove head first into your study materials to distract yourself. Successfully. Because before you realized the sun was barely just a thin line on the horizon and a knock could be heard on your door.

You peeled yourself away from your desk, stretching your exhausted limbs on the way, only for them to tense up again when you saw who was standing in front of your door. Alhaitham.

“You look tired.” He remarked monotonously.

“Good evening to you, too.” You rolled your eyes, but without being able to suppress a small smile. After all, you knew his antics by now and his blunt statement came out of a place of concern and care. He simply huffed in reply, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a barely noticeable manner.

However, you couldn’t help but wonder about his visit. Could it be that he stopped by because of your–

“Do you still want to go grab dinner?” He inquires, stopping your train of thought.

Right. It was Thursday. The day you usually meet up at the Tavern after work to get dinner with your other friends every week. It totally slipped your mind since you were so buried in your studies all day. Of course, he didn’t stop by just because it was your birthday, stupid.

You nod in reply to his question and quickly grab your keys before following outside into the still-warm and muggy fall air. It smelled like damp leaves that had begun to fall and spices that always seemed to hang into the Sumerian air. It had already gone dark and the moon was hanging high in the sky, framed by a myriad of little sparkling stars. You had always loved the night sky, especially on cloudless nights like tonight.

“Do you mind if we do a little detour?” Alhaitham questioned out of the blue.

“Uh…, no not at all.”

“Good.” He nodded his head to the side, urging you to follow him to wherever he planned to go.

He began walking up the ramp to the Akademiya again, which caused you to assume that he must’ve forgotten something in his office earlier. But when he walked right past his office door and led you outside again you were beginning to wonder.

You were now standing on a secluded balcony. On it stood a blue pavilion with a mosaic roof and a single stone bench that offered a perfect view over Sumeru and the beautifully illuminated night sky.

“Beautiful…”, you mutter in awe.

“Agreed.” Alhaitham mused contently. What you failed to notice at the moment however was, that, unlike you, he wasn’t referring to the view you were referring to. He was looking right at you out of the corners of his eyes.

“I didn’t know there was such a beautiful place up here.” You exclaimed in surprise, leaning on the railing of the balcony.

“I often come here to read. Not many people know of this place.”

You could definitely see why he loved this place so much. But one question began to push itself into the foreground of your mind more and more.

“Why… did you lead me here, though?” You questioned curiously but interrupted yourself when a shooting star appeared in your field of view. “Wait, was that–? Alhaitham, did you see that?”

You turned around excitedly gifting him a smile. And the shine in your eyes sparkled more intensely than the stars in the night sky ever could.

“Close your eyes.” He urged. “Make a wish.”

You grinned widely, turned around to face him, and closed your eyes.

“You have to make your wish too, though.” You reminded him teasingly.

“I already did.”

You tried to think of something to wish for. Especially after being led here you couldn’t think of anything you desired right now. 

Do you? Are you maybe not betraying your own thoughts again? 

No. You didn’t dare to think about what your heart really yearned for. What it truly desired. It would never come true anyway. Alhaitham would never feel the same for you. 

He didn’t even remember your birthday today.

You were just friends.

And yet you couldn’t get the image of kissing him out of your head, continuously replaying in front of your inner eye. No matter how hard you tried to push it away.

There was no way you could wish for–

You felt him inch closer to you. Leaning one hand against the railing behind you while the other hand brushed a strand of hair out of your face before he rested it against your cheek. Spearmint breath and the tangy smell of moss and pines from his aftershave ghosted over your face. He was so close by now that you could feel the heat that radiated off his skin and his breath fan over your lips.

For a moment you thought you could hear that his breath was shaky. Was he nervous?

Your mind was racing a thousand miles per hour at this point, and so was your heart. The irritated muscle was thumping against your chest with such ferocious intensity that you feared he may be able to hear it as well. Question after question and speculation after speculation popped into your mind, completely overwhelming your senses. 

What was he doing? Why was he so close? How long have you had your eyes closed already? What was his plan? All of these were questions you found no immediate answers to.

You slightly parted your lips in order to speak and were just about to open your eyes again when he muttered something. 

Happy Birthday.

Something that made your breath hitch and heart sing as your lips molded together, fulfilling what you had both wished for.

AYATO

You’ve been on your feet since roughly 4:30 a.m., running up and down the halls of the Kamisato Estate to help the Retainers with the preparation of the most important political meeting all year.

Much to your dismay it had to fall exactly on the day of your birthday and had to be held at the Kamisato Estate. Which meant you wouldn’t get to see Ayato for most of the day and had to spend it alone. Well, mostly. The staff, Ayaka and Thoma were still there, too, but just like you, they were busy helping as well. All hands were needed today.

Ayato woke up around the same time you had and wished you a happy birthday first thing before already having to rush out to run errands.

But you understood the importance of the ordeal and were not mad or disappointed. Which seemed to have not gotten through to Ayato yet, who seemed extra touchy today whenever you ran into him in the hallway this morning.

Just now as you were carrying some items into the huge room the conference was supposed to be held in, you walked past Ayato in the hall once again.

Gloved, slender fingers suddenly found a place around your waist and turned you around. One of his hands wandered to the back of your head, pulling your face against his chest while he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

He stayed quiet for a moment, soaking your presence in, and exhaling heavily before uttering yet another apology into your hair.

“My love, please forgive me. I’m so sorry we are not able to spend all of today together to celebrate.”

“How often do I need to reassure you that it is alright, Ayato? I’m not upset in the slightest. In fact, I understand the importance of this. It may be my birthday but at the bottom of it, it is just a day like any other.” You reassured, burying your face deeper into his chest and basking in his warmth for this fleeting moment while inhaling the familiar flowery scent that always seemed to linger around him.

You heard him sigh before you looked up at him. He pressed his lips together into a thin line, before kissing the crown of your head once more with a defeated look in his eyes. One that carried all his thoughts and emotions at once. You knew he was sorry, it was practically written on his face. 

Sorry, that he couldn’t spend your day with you, that he wasn’t able to give you all the attention to deserved, and that he had to waste his precious time away with some boring politicians.

The hand that rested on your waist gave you another reaffirming squeeze before he peeled himself away from you again with a slight frown on his beautiful features. The sadness and disappointment still lingered behind his lilac irises. He was definitely beating himself up over it way more than you did.

“Okay.” He nodded in defeat. “I will see you in the evening, yeah?”

“Alright!” You cheered, giving him an honest smile. “And stop beating yourself up over it, okay?”

He nodded, squeezing your hands with his for one last time before going back to work. 

You continued helping out around the Estate until all the guests arrived and the door to the room all of them vanished into stayed shut. You expected them to stay in there at least until the late afternoon, if not even the evening.

And you were right, the sun had already begun to set when you felt a familiar pair of arms snake around your waist from behind again. You had been sitting outside in the garden and reading your book, soaking in the soothing late summer breeze while eagerly awaiting the end of Ayato's meeting.

"There you are." You hummed contently carding through the soft pastel blue locks of your husband who had his head buried in the crook of your neck. "I missed you."

"And so did I. It's been a long and exhausting day." He spoke in a low voice, as if he was about to drift off to sleep any minute, and slung his arms impossibly tighter around your midriff.

"Let's go for a short stroll to the city, my love. Will you join me? It doesn't sit right with me that you had to spend your birthday in solitude." He proposed in an afflicted tone.

"Aren't you too tired for–"

"I will not hear any objections." He interrupted, lifting his finger against your lips with a smug grin. 

And so you found yourself strolling through Ritou hand in hand. By the time you had arrived, the sun had completely set and the paper lanterns illuminated the streets, draping a comfortable blanket of yellow light over the surrounding area.

It was a quiet night. Just how you preferred it. No massive crowds of people you had to squeeze through, no queues in front of restaurants, and no one who would stop you to talk to Ayato. Just you, him, and the cicadas in the trees that bemoaned the encroaching end of the summer.

"Do you want me to get us some milk tea? I saw that my vendor of choice is still open." He asked when you sat down on a bench underneath a tall maple tree just out of sight of potential prying eyes and not far from said vendor.

"I'd love to."

"Anything specific you’d like me to get?"

"You choose.” You smiled brightly. “Surprise me.”

“Alright. Stay right here, I’ll be right back.”

You watched as he made his way over to the stall, carefully studying the menu with squinted eyes and a hand on his chin. You bit your lip and laughed to yourself because, as always, he was taking this tea business way too seriously.

Eventually, he picked an item before going right back to studying the menu as if he wanted to burn the letters themselves, into his retina. The vendor was visually nervous to be serving the man in front of him in fear of messing anything up and was twirling a straw between his fingers to calm himself. Until your husband finally decided on the second drink he wanted to order.

The vendor carefully handed the drinks to Ayato and promptly refused when he was offered Mora in return. Ayato skillfully ignored the man and promptly put the coins inside the tray before walking back in your direction with two cups of tea in hand.

“So, what did you get for me?” You quizically raised your eyebrows at the drink he handed you.

“I guess there is only one way for you to find out.” He smirked, taking a sip out of his own cup.

You carefully did the same, subconsciously expecting something like salty algae tea with sea ganoderma pearls, because you knew your husband and his strange tastes. But alas, you had signed up for it.

But unlike what you were expecting, black milk tea with a tinge of honey and sunsettia pearls enveloped your tastebuds soon after. Your favorite.

You hummed and closed your eyes with a smile, raveling in the refreshing taste of the beverage, making you forget how lonely you had been most of the day.

“You chose well.” You contently stated after a brief moment of indulging in your tea and looked at Ayato with a smile.

He inched closer to you on the bench with a devilish smirk painted across his lips. He shifted your chin upwards, making eye contact with you for a fleeting moment before uniting his lips with yours in a tender, loving kiss. And after all this time, it never failed to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter about wildly.

He gently took your hand in his as he began to carefully twist the wedding band around your finger. He looked up into your eyes, a sly smile adorned his lips once more before he smugly whispered: “Of course. I always do.” 

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[theewokingdead]

The Wiener of My Heart - Benjamin "Benny" Miller x Reader

Pairing: Benny x Reader (1st POV, no descriptions) Rating: T (blog is 18+) Summary: You and Benny are brought together by your mutual love of dogs. Word Count: 1.4k+ Warnings: Some cringe-worthy puns and innuendos, but it’s Benny so are you really surprised? Language. A/N: I saw a decal on a car in a grocery store parking lot that read “Sometimes I trip over my wiener.” I immediately thought “Benny would 100% have that on his car.” This is pure chaos, and I’m not sorry. Hopefully this doesn’t get lost in translation for anyone, but wiener = wiener dog = dachshund.

{Masterlist}

I fucking hate grocery shopping. It’s one of those things I can’t seem to bring myself to do until I absolutely have to. There’s something about wandering through the endless aisles, searching for the things I need, finding the best price of those things, all while avoiding small talk that I find frustrating. It’s just not worth the hassle, the time, or the stress.

Today’s trip has been a nightmare; there are people everywhere, obstructing every turn and moving in all directions, and the shelves are being emptied as if the end of the world has just been announced.  I will not be surprised if I immediately hear the national alert system going off when I turn on my car.

God, please, if the world is ending let them be The Walking Dead zombies and not the fucking infected from The Last of Us.

I am on edge until I step out the doors and take a deep breath, the heavy, muggy air of Tampa somehow easier to breathe in than the air inside the stuffy store. I made it out alive, and so far, there aren’t any signs of any impending doom. I mean, no more than usual, considering Florida is a dumpster fire on a normal day.

I push the cart to my car, unlock the trunk, and rapidly load the groceries, eager to get home and pour myself a glass of much-deserved wine. I’m only halfway through when I turn and happen to catch sight of the most striking man walk out of the store, several grocery bags in each hand. He is tall, with broad shoulders and strong arms that seem to effortlessly carry the weight of the groceries. The sleeves of his jacket are rolled up enough to see his forearms flex with each step he takes. Something about him oozes rugged charm, and it’s impossible to not be captivated by him.

Fuck, he’s cute.

The man moves in my direction, and I quickly shift my focus and get back to loading my car. I watch out of the corner of my eye as the man approaches the Jeep parked beside me, shifting his bags to unlock it and and lift up the back window. My heart beats a million miles a minute, but I try to ignore it, figuring he’s too far out of my league.

He’s probably a douche anyway, I tell myself, trying to keep from being disappointed when he doesn’t even acknowledge my existence.

Unexpectedly, I hear a deep, quiet laugh, then a smooth, sultry voice speaks, “I’d rather be playing with my wiener too.”

My stomach twists, making me feel sick. The fuck did he just say?

“Excuse me?” I question, whipping toward the stranger faster than I thought humanly possible. My nose scrunches with disgust. The fucking audacity of this man. He’s not just a douche, but a fucking creep - which is a shame because up close this man is gorgeous. His blue eyes are like two pools of sapphire, glistening in the sunlight. A pair of sunglasses hang on the neck of his shirt, pulling it down just enough to reveal hair on his chest. Strands of blond hair peek out from underneath his hat, which he’s sporting backwards – a telltale sign of being a total douche.

I should’ve known.

However, the man seems to immediately regret what he said, his growing wide, cheeks as red as a traffic light.

“Oh shit! I-I didn’t mean it like that,” he exclaims, tripping over every word. “I meant…” He gestures toward my rear passenger window, which I know has a decal featuring the words “I’d rather be playing with my wiener” along with the silhouette of a dachshund. “I have one too,” he clarifies, pointing to his bumper, a sticker with a similar picture and the words “I trip over my wiener.”

My cheeks warm as realization settles over me. “Oh!” I exclaim, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. “I am so sorry! I thought you were-”

“An asshole?” he finishes for me, to which I breath out a “Yeah” with a small giggle. He chuckles awkwardly, reaching to grab the bill of his hat and pulling it off his head. While running his fingers through his tussled hair, he flips his hat around then puts it back on. “Yeah… Sorry. I didn’t exactly think that one through. Not my finest conversation starter.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, offering him a genuine smile. “Don’t worry about it, uh-” I suddenly remember that I don’t know his name.

“Benny,” he replies, offering his hand to me.

“Benny,” I reply, repeating his name aloud once while it plays in my head like a beautiful song. I give him my own name, and as I shake his large hand, my mind immediately drifts to how his touch would feel on other parts of my skin. The thought of his hands exploring every inch of my body sends shivers down my spine. As I reluctantly release his hand, I can’t help but long for a moment when his touch could be more than just a fleeting gesture.

“Do you think maybe I could see your wiener?” Though my voice sounds meet, the sly smile spreading across my face shows that I’m well aware of what I’m doing.

“Right here? Right now?” Benny questions, pretending to be appalled by the notion, clearly playing along.

“Right now,” you demand. “Show me see your wiener.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a smile.

Fuck, the things those two words make me feel.

After reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he whips out his phone and swipes across the screen with his thumb. Within seconds, he’s showing me a picture of a beautiful black and brown dog, sporting short legs and a long torso.

“This is Beanie.”

My eyes flick up to him. “Beanie the Weenie?”

“Sir Beanie the Weenie of House Teenie, actually,” he clarifies, trying to sound so matter-of-fact.

“Oh,” I gasp, trying to sound impressed. “I had no idea you know the star of Game of Bones.”

Benny lets out a boisterous laugh, sparkles in his eyes, seeming both shocked and thrilled by my parody. “Fuck! Yes! That’s exactly what I was going for!”

Smiling, I look back at his screen, watching as he swipes to another picture, then another.

“You know, I don’t show just anyone my wiener,” Benny admits after several moments of silence. “I hope he doesn’t disappoint.”

I snort. “Not at all. He’s very cute.”

Chuckling, he tucks his phone back into his pocket, then gestures to me. “I showed you mine, so why don’t you show me yours?”

“It’s only fair,” I reply, reaching for my phone. Happily, I show him a photo of my brown long-haired dachshund. “Her name is Leia”

“Like from Star Wars?” he questions, a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Well, actually…” I pull my phone back and quickly find a photo from last Halloween. I show him the picture of my dog in a Leia costume, fake buns and all, which causes Benny to bust out in a fit of laughter.

“Okay. You win! Your wiener is way cooler than mine.”

I shrug nonchalantly. “A princess does outrank a knight, so…”

He chuckles, and a giggle escapes my lips.

“Maybe we can set up a playdate?” I suggest.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Benny replies. “Maybe we can set one up for the dogs too?” He looks up from my screen to meet my gaze, the corner of his lips rising into a small smile. Fuck, his eyes are mesmerizing. They’re the kind that make you feel like you’re the only person in the room, as if he’s seeing into my soul and understanding me without even uttering a word. I could stare into them for hours, lost in their piercing blue beauty.

I smile, feeling my cheeks warm once again. “I’d like that.”

We exchange numbers and part with the promise that we’ll be in touch soon. While walking toward my car door, I feel a sense of anticipation for what the future might hold. Grabbing a hold of the handle, I pause, then look over at Benny as he climbs into his seat. Looking at him makes me feel calm, as if all my worries melt away in his presence. I almost don’t want to let him leave.

“Hey,” I call, grabbing his attention before he can close the door of his Jeep. “Make sure you play with your wiener for me when you get home.” Casting him a wink, I climb into my seat, satisfied by the pink that’s rising in his cheeks as he casts a shy smile.

I’m pretty sure a stranger just stole my heart in a Publix parking lot. But what can I say? Benny has one incredible-looking wiener, and that makes me weak.

[firjii]

Something I think DA2 captured really well but I don't often see people talking about is the humidity in the lighting.

Coastal places can be muggy, sticky, and even smelly. Some people even have breathing problems in that kind of situation because severe humidity fucks up their oxygen saturation level too much. For me, this actually kind of comes through in the game, largely because of the light.

When I see the outdoor sunlight basically anywhere in the game (because most of it does take place in coastal areas), I get the impression of oppressive humidity, boiling hot summers, and winters that are either brutally chilling or far too warm. (It wouldn't surprise me at all if this was *a* reason why moods and behavior can be so extreme there)

In Kirkwall, I can smell gross things in general because humidity can accentuate gross smells more so than others (garbage, sewage, sweat, whatever). On the Bitter Coast, I can picture really overwhelming saltiness from the ocean and possibly mildew.

In daylight, the sky is usually soupy beige, which is consistent with strong morning fog in humid places and/or passing storms. (On the other hand, it also resembles the color of the sky in an area actively experiencing ongoing forest fires, which is...not an incorrect metaphor for the direction the plot takes)

Sundermount is possibly a little better, but I still get that disconcerting vibe of dazed mugginess.

Of course, you can also argue that this was just a pervasive detail in Varric's idea for the narrative and was greatly exaggerated because a) he was emphasizing just how much misery and chaos went down, or b) he really fucking hates coastal weather.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Day 5: “That’s Gonna Scar” (Legend & Everyone)

Ao3 link

Cw for blood and injury, and electrocution

——————————-

Legend swipes a hand across his forehead with a groan. The heroes have been stuck in Wild’s Hyrule for a week now, and it just keeps getting worse. First there was the Guardian attack, then the debacle with the Yiga, and now they’re stuck wandering around Faron Region, baking beneath the sun’s rays. He glares up at it past the towering palms.

“Hylia, is it always this muggy here?”

Wild casts a glance over his shoulder, grinning. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Wonderful.”

“Ah, don’t let it get you down, Vet,” Warriors says, slapping him on the back. “Besides, not wearing pants has to count for something.”

Legend levels him with an unimpressed look. “Well, when you die of heat stroke in that glorious scarf of yours, don’t come crying to me.”

The smirk the Captain sends his way is absolutely infuriating. “At least I’ll look good when I die. And they’ll put something poetic on my grave. For you they’d just say something like ‘here lies the Hero of Legend sans underpants.’”

A mosquito floats by and Legend swats viciously at it. He just happens to hit Warriors’ arm too. The Captain flinches away, his expression one of disbelieving woundedness.

Legend grins. “Oops.”

“I hate to break up the party,” Twilight says, drily, “but what in Hylia’s name is that?”

He points ahead of them to where a collection of ruins stands, strange forms hopping about atop them. Wild stops short and Legend nearly collides with his back.

“Hey!”

“Shh!” The Champion slams his hand over Legend’s mouth, and Legend stumbles back, spluttering angrily. “Those are lizalfos. The ones in this area shoot shock arrows and trust me, you don’t wanna get hit with those.”

He slips his Sheikah Slate out from his belt and peers through it. “Looks like these are gold lizalfos too. They’re the toughest kind.”

“So, we go around them,” Warriors says, but Wild is already grinning.

“Or—” He takes out his bow and flicks the string a few times. “—we get some target practice. You wanted to practice shooting three arrows at once, right Vet?”

Legend lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah…”

“Well, this is the perfect time to do it!” And with that Wild is off scrambling up the hill.

Twilight watches him go, then exchanges a tired glance with Time. “Guess we’re doing target practice.”

Despite his exasperation with the Champion’s slightly…wild ways, once they start picking off the lizalfos, Legend can tell that the Rancher is having fun. He’s got the hero’s spirit too, after all, the Vet thinks with a wry smile, and he doesn't know of a Link who can deny a bit of light target practice.

Reaching into his quiver, Legend selects three arrows, notches them in his bow the way he’s seen Wild do, and with a steadying breath, releases them. They hit their target and the lizalfos falls with hardly a sound.

“You did it!” Wild whispers, excitedly, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Yeah, that was awesome!” Wind agrees and Legend can’t help but grin.

Between the nine of them, they make quick work of the monsters. And when the last one falls without a single shock arrow coming their way, they rise from their crouched positions. Legend secures his bow onto his back once more and stretches. A bead of sweat dribbles down his cheek, reminding him of the oppressive heat.

As if he’d forgotten.

“Are there any more monster camps ahead, Champion?” Time asks. He seems the most unbothered by the warmth of any of them. Still, Legend would be surprised if he wasn’t as eager to escape it as he is. He must be baking in that armor.

“Yeah,” he agrees, crossing his arms, “can we get a move on before we melt?”

Wild opens his mouth to answer but then Hyrule speaks up.

“Hey, is that a cave over there?”

He points and they all follow the direction of his finger. Sure enough there’s a small outcropping in the mountain, with a very damaged pathway leading into it. An ethereal light shines through the opening.

“Oh.” Wild huffs a laugh, and when Legend turns to him, he has a strange, almost pained expression on his face. But then he blinks, and it’s gone. “Yeah, that's the Spring of Courage. It’s pretty cool. Wanna go check it out?”

His question is met with a chorus of excited “yeah’s” and “of course’s,” and so Legend finds himself trumping down the hill after the rest of them. He doesn’t mind exploring the spring. In fact, he’s as interested in it as the other heroes. But the heat is only growing worse and heading into a place that’s likely to actively trap it doesn’t sound appealing.

He sighs as they start along the walkway, boots squishing in the many large puddles along their path. It’s even warmer down here, and more humid to boot. Breathing through the thickness is impossibly difficult. Still, the ruins are interesting enough—he can’t help wondering how long they’ve been here—and he does his best to focus on taking everything in.

They’ve just made it to the entrance to the spring when Twilight stops short. He looks behind them, forehead creased in a frown.

“Did anyone else hear that?”

Before anyone can reply, an arrow splits the sky in a wide arc, heading right toward the spot where Legend stands. He leaps back, trips over a stray piece of rubble, and hits the ground with a splash.

“Leg!” Wild yells. “You’re sitting in—”

But it’s already too late. The arrow lands not a foot away, right smack in the puddle he has fallen into. Legend has a split second to realize what’s about to happen. Then, his vision bleeds blinding white.

He jerks, back arching, breath stuttering as the current takes over his body. It sears his skin, burns through his veins and he wants to scream, wants to run. But he’s as paralyzed as he was that day on a tiny boat in the middle of the ocean, struggling against the massive storm, yet helpless to escape it.

Don’t let me wake up to another dream. Don’t let me—

Urgent voices surround him, forms move in his line of sight, but everything is muffled and blurred by the buzzing and the pain. And then another arrow buries itself in his shoulder and he hears nothing, knows nothing except agony. Finally, a scream breaks free, tearing his throat on its way out.

Darkness tinges his vision, and he fights desperately against it. He won’t let go again; he won’t fall asleep.

But the pain is lessening now, as the charge of the arrow runs out. And it must’ve only gone on for a moment, yet he feels like it lasted an eternity. He sags against the cold, hard stone, as his body continues to twitch and spasm.

“R-roolie,” he gasps, prying his eyes open to try and find his friend. If he can find him, he’ll be safe; if he can find him the pain will stop.

“I’m right here, Vet,” says a familiar voice, strained and drenched in worry. Legend has the insane urge to push himself up, show him that he’s fine, because Roolie should never have to worry about him.

All strength has fled him, however, and he can no longer hold back the darkness.

“Hold on, please, just hold on,” comes Roolie’s voice once more. “I’m gonna heal you, okay? You’re gonna be alright.”

It’s the last thing he hears before everything fades away.

[aeksion-aekse]

WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON & THE FAWN 

Chapter 5:  Unknown Thoughts & Unanswered Prayers

tag list 🏷️ : @eiralune @mini-kunoichi @noeverse @flippydippydoo @thought--bubble

word count: 2563 words

WARNING: SEXUAL ASSAULT (PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS IS TRIGGERING)

Brinaera’s POV

The bright and cloudless sky was a stark contrast to the storm filled bleakness that filled it mere days ago. Instead of chilled to the bone from wind and rain, it was sweltering and humid, muggy beyond belief. I sat in my bedchambers, on the balcony as I looked out to the view of Blackwater Bay, painting away to pass the time. A slight breeze blew through the air, blowing some of my hair around as I sat on a stool, wearing a vibrant aquamarine colored silk dress, the straps draping down my arms, a shell necklace around my neck.

Painting was often something I did if I were ever bored or something occupied my mind. A few days ago, whilst I was having a moment to myself in the waters of Blackwater Bay during the storm, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched, like a predator of sorts was stalking me like prey. I just shook my head and continued to paint away, trying to forget the feeling of being watched.

I looked at the painting and let out a pleased hum. It was of me, my body bare and nude floating in the crystal blue waters of the sea, the orange light of the setting sun illuminating me. My body adorned by gold jewelry and pearls as fruits and flowers surrounded my body in the water. My hair floating in the water but forming my face perfectly, my doe like hazel eyes staring at whoever looks at the painting, tears rolling down my face. It was

Beautiful, I was beautiful.

As I finished painting and was applying a layer of varnish to it, I could hear rather loud knocking upon my bedchamber door. I get up from my stool and walk across the room, going to open the door. I then opened it to see it was none other than Aegon, seeing that he was already quite inebriated and stumbling a bit, drunken giggles escaping his lips.

 Aegon and I, we have had quite the interesting dynamic, as he would constantly flirt with me, tease me, be somewhat handsy with me …. You name it and he did it. I let out a slight huff and raised a questioning brow at him, wondering what it was that he wanted from me.

“Aegon, already midday and you’re as drunk as a Braavosi sealord. Why am I not surprised? What is it you need?”

Aegon just stumbles into my bedchambers, hastily slamming the door shut as he lets out a string of drunken giggles, leering at me per usual.

“I just wanted to see how my favorite bastard was doing. Might I say you are looking absolutely ethereal today, that color looks striking on that beautiful figure of yours.”

I let out a silent huff and speak in a sarcastic yet ever so slightly amused tone of voice.  

“Aegon Targaryen, the charming man you are …. Did you stumble your way to my bedchambers just to shamelessly flatter me like you always do?”

Aegon just stumbled over to me and came closer towards me, but something about his body language was making me rather uncomfortable. It was like a feeling of dread was consuming my gut and spreading like a wildfire. My gut feeling was only proven correct when Aegon kept walking towards me, causing me to walk backwards until the back of my legs hit my bed, causing me to fall onto it. Aegon just grins like a wolf in sight of a helpless sheep, hovering over me and pinning me to the mattress of my bed.

“Ohhhh sweet fawn, look at you! I didn’t know you were so eager to have me on top of you like this. Look at you …. Such a thing of beauty, bastard or not, I want a taste of this sweet little fawn.”

By the gods, my gut was right, I hated this, I wanted him off of me. He smelled of wine, sweat and desperation and it wasn’t a combination I wanted to familiarize myself with so intimately. I tried to push him off of me, but he was so inebriated and all of his body weight was on top of me, it was like trying to shove a dragon off a rock.

“Get off of me, Aegon. Get off, get off, get off …. Gods, get off of me …. ” 

Aegon wasn’t even paying attention, as if he was completely ignoring my pleas. He just kept kissing my face, the salty taste of tears down my face against his wine stained lips, the way his hands roamed and frenzied over my body like a starved man, it made my skin crawl. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t fight back, I felt paralyzed and as if I was going to be sick. The feeling of him on me was enough to feel a whirlwind of emotions: anger, confusion, betrayal, ill, taken advantage of.

“Shhhhh, shhhhh, don’t worry, pretty thing, it’s alright …. Let me take care of you. I can’t imagine how pent up you must be.”

As he spoke in such a hushed tone, his words slurred together and it made my skin crawl with an ick that was indescribable, his hand sliding up my thigh underneath my dress. After moments of crying and silent pleading in my mind to the Seven above to intervene, I snapped. I finally gathered enough courage to shove Aegon off of me, my foot against his stomach as I finally stood up from my bed, looking up at him with a wide eyed, angry and tearful expression.

“By the Gods, what is wrong with you? Why did you shove me?”

I didn’t respond with words, but with a sharp slap across his face, one that snapped his head to the side and brought him to a knee. He went wide eyed and started to slightly shake, bringing his hand up to his stinging cheek, looking up at me with glossy eyes, welling up with tears of his own. I just looked down at him, my own eyes glossy and filled with tears as I readjusted my dress, tears staining my cheeks as my fists clenched the now tainted silk fabric of my dress.

“You …. You struck me. I didn’t …. ”

“What in the name of the fucking Seven did you think you were doing? Stumbling like a drunken, obnoxious cunt and pinning me down as if you were owed any type of intimacy from me. I have experienced all sorts of teasing and flirtation and leering from you for years now Aegon, but NEVER did I …. ”

I cut myself off as I hear my own voice crack, turning away from Aegon for a moment, before turning back to face him as tears of hurt and betrayal run down my face.  

“Never did I think you would take such advantage of my kindness as to go so far as to try and have your way with me by force. I have lost trust and even some faith in you.”

“No, no please …. Please don’t say such things. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, let me make it right. I’ll beg! Is that what you want? I’ll beg and plead, I do not care, just don’t hate me, please …. Please, Brinaera, I can’t have you hate me. You’re the only one to care.”

“Yet you squander it all just for a moment of forced, drunken intimacy? You had one single friend in me and you pissed it all away, Aegon. Was it worth it? I hope you savor the feeling of my skin on your finger tips, because I will spend what feels like eons scrubbing the feeling of your touch off of mine.”

Aegon staggered as he got up to his feet as he walked towards me and grabbed me by my arms, tears rolling down his face. His breath still reeked of wine, and he was a mess.

“Stop it, stop saying those things. I need you, please. Please stop. I have no one else, I am all alone.”

I felt my skin crawl with disgust once more upon feeling Aegon’s touch, flinching as I let out a choked sob and scream, shoving him off of me. 

“Get off of me! I WANT YOU OUT! LEAVE! YOU HAVE MADE ME FEEL FILTHY WITH JUST A SINGLE TOUCH! And to think I EVER trusted you, even a shred!”

As soon as Aegon left my bedchambers, I was left alone to grapple with the feeling of filth and impurity upon my skin. I go over to the balcony and grab the painting I did earlier, bring it into my room and place it upon the table beside my bed, propping it up. I felt numb, filthy and impure …. Quite the opposite from the painting of myself I had painted.

Third Person POV

Hours had passed and night had fallen over the Red Keep, yet Brinaera had not moved from her spot, still just staring at the painting of herself she had finished hours ago, feeling as if a piece of her had been ripped and her being sullied. The usually warm and lit bedchambers of the Baratheon girl were now dark and only lit up by the pale moonlight shining in from the windows and balcony.

A soft knock could be heard and waited for a response, yet received none. The door to Brinaera’s bedchambers opened and in walked Helaena, hoping that she would find her friend inside.

“Brinaera? You weren’t at dinner, and I was worried. I wanted to see you.”

Brinaera said nothing, her numb expression still staring blankly at the painting in front of her. Helaena just stared sympathetically before lighting a few candles to bring some semblance of light into the room. She then walked around to the other side of the bed to where Brinaera was, sitting next to her on the mattress. A few moments of silence passed between the two of them before Helaena spoke up, her tone reassuring yet the slightest bit awkward.

“You are not alone. I know that …. It must hurt. The feeling of betrayal, someone you have known the majority of your life and yet, they take advantage of your kindness. They mistake it for weakness. You aren’t weak. You have strength in you, I know it.”

Sweet Helaena, so empathetic and prophetic. She always did care for Brinaera like a sister, and was friends with her, regardless of her bastard status. Brinaera just looked up at Helaena, their gazes locking and stared at Helaena’s shoulder tentatively as if to get permission, since she knew Helaena was adverse to physical contact. Helaena just nodded her head, and Brinaera just let out an exhale, resting her head on the shoulder of her prophetic friend.

“I never thought he would lay a hand on me, Helaena.”

“I know, fawn, I know. He’s not the brother of mine you’ve wanted.”

Brinaera just looked up at Helaena confused and as they locked gazes, it clicked in Brinaera’s head that Helaena knew. She always knew. Of course she did.

“Your secret is safe with me. Perhaps you are the one thing in Aemond’s life that sways him for the better.”

Before Brinaera could ask Helaena what she had meant by that, Helaena had gotten up from the bed and smiled before leaving the bedchambers of the Baratheon girl, leaving her to wonder in curiosity at her friend's words. Brinaera just let out a sigh and decided to slip out of her dress, switching it out for a pale off white colored sleeping gown, undoing her hair and removing the decorative beads in the dark brunette locks, letting her hair run free and loose.

 Brinaera made her way towards the bed, the netting material of the canopy slightly blowing from the breeze as she got under the blankets. She made herself comfortable underneath the covers, closing her eyes as she wanted to forget the events of earlier today, the lingering feeling of Aegon’s drunken touch on her skin made her shudder in disgust. Within moments, Brinaera was fast asleep, the events of earlier feeling like a bad dream now.

Whilst she peacefully slept, the door to her bedchambers cracked open as the figure’s eye scanned over the entire room, making sure nothing was out of place. They saw Brinaera fast asleep with her hair sprawled out in every direction yet still some in her face, her eyes were closed and her cheeks were rosy. Her lips were slightly parted as quiet and soft snores emitted from her, her chest rising and deflating with each slow breath. The faint orange hue from the lit candles illuminated each feature of Brinaera’s sleeping figure, making her look as if she was an angel.

The figure closed the door of Brinaera’s bedchambers quietly, as to make sure not to wake her, walking towards the bed and sitting on the edge, staring at her sleeping figure with a ghost of a small smile lingering on his lips. His closest and dearest friend, the one who had been by his side through so much, especially when he had lost his eye …. Poor Prince Aemond. 

He just continued to stare at Brinaera whilst she was asleep, watching over her silently as if he were a guard dog or guardian angel, wondering how in the Seven Hells he had been so blessed to have someone such as her in his life. His single pale eye stared down at his dear friend and thought back on each and every memory, both good and bad, his hand gently reaching to stroke her hair in a slow and soothing manner while she slept. His breath almost hitched as she slightly stirred, moving closer towards him in her slumber, but let out a silent exhale of relief as she remained asleep.

The last time they had such an intimate moment like this was before Aemond’s thirteenth name day, before his first experience with Madam Sylvi from the Streets of Silk. A “gift” bestowed upon him by his dear older brother Aegon, and of course after it all, Aemond wouldn’t let anyone near him that night …. No one except Brinaera. She was the only one he let in, the only one to even touch him and comfort him. If Aemond could, he would keep her locked away in his bedchambers, protected at all costs and hidden from the dangers of the world. He would keep Brinaera bottled up and safe from all the evils and perils of outside if it meant she’d be free from harm.

He continued to slowly stroke her hair as he stared down at her, shushing her in a gentle manner every time she twitched or made a noise in her sleep, hushing her with murmurs.

“Shhhh, shhh shhh shhh …. No one will harm you, opal. No one. Sleep.”

She was kind, she was gentle and good, she was pure and Aemond would make sure to always protect her. Anyone who dared to even stare at her the wrong way would have a one way trip to the inside of Vhagar’s mouth. Bastard or not, she was his everything, whether he would say it aloud or not. She was his.

[impish-crow]

[TRANSLATION] HIBIKI BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION SS(Short Story) 🎉

Pushing open the studio door, the lukewarm heat from outside surged in all at once.

"Wow, it's so hot…"

Even my own voice escaping my mouth is irritating. Despite the fact that the sun has long set, the daytime heat lingers on, and not only that, it's carrying a dampness that hangs heavily in the thin evening darkness of summer.

(Truly unpleasant.)

I let out a sigh, not knowing how many times I've sighed since waking up today.

"Kouno, quit complaining all the time. It's annoying." "It can't be helped, it's hot." "The air is so muggy…"

"Shion." Toya, who was walking ahead, stopped and turned back with a concerned look.

"You really seem to be struggling. Shouldn't you let Sogo carry you?"

"I'm fine. I can manage. It's just to the parking lot, so I can do it somehow…"

Despite Shion's brave response, it's evident on his face that he is nearing their limit.

"I've always hated summer."

Muttering that, I noticed Endo glancing over in this direction for a moment.

But I pretended not to notice.

Intense heat. Right in the middle of August.

(It's hot and exhausting… so hot.) Nothing's going well. If possible, I'd want to pretend I'm dead and just get through this. While thinking that,

(Oh, not again.)

My phone is ringing.

(How many times since morning?)

I know who's calling without even looking at the screen.

Today is the day when once a year, I'm subjected to a one-sided confession of guilt and apologies for not being able to do anything. So, I'm not picking up. Absolutely not. (Mom, I've had enough of that.)

I'm not a kid anymore. I'm living on my own just fine. I'm not hurt anymore, really. (I've been raised well enough. I'm grateful. I don't want or need anything more from you.)

Please, I hope you understand soon. (… Ah, it got disconnected.) That's a relief. Explaining things is tiring anyway and it's hot.

"Hey, Megane.."

Shion raised his face slowly, and Endo continued.

"How about having today's drinking session at your place, after all?"

"…At Shion's place? Not Sogo's?"

Surprised, I asked again, and Toya nodded easily.

"Let's do that. Shion seems unwell since the morning, and it's worrying to leave him alone."

"I'm sorry, but my place is small."

"It's fine. As long as there's enough space for one person to sit, we're good." "Huh, Toya, you're coming too?" "Is there a problem if I'm there?" "There isn't, but you hardly ever come even if you're invited. And today, Shion doesn't seem well either, so there's no need to push yourself to drink on a day like this." "A day like this, huh?" "Kouno. Isn't today your birthday?"

All three of them looked at me simultaneously.

(Huh, no way… What? Is that so?)

They were looking at me with expressions that seemed like it should be obvious. I was surprised.

"Could it be that you forget it?" "Yeah, well… but so what?" "What do you mean? We're going to drink, it's your birthday." "I'm having a bit of trouble understanding what you're saying…" "Get it together, you fool. Oh, Sogo-saan!"

Sogo came running back from the parking lot.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting." "Whoa, you're all drenched in sweat!" "During summer, just lifting and lowering the drums is a workout itself. The inside of the car is ridiculously hot too."

"I'm really sorry, I had Sogo-san carry the keyboard too."

"Don't worry about it. I left the door wide open and turned on the AC, so let's go. It would be nice if our mood improves a bit while we're driving." "That's the thing, though. Is it okay to have it at Megane's place today?" "I don't mind, but is it fine for all of us to barge in? It's still an option to do it at my place as planned. I even aired out the guest room's futon the other day." "Home is where anyone most comfortable. Also, while we're at it, we can inspect Shion's room and buy anything necessary for his summer life. It's your first summer living alone, right?" "Yes… um, sorry." "Do you properly turn on the AC when you sleep?" "I set it on a timer." "Huh? You're gonna die, you idiot!" "Shut up! If I leave it on, I'll freeze to death!"

I'm living on my own just fine. I'm not hurt anymore. I still don't like summer, though. But…

(Since when did things become like this?)

At the very least, this year's summer is not the same as before.

"Hey, Hibiki, why are you smiling?" "Sorry. I just felt like, it's kind of fun."

Finding myself able to think like that was a bit refreshing. I couldn't help but smile.

[liedream]

     “Man, I wish there was a damn way to ignore humidity exists after it rains.” He only hates it because he has to wear a suit which gets uncomfortable in the heat.

[coconutcordiale]

steady pt three (i keep all my affection in a paper cup)

pt one | pt two | pt three | masterlist | prequel

pairing- rooster x female bartender!reader (no y/n)

synopsis-

You want to tell her you know how she feels, it’s truly unfair for someone to look this good with that mustache. There’s a bead of sweat rolling down his neck to his collarbone and you want nothing more than to follow it with your tongue. Alice looks like she agrees with you.

Completely unaware of his own effect, Bradley just swipes his card.

warnings- 18+ minors DNI, unprotected sex oops, light daddy kink/bradley bradshaw is a soft daddy dom that just wants to take care of his girl this is the hill i'll die on, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), lil bit of praise kink (can i write smut without someone -especially rooster- saying good girl, prob not), breeding kink if you squint but like...don't it's like half a line & i'm scared of kids so it's not really breeding kink idk, no kink negotiation here so not a good example of what you should do irl, brief mention of past infidelity (no current cheating)

length- 5.6k ish

an- i can't believe this is over this is literally the most difficult thing i've ever written, also for real publix sandwiches are the goat i wouldn't share mine with bradley. I’m sorry the end was so cheesy I hate myself lol ok ily all bye

this chapter title is also from only for a moment by lola marsh lmao i basically wrote 15k based on one song that's less than 3 minutes long

You slam the door a little harder than necessary when you get to the rental car.

“Did you get the closure you needed?” Bradley asks tentatively, probably wary of the chaos you know is simmering under your skin.

“Closure from another person is a myth,” you answer firmly. “Only you can give yourself closure.”

“So, no, in other words.”

You appreciate that he’s at least trying to keep the amusement out of his voice as you repeat his cheesy quotes back to him, but it's short-lived because everything feels too small, too suffocating in the muggy Austin air.

You almost don't tell Bradley, but a part of you recognizes you need to get the words out. That someone else needs know about you and Jake so it doesn't subsist only in your eyes, so it doesn't blind you as it disrupts your field of vision, bright spots of an incoming migraine.

“He said he’s in love with me.”

His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and you raise an eyebrow.

After a beat he relaxes, tone frustratingly even. “Bold, considering he’s still married, right?”

“Bold,” you scoff. “That’s one way to put it. I didn’t bother to ask. No ring, but we all know how you pilots are about rings.”

“Why?”

You shrug. Because it doesn’t matter.

“I want to ask you something, but you have to promise not to get mad at me,” he continues, gaze fixed on the road.

Even though you know you’re unlikely to get mad at him, you grumble anyways. “No promises.”

“I’m not trying to sound judgmental. You obviously loved him. But can I ask, why you stayed so long? Wasn’t it excruciating?”

Loved. Past tense. You're surprised as you realize how true that feels, that Jake has maybe, finally, become someone you loved and not someone your heart still beats for.

“I’ve never been in a serious relationship before,” you admit, softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “At a certain point, maybe I started to think there was something wrong with me, a reason I wasn’t worth the effort of a real relationship. Like maybe what I had with Jake was better than I would ever get from someone else.”

You hear a pained noise from him, but barrel on, knowing if you don’t get the words out right now, they may live inside you forever.

“It wears on you after awhile. My guy friends are always acting sarcastic about it, wow must be so horrible to be pretty, so shitty that everyone wants to sleep with you. People say it enough, men confirm it with their actions, and eventually, you start to feel like that’s all you’re worth.

You shudder; you’ve never admitted that out loud before.

"I know what it looks like, but it was more than sex. I’d just never felt that way about anyone before.”

Bradley pulls into the parking lot of your hotel, but you’re staring straight ahead, admission having frozen you in place.

“I don’t know how to make you believe you’re worth more than that. Seresin was practically falling apart, and he hasn’t even seen you in almost a year, for fuck’s sake. Those guys that missed out on knowing you, they’re morons.”

He pauses and takes a deep breath, looks over at you and you feel his dark eyes burning into the side of your face.

“Cali, I—if you think he’s being serious, if you want to be with him, I know it’s complicated, but I have your back.”

Any ice that was thawing around you suddenly frosts again.

“You think I should try to work things out,” you say slowly. “With Jake.”

He flinches. “That’s what you’re taking from—fuck, never mind. I didn’t say that. I just want you to know I’m here for you, whatever you decide.”

Your stomach is sinking and you’re not entirely sure why.

“Thank you,” you manage to murmur, squeezing his forearm affectionately before getting out of the car, worried he’ll see the tears forming in your eyes.

It stays sunk as you get back to your hotel room, as you get ready for bed silently, as you bury yourself under the covers and turn your back to him.

He feels miles away in the other bed, somehow farther away than he does with a flight of stairs separating you at home in Florida.

Sure, a mini vacation to a wedding (even if it is to Texas of all places) is a little intense for friends, but that’s yours and Bradley’s thing if you’re being honest. You guys have spent the last six months being a little intense and over-committed. Being the only things to pull each other out of the dark places you longed to hide in.

You agreed to come, as a friend. It’s not like you guys pretended to be dating, it’s not like he didn’t introduce you to everyone as his friend from Florida.

You’re not sure when you started hoping for more, when you started thinking there was something promising constructing itself in the space between your apartments.

+

Rooster immediately knows it was a mistake to visit you at work. But you’re working the early shift and things have been so off since you guys got back from Texas. It’s like you’ve retreated into your shell, like you’ve put back on every layer he spent months peeling away.

You smile when you see him, but there’s something hollow in it, something not all there.

He’s pretty sure he overstepped asking you about Jake, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up again, how to apologize without making it worse.  

He couldn’t help it; he saw how Jake looked at you. Understands how Jake feels, knows all too well the magnetic pull of you, the involuntary twitch of fingers to touch you. But the way you stole glances after you stopped panicking at his presence…well he’s fairly certain you’ve never looked at him the way you tried to hide you were looking at Jake.

He felt all the air empty from the room the moment you two were aware of each other's presence.

Bradley doesn’t know how to compete with a love like that.

Despite all that he can’t stay away from you, can’t spend another night in his apartment wondering what you’re thinking.

Unfortunately, that means he’s in a touristy tiki bar, politely letting a girl chat him up while you busy yourself making sweet cocktails with overcomplicated garnishes just out of his line of sight.

She’s pretty. And nice. She’s drinking a Jungle Bird which he knows you don’t detest making, so he doesn’t feel bad when she orders another to stick around and talk to him. She laughs at his jokes and doesn’t tell him he’s an idiot for not liking The Office. As far as he can tell (given that he met her about five minutes ago) there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her.

Except for the fact that she’s not you, of course.

She excuses herself to the bathroom and you make your way over to his side of the bar, wordlessly putting a fresh beer in front of him.

“You should ask her out,” you suggest. “She’s gorgeous.”

Bradley stalls, blinks twice. His tongue is suddenly sticking to the roof of his mouth. “You think so?”

You roll your eyes. Usually, he secretly loves how much you roll your eyes, the fire that’s always lit behind them. Loves the bratty disposition you manage to express with one little look. He’s always liked how expressive your features are, how he can read your mood before you even say a word.

Right now though, it just makes him uneasy.

“Everyone thinks so, look at her.”

“No—that’s not what I—” he stutters. “I meant, you really think I should ask her out?”

“Yeah, she obviously likes you. It’s not like she’s going to say no.”

Bradley hates the way his heart sinks at your suggestion, but nods anyways, choosing not to correct your assumption that he’s stammering with nervousness over this girl he just met. He desperately wants to change the subject, to make sure he’ll be able to see you outside of the shell you put on for work.

“I have your suitcase at home if you want to get it after work. Sorry, I forgot it was still in the Bronco when I left the other morning.”

When he left for work after carrying your sleeping form up to his apartment, not wanting to risk waking you by searching for the keys to your place, because you looked too peaceful for him to wake up after the flight back.

He forced himself to sleep on the couch, despite how pretty you looked in his bed, how badly he wanted to crawl in with you, tell his students he got stuck in Texas, and keep you in bed with him forever.

He walks home when you tell him you'll come by after Beth takes over, after Jungle Bird slides him her number on a napkin, hoping it’ll clear his head. Sits on the beach, watches the sky darken over the water. Wonders if he should play it cool and wait to text her. Wonders if he even wants to text her at all.

He knows he’s ready to date again after Lauren, has been for a while now, so eventually, he does text, because pining after you isn’t going to get him anywhere.

He thinks he can be your friend, if that's all he's going to get.

He’s just barely gotten through his front door when you knock, sweaty and red-faced.

“Just got back from a run,” you tell him, clearly having seen the question perched on his lips. You’re still breathing a little hard and it’s sending his blood in the opposite direction of where he needs it to be going.

The sweat dripping down into the valley of your breasts is giving him decidedly not friendly thoughts.

“You hate running,” he says instead, brows furrowed.

You shrug. “Did you make plans with the girl from the bar?”

He rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward.

“Yeah,” he answers finally. “We’re going out this weekend.”

“That’s great,” you say flatly, immediately turning to leave, picking up your forgotten suitcase a little too aggressively, like it’s done something to offend you.

“Hey, wait, hold on.” Bradley reaches out for your arm, tugging gently and forcing you to stop in your tracks. “Are we in a fight right now? Is this about the wedding?”

“No,” you answer petulantly. You won’t meet his eyes, instead staring down at where his fingers encircle your wrist.

“No, we’re not in a fight or no, this isn’t about the wedding?”

“This isn’t about the wedding,” you reply through clenched teeth. “Not entirely, at least.”

He can’t help but let pride swell through him at your words, knowing a few months ago you would’ve lied about being fine until you were blue in the face.

It still feels like he’s taking a shot in the dark, a tiny flicker of hope igniting in his chest. “You told me to ask her out.”

You cringe, face twisting in pain like you just sucked on a lemon. “Only because you were pushing me to go back to Jake! I thought that was what you wanted. I thought—”

You’re breathing hard, but he’s pretty sure your chest is heaving with emotion, not from your run. Your mouth is open to continue when he says your name.

Not Cali. It sounds hard and serious as it passes his lips. You wince and he immediately feels bad.  

“Stop,” he continues firmly, determined not to lose his nerve at the hurt crossing your features, willing himself not to get worked up and loud. “Don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I was doing. I know we went to the wedding as friends, but it’s stupid to deny there’s been something building between us for a while now.”

Your expression softens and Bradley knows instantly that you feel it too.

“I just didn’t want you to shut the door on Jake out of some obligation to me. I want you to choose me, for me. Not because I’m not him.”

He sees the moment it clicks for you, the second you start seeing how the wedding must’ve looked through his eyes.

“I’ll never go back to Jake,” you say quietly. “For lots of reasons that have nothing to do with you.”

Something inside him unfurls, anxiety sitting in his stomach loosening, but he’s not done, can’t be done, until his intentions are crystal clear.

“What do you want? Do you even know? Because I know what I want.” He grabs your arms, turning your body to face him fully. Hooks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him as he tries to gather the courage to say this next part. “And I can’t settle for anything less. If you want casual, I can’t give you that.”

“I don’t want you to go out with her.” It’s as good as an admission from you, he knows that.

Dark eyes warm as the beginning of a smile stretches across his face. His chest is lightening, warmth bubbling within. “How come?”

“You’re smart enough to do the math,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. But there’s a bright, happy tinge edging at the corners of your mouth.

He’s full-on grinning now, reaching to pull you into him by the waist. He tucks his face into your hair, so you won’t see the giddy expression on his face. “Tell me anyways.”

“Want you all to myself,” you mumble, lips ghosting over his skin to make him shudder.

You might have more to say, but Bradley used all his patience flying today and his hand tilts your chin to him, lips covering yours before you can make another sound.

You make a tiny mewl in surprise against his mouth as he grips you, tongue sliding past your lips and his blood immediately rushes south.

Making a face when Bradley manages to pull himself away from your lips, you look down at your sweaty sports bra. “I need to shower.”

“Shower here,” he suggests. “I’ll make us dinner. You can spend the night, maybe? And I won’t sleep on the couch this time? I promise I’ll behave.”

Bradley sees his hopeful eyes mirrored back at him when he finally takes a chance to look at your face.

Things are so shakily composed between the two of you, that he’s somewhat afraid if he lets you go back downstairs to your apartment you’ll spiral and come up with a hundred reasons not to give you guys a shot.

Maybe he’s being insecure, sue him.

You seem to understand where he’s coming from, the tenuous connection hanging delicately in the air between the two of you. Nodding, your fingers play with the hem of his shirt fitfully before you rush to his shower, like if you waited for another second you might not be able to peel yourself off him.

He inflates with pride at that too.

Bradley overestimated his abilities, probably, when he promised to behave. He didn’t think about how hard it would be not to think about you naked in his shower while he seeks out ingredients to throw together for dinner.

Didn’t think about how good you’d smell, fragrant with his body wash as you wrap your arms around him from behind.

Bradley’s movements are shaky, and jerky when he turns around to kiss you. He clears his throat, and only just barely keeps himself from running his hands underneath the baggy top that hangs off your shoulders. “Is that my shirt?”

You freeze. “I…yes. Is that okay? I didn’t have anything with me, but I can run downstairs…”

You say something under your breath that he can’t quite make out. Your face is completely unreadable and Bradley’s body flashes hot and cold every other second.

“No, don’t, it, uh, looks good on you,” he says finally when he’s pretty sure he’s not going to rip it in the process of pulling it over your head.

Bradley’s taking deep breaths, using grounding techniques. He breathes in through his nose, and out through his mouth. He knows you’re not trying to tease him. You’re not doing anything, not really.

This is Florida, everyone is scantily clad more often than they’re not.

If he’s going to behave, he’s going to have to tap into that self-control he beat himself over the head with every time he saw you in a bikini before today.

It’s just so much worse now that he’s allowed to touch you.

“It’s hard, with you looking like that in my shirt. I want to fuck you stupid,” he admits.

Your mouth drops open in surprise.

“But I think we should take things slow. I don’t want to mess this up by jumping in before we’re ready.”

His cock twitches when he notices the disappointment you’re not trying very hard to hide.

“Okay,” you pout. “You’re probably right.”

You turn to open the fridge, leaning to grab a water and his shirt rides up a little higher on your already bare legs.

Bradley groans, head falling back to stare at the ceiling. “Baby, you’re killing me.”

+

You can’t believe how much you hated Florida beaches when you first moved. The Keys are beautiful, with endless white sand and clear water.

You convince Bradley to stop by Publix on the way back, with promises of pasta for dinner. You really just want a sub to take to work tomorrow, but you’re not going to tell him that.

The poor cashier practically swallows her tongue when she sees Bradley, shirt open over his bare chest and covered in sand, sunglasses sliding down his nose that’s pink from the sun. He makes sure to look at her name tag and smiles genuinely at her when he asks, Alice, how’s your day going?

You’re going to pass out.

You want to tell her you know how she feels, it’s truly unfair for someone to look this good with that mustache. There’s a bead of sweat rolling down his neck to his collarbone and you want nothing more than to follow it with your tongue. Alice looks like she agrees with you.

Completely unaware of his own effect, Bradley just swipes his card.

It’d be infuriating if it wasn’t so adorable.

This time you’re counting all the ways he’s not Jake, but it’s a good thing. Jake would’ve preened, leaned into smirk, just so he could see the blush rise on the poor girl’s cheeks.

It’s not that that’s bad, you know you do the same sometimes. Smirking at guys you know are giving you a once-over while you make their drinks, sparkle in your eyes because you don’t always hate the attention.

But it’s oddly endearing with Bradley, how he doesn’t seem to know the effect he has on people. Like he doesn’t fly multi-million-dollar planes for a living, like he couldn’t use that to get any girl he wanted in his bed.

He’s just being mean when you guys get to the car, flinging his unbuttoned shirt off and into the back of the Bronco and muttering something about tan lines.

Your mouth is watering.

When you get back to your complex, you snag his forgotten shirt and form a plan.

“Caliiiiiii,” Bradley sings as he bursts into your apartment. It’s a good thing you never listened to Beth about locking your front door because shirtless Bradley Bradshaw is a sight to behold. “Showered so you wouldn’t complain about—”

You hear him stop dead in his tracks at the entrance to your kitchen. When you look over your shoulder at him those plush lips are parted, eyes roaming over the back of you. You’re clad in one of his marginally less offensive button-ups (at least there aren’t any birds on it), thrown hastily over your bikini.

“How gentlemanly of you to shower for dinner with little ol’ me,” you giggle. “But I have to admit I haven’t had time for more than rinsing the sand off.”

He ignores you completely, tone accusing like you hadn’t spoken at all. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

You consider denying it but can’t fully hold back the smirk forming. “Well, you seemed to enjoy it when I wore your shirt last time.”

Bradley just nods dumbly.

“Anyways, don’t get too excited, this is one of three dishes I can actually make, but I thought we’d…” You trail off because he’s suddenly right behind you, crowding you so you feel the heat radiating from him as he brackets you with his arms.

“Nope,” he says tersely. “Dinner can wait. Turn off the stove.”

He turns you around so he can kiss you, slow and deliberate. His tongue slides between your lips assertively, hands tapping on your thighs as a sign for you to hop backward and up on the counter. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

“Wait, what?” You ask, but he’s already on his knees.

You should’ve known then and there he was going to be nothing but trouble.

The first time Bradley makes you come, you’re still in the kitchen. He’s kneeling with his face buried in your pussy, skimpy bathing suit bottoms long flung behind him, lips curled around your clit insistently even as your thighs clutch his head in a way that must be uncomfortable. After all his talk of wanting to wait and do things right, it’s almost funny. Would be, if your mind wasn’t currently busy whiting out.

The second time, he drags you to the living room before you’ve had any time to recover and pulls your back against his chest in front of the couch. The tall mirror in the corner of the living room displays the absolute debauchery unfolding on the floor in the middle of your apartment.

“Keep your legs open, baby. You can do that, right? Be good for me?”

You’re nodding before you even know what you’re doing, head jerking up and down like a bobblehead.

“Fuck, look at you,” he croons in between the nips he’s determinedly pressing on your neck. Barely even a command, you still look up, watching your reflection as his lips trace across the top of your shoulder, mustache leaving red marks in its wake. One hand is busy tugging the strings of your bathing suit top loose so he can toss it out of his way, while the other drifts to tease your inner thighs.

Bronze eyes meet yours in the mirror and he grins, like the cat that got the canary. “Gorgeous, darlin’.” And then he pushes two fingers into you without warning, the stretch making you keen as your head falls back on his shoulder. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve thought about you like this.”

“Ohmygo—Bradley.” You turn your head to kiss him, but it ends up being little more than your lips slotting together and you moaning straight into his mouth as he fucks his fingers in relentlessly, your hands gripping his arms like they can’t decide if they want to pull him in closer or push him away, oversensitive as you are from his mouth.

You sink into him, into his hands, his grip. Let it erase the gravity that keeps you tethered to the ground, let yourself flutter high above the clouds.

You don’t even realize how close you are until he curls his fingers inside you to graze that soft spot, thumbing at your clit. His other hand palms your tit and tweaks your nipple at the same time his teeth close on your neck and you’re done for, letting it crash into you, cunt clenching around his fingers and back arching away from his chest.

It takes you a few seconds to come down, eyes closed as you blindly turn your head in search of Bradley’s mouth. He kisses you sweetly, but briefly and you make a noise of discontent when he pulls away. You open your eyes to glower at him but when you do, you see a filthy gleam in his eyes that warms you straight to your core like you didn’t just come twice in two different rooms of your house.

His fingers are suddenly pressing at your lips, and you watch his eyes glaze over as you take them in and suck, licking your release from his fingers. You’re suddenly very, very aware of how hard he is behind you, thighs clenching at the realization that he’s straining against his shorts, grinding against your ass because he’s so turned on from getting you off.

God, he’s so perfect it’s not even fair.

His digits in your mouth are giving you your own wicked ideas, about returning the favor as you wriggle your way around to face him. It’s a good thing his other arm immediately goes to support you because you’re pretty sure your legs are made of jelly.

He seems to read your mind, or maybe just the way your cheeks hollow around his fingers as you look down to the bulge in his pants, lips already forming wicked promises as he pulls his hand away from you. “Next time, baby. Need to be inside you.”

The high-pitched whimper that leaves you at that would be embarrassing if you could currently remember that you have downstairs neighbors. You can’t, though, so who cares.

“Want you to ride me,” he grunts. “Have to see how gorgeous my girl looks bouncing in my lap. Can you do that for me?”

To be honest, you’re not sure you can. It’s a 50/50 chance your legs will give out the moment Bradley stops holding you up, but you want to, want to so badly.

You nod anyways, figuring odds are Bradley will catch you if you melt into the floor, and he swings around so he can lay flat on the rug. His shirt slips off your shoulders, getting trapped around your elbows as you lean forward to support yourself on his chest. You’re about to fling it off when he makes a strangled noise, hands going to bring the material back up.

“Baby, please.” There’s a little whine in Bradley’s voice that turns you inside out. “Keep it on.”

That sweetness, that little crack in his dominance is way hotter than it has any right to be.

You make quick work of his shorts, biting your lip as you pull him out, his tip red and leaking precum.

“Christ, Bradley, this how you got your callsign?” You manage to mumble as he pulls you up to balance your hand on his chest again.

The bastard winks. “I know you can take it. Been so good for me, why stop now?”

Using your free hand to guide you, you sink down slowly, not bothering to hold in the moans at the stretch of him.

Stars are bursting behind your eyes that are squeezed tight against the intensity of it, your slick walls are oversensitive and shaking already. Bradley’s hands are clenched on your hips, trying not to move before you’re ready.

You roll your hips, starting to find your rhythm, and he groans, head thumping back against the floor.

When he looks back up at you his eyes are almost completely black. “Look so fucking beautiful bouncing on my cock, darlin'.”

He reaches up to grab your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples just to make you squirm even more, before trailing his fingers down to your clit as he starts shifting up to meet the grind of your hips and it’s so much, too much, sending sparks straight through you.

You shudder. “Bradley—da—I can’t.”

There’s something knowing in his gaze, at your pace stuttering, at your half-formed words trying to claw their way out of your throat. He slows as you do, ever so slightly pulling his finger from your clit. “Need a break, baby?”

You bite your lip, refusing to meet his molten gaze, giving only a tiny shake of your head, trying to find your rhythm again.

When he smirks, you can feel it permeating the air around you. “That’s what I thought. One more, I know you can give me one more.”

He plants his feet flat on the floor behind you, giving himself the power and leverage to fuck you in earnest from below. You’re trembling, you know sounds are leaving your mouth, but you’ve no idea if they’re words at this point.

You’re not fluttering above the clouds anymore, you’re flying, speeding through, fast and hard and riotous.

Bradley’s voice is low and gravelly, but he’s looking up at you with reverence. “It’s okay, baby, you can let go. I’ve got you, gonna take care of my girl.”

“Daddy,” you whine, any sense of coherency, shame, or worry having left you two orgasms ago.

The sound that rips from Bradley’s chest at that is rough and guttural, hands going to your hips in a bruising hold. “That’s right, gonna come for daddy like a good girl, aren’t you?”

You’re nodding, babbling, keening yesdaddyyesfuckbradley— You dig your nails into his chest as it hits you. Electricity ripples under your skin, through your veins, dominoes cascading down and hitting every nerve ending in your body. It’s right on the edge of pain, body worn out and spent from tensing and releasing.

“Fuck, baby, so gorgeous when you come on my cock, gonna fuck my girl so full,” he grunts, big hands bouncing you like a ragdoll in his lap.

Even through the fog, his words hit you hard. “Fuck—please, daddy.”

His thrusts get shallower, wilder, before his back arches from the floor, mouth spilling incoherent praise, holding you down onto him as he spills inside of you.

You slump down onto him, the only sound in the room yours and Bradley’s heavy breathing.

You’re falling apart, body trembling and shaking, and you’re still on the floor. You’ve no idea how you’ll survive when Bradley finally takes you to a bed.

“Jesus,” he whispers. “And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any hotter.”

You flush pink immediately, wincing as you move to get off him, wetness sliding down your thighs. He scoops you up almost immediately, carrying you to the shower and mumbling under his breath about making sure to keep daddy’s cum inside of you.

“Oh my god, Bradley,” you whine. “I can’t go again."

The pasta is completely unsalvageable by the time you get out of the shower. He’s lucky you’re willing to share your precious sandwich with him.  

When you see your downstairs neighbor the next day, she immediately reddens and turns on her heel to get away from you.

+

You’re back at the beach when Penny gets a call from you.

“Burning off some energy,” you tell her when she asks what you’re up to. “I’ve had a lot of that lately.”

“Should’ve just let me introduce you to Rooster from the beginning.”

“Who says this has anything to do with Rooster?” You ask, even though both of you know you’re lying through your teeth.

“Nothing wrong with being happy, honey.” You can hear her smiling through the phone.

“I might actually be happy?” You joke. “Is that what this is?”

“You guys are in the honeymoon phase. Every song on the radio is about you, neither of you can do anything wrong—”

“Oh, he does plenty wrong, believe me—”

Penny isn’t bothering to hide her laugh anymore, but her tone is still soft and caring. “It’s sweet. Rooster’s a good guy. He’s been through a lot.”

“He is. I’m kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop,” you admit. “Wish I could just enjoy it.”

“It’s hard. You don’t give your heart away easily,” Penny responds like you’re easy to read, easy to understand.

Maybe you are.

“You wouldn’t be taking this chance unless he was worth it,” she adds when you don’t answer, too busy thinking about how maybe that mask you’ve always worn isn’t as opaque as you thought it was.

Maybe that’s fine. Maybe you really are as strong as you pretended to be with that mask.

That’s the thing about masks. Sometimes you realize they’re more a part of you than you ever thought. When you thought you were faking it the whole time.

“He’s definitely worth it.”

Rooster raises an eyebrow at you, having come back to the tree you’ve taken residence under.

“Talking about my other boyfriend,” you tease, trying not to get distracted by the swimsuit that seems to be riding lower than it was before he ventured into the water.

“Hand the phone to Rooster, I want to talk to him.”

You giggle, sticking it out in his direction. “Penny wants to talk to you.”

“If you think my loyalty here lies with you, you're sorely mistaken,” Penny says, warning dancing all over her tone.

“You don’t have to be worried, Pen.” Bradley looks at you, eyes warm, fingers drifting up your legs. “If anyone’s gonna get their heart broken here, it’s me.”

d a y 3 6 7

You don’t notice the date, but a year since you moved to Florida, almost to the day, you realize you’re in love with Bradley Bradshaw.

As it turns out, loving Bradley is like flying high above the clouds.

[petrichor-han]

hi! can i request “I hate you,” “You say this, yet you have hearts in your eyes.” with niki please? <33

hello! thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy~ i didn’t make this one too fluffy, apologies for that, but the ending is cute. 

PAIRING | ni-ki x gn!reader 

CAST | nishimura riki, lee heeseung, jake sim, jay park

WC | 925

GENRE | fluff, enemies to lovers, non-idol!au, school!au 

WARNINGS | comparing test scores, academic pressure, teasing, slight bullying (if a guy treats you like this, don’t let it slide. this is a fanfic, don’t base your standards off of this.) 

MASTERLIST | EVENT MASTERLIST

You couldn’t remember a time where you were so pissed off you wanted to physically punch something. You’d always considered yourself someone who was quite rational, who never lashed out or got violent, verbally or physically. That is, until you met him, that piece of shit who challenged every moral you had. 

“I told you I’d win,” he taunted, waving his paper in front of your face, watching your narrowed eyes follow his every movement. “It was so easy too,” he laughed, looking behind his shoulder quickly to make sure his friends were all watching. They were, of course, laughing along with him and making fun of your stony expression. “I mean, I got one question wrong, and that was because Heeseung was fucking around with me.” 

“Guilty as charged!” Heeseung called out with a smirk, waving his hand to make sure you saw him. 

Riki sat down in the chair in front of you backwards so that he faced you and placed his elbows on the desk, pouting at you mockingly. “How did the perfect student get such a bad score?” 

You grit your teeth before responding. “It’s not a bad score, you moron. I only missed one more than you did, and it’s not like I was trying to get a perfect score anyways.” 

You regretted your strained tone as Riki’s friends started making noises behind the two of you, further humiliating you. “You really pissed them off this time Riki!” Jake yelled out, and you swore you literally saw red as Riki chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“Fuck you. I’m leaving.” You stood up suddenly, pushing your chair back with such a force that it collided noisily with the desk behind you, waking up the student who was sleeping there with a snort. You snatched up your paper with a nearly-perfect score and shoved it into your backpack, feeling regrettable tears of frustration well up in your eyes. You hated it. You didn’t want to show them your weakness. 

Riki seemed a little shocked by your outburst and stopped laughing along with his friends, who were still being obnoxious in the corner, not caring about their own lousy scores. “Hey, come on,” he said, eyebrows raised in surprise, “it’s just a joke.” 

You ignored him and pushed past him, sick of him making fun of you. You hadn’t really given a shit about him in the past, knowing how immature he could be. Hell, you’d even thought he was sort of cute sometimes, especially when he would stop the bullying and be sweet to you, giving you extra snacks that he’d bought for his annoying friends, or passing you a pencil when you’d forgotten to bring one. At this point, you didn’t even care that class didn’t end for another twenty minutes, you just wanted out. The hallways were still empty, and you could hear the noisy clacking of your stiff shoes against the waxed school floors, flying past the classrooms and feeling suffocated. Finally, you pushed open the heavy doors at the entrance, gasping noisily as you inhaled the muggy early summer air. It was cloudy, even though it had been bright and sunny that morning, and it gave the entire atmosphere a gray, damp look. The surrounding grass and forest were a blue-green color, showing just how humid it was, and you could feel your uniform starting to stick to your skin. Sweat was already beading on your forehead and the back of your neck, and you wiped it away just as you had done with your tears as you sprinted down the hallway. 

“God damn it, wait!” a strangled, angry voice called. You whipped your head around, and spotted Riki running towards you, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. “Please don’t run again,” he wheezed, “I really, really can’t chase after you.” 

“What the hell do you want?” you asked, the hurt evident in your voice. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him again, but your expression unconsciously softened as you eyed his seemingly regretful look. “Are you?” 

“Look,” he sighed, “I know I went too far. And my friends especially pushed you way too hard. They’re assholes, and I’m sorry for that too.” 

“Okay,” you muttered, “thanks, I guess.” 

Riki sucked in a deep breath before handing you the wrinkled paper he’d been clutching tightly. “Here. This was my real score. The other paper was Jay’s, and he cheated on every question.” You took the paper gingerly and looked at the score. He’d gotten ten less points than you had. “You win, but that’s not really the point. I’m sorry for teasing you all the time. The guys encourage it and I go along with it because… well, because…” He trailed off here, cheeks flushed. From the confession or from the sticky environment, you were unsure. 

“Because…?” 

“I hate you,” he chuckled, running a hand through his gelled hair, which was beginning to come undone. “You know why.” 

Your upper lip curved into a smirk; you did know why. “You say this, yet you have hearts in your eyes,” you teased, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. 

Riki flushed even darker, but kept his gaze locked with yours. “Maybe I do,” he mumbled, moving in closer. 

You chuckled before stepping away from him and sticking your tongue out. “That’s a shame. Maybe you should do something about it then.” You started walking away with a smile, leaving Riki behind you, spluttering flusteredly. 

© petrichor-han 2022, all rights reserved

[theringers]

best friends - mick schumacher

summary: you spend every summer at mick’s beach house but this summer is feeling a little bit different already…

request: hii could i request like ur first time with mick where they were best friends and one night things just escalated?

warnings: smut, nsfw, 18+, oral sex, fingering, yea

You ducked your head underwater, starting another lap in the pool to clear your mind. The air exiting your lungs is almost making you feel lightheaded, but this is what you needed.

You were so lucky to be spending one more summer at Corinna’s beach house. It was a tradition from your childhood to spend the summers here. Just you, your mom and your sister would jet off up the coast on the last day of school every summer, meeting your mom’s best friend.

She had two kids, a daughter your older sister’s age and a son your age. They would always be sitting on the porch waving as you pulled in the driveway. The air was warm and muggy, the car windows often fogging up because your mom hated turning the air on in the car. You got your stubbornness from her but atleast you preferred air.

Mick was your first real best friend. There were photos of you two in diapers that your moms annoyingly shared with everyone at your graduation. He was with you when you both learned how to ride bikes one summer and when you lost your first tooth. He was jealous that he hadn’t lost a tooth yet, but forgave you a few minutes later.

You were there for Mick when he had his first breakup. He was 12 and had been going out with this girl from down the street. They went on a date to the boardwalk and he won her a stuffed animal. At the end of it, she took the stuffed animal and told her that she wasn’t allowed to date yet. He was crushed and you were a shoulder to cry on.

The summers started as very organized beach days as it was difficult to coordinate with little kids. Each day, you woke up at the same time, left for the beach at the same time, returned from the beach at the same time, and ate dinner at the same time.

As teenagers, you were all bratty and annoying. You preferred to spend time alone rather than with your moms, thinking you were too cool for them. Your and Mick’s sisters had gotten older and were going to beach parties with the other kids in town while the two of you were stuck at home.

You waited for the days when you would be allowed to go to those beach parties, but for the time being, you enjoyed your company.

In recent days, things had looked a bit different. Your sisters were grown and moved out. They chose to spend their summers doing other things like traveling Europe or following bands on tour through Australia and New Zealand. They would pop in and out of the house throughout the summer. Most of the time it was a surprise and only for a short period of time.

You and Mick were creeping up on the end of college and needed to figure out where life was taking you next.

The beach house was the perfect place to put off reality for a bit, and that’s exactly what the two of you did every year.

Each summer was more of a blessing than the last. You never knew if it would be your last time spending weeks at the beach doing nothing but relaxing and enjoying yourself. You were getting older and pursuing new things, like masters degrees or jobs. For all you knew, Mick could decide to study in Australia next summer. Something he always wanted to do but has been putting off. Avoiding the inevitable — the summers at the beach coming to an end.

You cherished each summer like it was your last. That’s what has made every summer better than the one before.

Your sisters were in town this weekend ans had been particularly loud tonight getting ready for their party. You had already decided on staying in tonight and reading, despite your sister’s nagging. The crowd at the party wasn’t something you felt like dealing with, especially a crowd your sisters age.

You made your sister happy by having a few drinks with her and Mick’s sister before she left. Anything to get her off of your back.

You were laying in bed, engrossed in your book, only just realizing that your sisters had left and the noise had subsided. The silence was uncomfortable now that you had recognized it, so you needed to do something else.

You dropped the book on your chest. It was too difficult to concentrate on words after a few drinks. Your focus moved to the window that was now directly in front of you and gave you an idea.

-

Your head turned side to side as your arms lapped at the water. You stood up, getting ready to turn and swim the opposite direction. There was a pair of feet at your eye level and you looked up.

“Mick?” you asked. The moonlight on his half-naked body. He wore your favorite swimsuit of his and carried a beer bottle in his hand. Probably not intentional though, as it was his favorite suit as well.

He smiled at you and bent down to dip his feet in the water. He splashed his feet around, swinging his legs back and forth while taking another big chug of his beer.

“I got up to get a cup of water and saw you out here.” He shrugged his shoulders and lifted his beer bottle. “Guess I ended up with another beer, though.”

“You going to join me then?” You ran your hands over your wet face. Your eyes were stinging from the sleeplessness and the chlorine.

He slid off the edge of the pool and into the water, muscles tensing when the water touched his abdomen. Colder than he expected.

“I’m used to it,” you said. 

“How long have you been out here?”

“Only like 30 minutes.”

“You’re not tired yet?” You shook your head side to side. “Even after swimming laps this whole time? And all the wine you had? I’m shocked.”

“I’ve been coming out here late at night for years, is this the first time you’ve noticed? I’m a pro at it by now.”

“I remember seeing you a few times when I was younger.” It was hard to make out his facial expression. All of the lights were out, both the house and the pool. The moon was the only source of light and it reflected perfectly off his blonde hair.

“Why didn’t you ever come out?” You waded around the pool trying to focus on something else.

“I didn’t want you to think I was creepy for watching you.” His face wore an expression that said I apologize for my younger self.

You let out a single huff of laughter. “That would be the last thing on my mind if you came to join me.”

“What would be the first?” He lifted his eyebrow in curiosity. He started to wade around as well. The majority of the pool was shallow enough for you both to comfortably stand.

“I would have been so happy to have your company.” You gave him a soft grin.

“Funny you say that now.” He laughed and looked away. “I have a confession to make.”

You stared at him waiting for him to continue speaking.

“I had a huge crush on you then. Like when I was twelve.”

You were surprised, but not shocked. Something like this was always on your mind as a teenager too. “For how long?”

“W-what do you mean for how long?” His arms started to move faster as he dragged them along the water.

“Like, when did you stop having a crush on me?”

“I’m not sure,”

“Like, middle school? High school?”

“Well, yeah. I had a crush on you in middle school. Once we got to high school it was different.”

“What do you mean by different?”

“The summer after our first year high school. When you got out of the car, I didn’t recognize you for a second. I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you. No matter what you did. You were on my mind constantly. It was different after that.”

“Something kind of similar happened to me. You were always my closest friend but I started wondering what you were doing too much. And then I would just think about how much more fun I would be having if you were with me.”

His arms stopped swaying and he turned towards you. You continued. “I would look up to your bedroom praying you would come down and swim with me so I didn’t have to embarrass myself and ask you.”

“I wanted you to come ask me so I could avoid an embarrassing situation too.” He shook his head. If only he could tell his twelve year old self what he knew now…

“So what made you come down here tonight then?” You asked him, your arms swaying in the water now.

“I’d risk embarrassment just for a chance to hang out with you.” He smiled. “And beer made me do it.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” You grab his hands in yours and swung your arms around with his. “I’m glad you did.”

He pulled you closer to him. “Couldn’t stand it any longer, thinking about you being down here by yourself.” You could smell the alcohol on his breath as he inched his face closer to yours.

“Mick, I-” His lips interrupted you. You fell into the kiss, grazing your tongue against his lower lip. His hands found the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him while your lips moved in sync. You roamed your hands up and down his toned sides.

You pulled your lips just slightly off of his, close enough that you could still feel his warm breath. “Someone could see…”

“I don’t care right now.” He closed the gap between your lips. You could feel the pounding of his heart against your own chest. His fingers ran through your hair and rested on your ass. He gripped you, hoisting you onto his waist.

“Is this okay?” You nodded, wrapping your legs around him. He sat down on a ledge in the pool with you in his lap, his hands still firmly placed on your ass.

You leaned into his chest and rocked your hips on his lap. Your fingers tangled in his hair while he had the opportunity to leave kisses on your perfect tits right in front of his face.

“You’re driving me insane,” he said against your skin. “Do you know how many nights I went to bed as a teenager thinking about this?” You laughed and nodded. Typical teenage boy behavior. You omit the fact that you, too, thought the same.

You sat back from him, running your eyes up and down his body. “Did I ever tell you how much I love this suit?” You asked him, your fingers finding the space between the waistband of it and his bare skin.

“Once or twice.” Your fingers continued to slowly move across his abdomen. “We should go inside, shouldn’t we.”

You nodded and hopped off of him, walking towards the pool steps. The fantasy you had as a teenager of him taking you in this pool late at night would have to wait.

Your towel wrapped bodies ran quickly through the dimmed house. The contrast of the cool air conditioning inside to the outside temperatures was sobering, but your body felt on fire.

You walked toward the same hallway you did night after night, but opted the opposite end of the hallway tonight.

You sat down on his bed and watched as he shut the door behind him, trying his best not to make any noise. Your moms’ rooms were on the other side of the house, thankfully, but you couldn’t be too careful.

You let your body fall back onto the bed, but immediately propped yourself up on your elbows.

He walked over to the bed, his eyes taking all of you in. “You’re incredible,” he said. Leaning in, his arms wrapped around your back and pulled your upper body closer to him. He kissed your abdomen, your back arching in response.

He delicately left soft kisses up your stomach until arriving at your bikini top. He reached his hand to untie both of the strings holding it together.

Your top fell to the floor in slow motion and his eyes ate you up. He couldn’t stop staring. “Sorry,” he apologized, snapping back to reality. “I really never thought I’d be in this position right now.” He reverted to a giddy teenager.

You laughed at him and pulled his face in for a kiss. His lips moved from yours to your neck, and down to your collarbone. Each kiss was slow and savored. He was met with your cleavage and kissed each breast before taking one of your nipples between his teeth, softly.

The weight began to shift as you laid back on the bed with him comfortably on top of you. His hands massaged your tits while his mouth focused on your nipples.

He let his kisses trail back down your abdomen before reaching your bathing suit bottoms. He pulled the top of the fabric down, exposing a small amount of skin. He left a kiss before focusing on the ties that held your bikini bottom together.

You looked down and admired him. His muscular arms flexed when he ran his hands all over your body. His chest was tight and toned. You looked at him differently now, seeing him between your legs ready to make you feel good.

He pulled on the ties that held your suit together one by one and it fell in slow motion, just as the top did. You could have sworn that your whole world was moving in slow motion with Mick around. He made you feel a way you’ve never felt before. With him.

His fingers made slow motions around your clit, his other hand gripping your inner thigh.

He licked a finger and slowly inserted it inside of you. “Oh, Mick,” you moaned at the contact. You propped yourself up so you could watch him.

“Does this feel okay?” He asked, looking up at you.

“More than okay. Keep going.” Your head fell back in response to a second finger entering you.

They worked in and out of you, squeezing your eyes shut in pleasure. The muscles in your abdomen clenched when his fingers brushed against your g-spot.

A third finger was added and you moaned loudly in response. You quickly realized what you did and covered your mouth with your hand. You looked down at Mick with concerned eyes but his were still focused on your pussy and your pleasure. He let out a small giggle, but still continued to finger you.

Seeing Mick’s serious side was a whole different ballgame for you. You were used to him constantly joking around and laughing. He always had a witty comment to say or something to make fun of you for. But now, he was serious and focused on you. It was different but it turned you on like no other. You felt so comfortable in his arms.

You sat up and kissed him on the lips, prompting him to remove his fingers. He stood up from the bed, watching your movements. You reached for the tie of his trunks and undid it painfully slow like he did with you.

The shorts were inched down until they fell to the floor. He kicked them to the side and you got on your knees in front of him, his hard cock only inches away. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.

You looked up at him. “I want to.” He let out a deep breath.

You wrapped your hands around his dick, pumping up and down a few times before taking the tip in your mouth. You slowly eased the rest of him in and began bobbing your head, your hands taking what couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Shit,” he said, under his breath. He took your hair and gathered it in his hands, making sure it was all out of your face. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked, earning deep groans of pleasure from him.

“If you keep this up,” he said, “I won’t last much longer.” You stopped and sat back on the bed, making sure he would last long enough to get what you wanted.

You laid back down and he crawled on top of you, kissing your lips passionately. “I’m not kidding when I saw I’ve dreamt about this since I was a kid,” he laughed.

“Me too,” you said. He ran his fingers between your folds before guiding himself inside of you. You let out a quiet gasp at the contact. You had forgotten what it felt like to have someone you loved inside of you. His thrusts were slow and steady in the beginning, wanting to make sure you could take all of him.

He picked up his pace after a while, finding a good rhythm. “You feel so good,” you said. You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes before pulling him in for a desperate kiss.

His body rocked against yours and he kept eye contact. “You are so beautiful,” he said. He never took his eyes off of you.

Your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm and the heat between you two continued to rise.

Your hand found his bicep and dug your nails into his arm as you let out loud breaths. He continued to roll his hips to meet yours and it felt euphoric.

His hand reached up and pushed your hair out of your eyes. He smiled at you when he could finally see your entire face.

The eye contact made your walls clench hard around him. The realization that you were in bed with your best friend hit you just as your orgasm did.

His eyes squeezed shut and he grunted, thrusting one last time into you.

Rolling on to his back, he looked over to you with an intense gaze.

He smiled. He didn’t have to say anything because you knew how he was feeling. It was exactly how you were feeling. You were in love.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi!! I was wondering if maybe you could write a Wade x plus size reader? Maybe she’s an ex pro thief and gets put with him for a mission or smth?? I got no idea man just have fun with it aye

Thank you for the request!!!!! Sorry for the wait!

I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be dirty or not so I sectioned that part off in case it's not what you're looking for :)

You are my first ever request! So, thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope you enjoy it <3

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Thieving, being exceptionally attractive while doing it. Wade on his best behaviour, Smut is sectioned off.

You haven't accepted a mission in 4 years.

You got out of the business and left those “friends” and “friend circles” behind you after you scored your dream internship. 4 years and you were running your own team and writing a semi successful blog. It was a quiet life, and you enjoyed it immensely. You liked your team members, and you felt they found you a fair and caring boss. Your cat Mr. Sparkles was a healthy weight and had finally committed to using the litter box.

You don't know why you answered when he called you, you don’t know why you agreed to such fuckery. But here you were pulling out a familiar black box out of the bottom of your cluttered closet. You picked it up and placed it on your bed. The dark colour contrasted with your bright and colourful décor. Something you found oddly reflective, once you moved on from that part of your life nothing was dark. Everything in your apartment was covered by color and patterns that made you happy.

You opened the box. You and Mr. Sparkles looked at the contents like there was a wild octopus about to come flying out of it.

“It was the right thing to do.” You said out loud. “And it's going to pay well.”

Pulling the tight outfit over your curves felt better than you thought it would. You figured that it would cause you panic or anxiety. Instead you felt a wave of confidence looking yourself over in the mirror that hung on the back of your bedroom door. Normally you were covered in bright flowy clothes, that's what you liked. Your whole life was built upon being invisible since you were little. Now that you were in charge every day was a celebration in its own way. However this made you feel sexy, the outfit was sleek and left nothing to the imagination. Pulling your long hair into a tight french braid you were ready to get out there and do some thieving.

You kissed Mr. Sparkles and gave your aloe vera plant a light touch on your way out the window. It was a hot summer night and the air was muggy. These were your favorite kinds of nights to sit out on the fire escape, have some drinks, read books, and watch the city. It was lonely, but enjoyable nonetheless.

You got up to the roof and plotted your course to the impossible house. You misstepped a couple of times before falling into your usual rhythm. You contemplated whether you were doing this because the small piece of art should be with the family it belongs too. Or if you were doing this because you had some kind of Ocean’s 11 complex that kept you hungry for such challenges. It was an impossible place to break into, the floor of the old house containing the art work was covered with laser security. A piece of knowledge that should make your stomach flip, but only makes your heart feel funny.

You got yourself into position on the roof of the low building that was across the street, you took a few minutes to survey and eventually came to the conclusion that conditions were perfect. You made your way to the 3rd floor balcony. You knew of the owner’s, an awfully cruel man and his lover. They were asleep on the 5th floor of the house. Well, city mansion? Whatever, the point is it didn't feel like a home, it felt like something a royal family would keep when they came to visit. Lots of expensive art and velvet curtains. Massive gold and crystal chandeliers hung from mirrored ceilings framed with fancy crown molding. You did your research in the few hours you had after the job request had come in, there was a - *insert super fancy techno security laser system name here.* And it was said to be unbeatable. No gymnast or other cat-like thief had been able to tango with it. You had been challenged by its precursors but had got out of the game by the time this puppy had made it out on the market.

You picked the lock on the double doors, and slid past the heavy curtains and disabled the basic alarm system for the floor. Surveying the area you saw the lasers slowly dancing like it was a Pink Floyd tribute at the local planetarium. (something you attend regularly) You took a deep breath and got ready to disco your way across the floor to the small framed painting of a sun set. You put a headphone in and set the song *put on a song you would rob a bank to*. You began the journey. People often felt that your size and shape made you incompetent or ungraceful. You learned early on in life not to listen to stupid people say stupid things. You were the best, perhaps because you weren't afraid to look stupid or ridiculous. You bended and snapped, ducked and dodged, twirled and flipped. And just like that you reached your target. The second you lifted it off the wall, the lasers stopped. You pulled your knife and twirled around ready for a fight. What you saw was not what you expected, across the room none other than Wade freaking Wilson was looking at you.. Normally you hated being stared at like that, but he was a “friend” you found particularly challenging to leave behind. The whites of his mask were wide. After making a whole bunch of strange gestures with his hands, he held up a finger motioning you to be quiet. He disappeared towards what you figured would be the staircase going up to the next floor. If he gave you a clear shot at an exit you knew he had trouble with him. So you took your out.

You got back up on the rooftop across the street, you grabbed the bag you left there and secured the painting. You pulled out a large black piece of cotton and tossed it around your shoulders like a shall. This made your outfit look less stealth and more passion for leather/night out on the town. Making your way down the fire escape on the side of the building you saw the target house explode.

I guess Wade hasn't changed any.

You picked up the pace feeling anxious to get to Sister Margrets. Making your way through the city unnoticed, you went into the shitty establishment through the alleyway door. You wasted no time moving through the hallway into the servers entrance spitting you out behind the bar. You kept by the entrance which kept you out of sight, you didn't want to see any more friends tonight. Weasel jumped when he turned around and saw you there looming in the shadows, spilling the drink he had just made.

“Fuck” He quickly remade the drink then moved back to where you were standing. He had a large envelope of cash for which you handed him the back pack. You felt slightly relieved.

“Hey I know you moved on, but thanks for this.”

“No problem”

You turned around and went out the way you came in. Opening the door that leads back to the alley way, you notice a very large and slightly singed body blocking your exit.

“Stay for a drink?” His voice caused something in you to stir. Something you were not going to explore.

“Sorry Wade but no can do” You pushed past him and began walking down the street.

“Pretty pleaseeeee” he said with a sing song voice. You tried not to smile. He caught up to you so he was walking beside you. “If your not a big drinker anymore we could go for diner, tacos!, Sushi, chicken nuggets, you always loved a good chicken nugget” You tuned him out as he kept chattering a list of every food he could remember eating together. You had to figure out somewhere to go as you weren't leading him back to your apartment. Going in random directions, he spoke up.

“I know you live on *Insert cute street name here*”

“What the fuck Wilson?”

“Well you disappeared and I wanted to make sure you weren't being unalived. This means if we head back to yours we can do take out and homemade drinks, which in my opinion is much better anyway. I make the best margaritas in the city.”

You started the walk back towards your apartment. Trying desperately to come up with a way to leave him at the front of the building. The thought of him in your very personal, very colourful, even bordering on childish apartment made you unbelievably anxious. Every time you looked over at his slightly charred body you couldn't help a strange feeling welling up inside you. You got to the front door to the building and turned to look up at him. There was a long pause as you struggled for words.

“It's alright. It was a nice walk.” You could hear the layers of sadness underneath his tone. You were going to tell him that it was a nice walk and that maybe one day when things were better for you they could get that drink. Then you were going to threaten him into keeping everything a secret.

“I don't have stuff for margaritas.” The wrong words left your mouth but for a fleeting moment you actually didn't want him to leave.

“Are you sure?” Hey sounded very serious which caught you off guard and confused you a little.

“Yeah, normally I just drink stuff out of a can” You were terrible at mixing drinks, they were always way too sweet and strong and lead to trouble. Wade gave a big laugh. “Are you okay to pick up the stuff if I get changed?”

“You betcha.” He did a twirl, blew you a kiss, then headed down the street.

You dashed up to your apartment and started to hide your more personal stuff. Grabbing an armful of clean laundry off the couch, tossing it into an empty bin in the closet. You were so busy trying to hide your stuffed animals and random fan art, that you didn't notice him standing in the fire escape landing looking at you from the large open window.

“Damn. This was not what I was expecting.” He said, sounding surprised. “This isn't what your old place looked like at all”

“Uh” Your face got hot and you refused to look at him. “I ah don't have people over so um yeah. You can go now.”

“Nonononononono. This is a huge bit of progress from everything being varying shades of grey and uncomfortable.” Wade took the place in as he made his way to your kitchen. Placing the big brown bags on the counter top, and sliding the blender out from against the bright backsplash.

"Uh I'm going to get cleaned up. Help yourself to everything." You ran into the bathroom and freshened up and were very grateful to be out of the leather and into your summer pj's. They were more on the revealing side but you never found Wade the type to care or be creepy.

Coming out you found him very comfortable whirling around the kitchen. It looked like he had made a giant frying pan of pad thai and the blender was full. Turning around to see you he picked you up and sat you on the counter top like you were nothing more than a bottle of the many sauces he currently had out. He handed you one of your favorite rainbow glasses filled with margarita. Your brain was still trying to calm down from him picking you up like that.

"Thanks" you said with an even redder face.

"No problem, hot stuff" he divided the food into two plates, you led him out to sit on the fire escape with you. It was a sacred space, it felt weird to be there with a real live person. After the most delicious plate of food ever, many drinks, and laughs about the good old days things quieted down leaving a thick tension between the two of you. You realized you owed him an apology of sorts.

"Wade, I'm sorry I didn't give you a proper goodbye. I just had a life of running and I couldn't risk anyone fucking me over again."

"It's alright babe. I understand why you did it." His voice was low and sad and it made your heart hurt. You didn't want the night to end.

"Thanks for keeping my place here a secret."

"No problem. Do you think mayyybe now that I know about your situation we could do this again sometime?"

"You have no idea how nice that would be." You really meant it having him around was the most fun you'd had in a very long time. You didn't have to pretend or beat around the bush about anything with Wade. Nothing was too dark or silly or messed up.

"Well I guess this is my cue." He made to stand up but you grabbed his knee without thinking.

"Uh if you want to. You could also stay for a while." He turned his head to the side, bright eyes looking you over. "You could take a shower and I've definitely got a shirt and some boxers I could lend you." His eyes got wider. "They're mine. They're really…. comfy…" you would never understand how he made you so embarrassed.

"Uh, not sure about that… it just…" he motioned to the rest of his body.

"I've seen your face. It won't bother me" you looked up at him with empathetic eyes, part of you hoping that maybe they came across as bedroom eyes. You gave yourself a mental slap.

"If you're uncomfortable, that's okay too." You said, giving him a kind smile. You could tell there was an internal battle. So you gave him a minute.

"Alright that sounds nice. It's a fucking mess under here tho."

You went into your bathroom and found your gentlest scent free soap and a soft towel. Then into your room to find a giant t-shirt and your biggest pair of boxer shorts.

You put it into a nice pile in the bathroom.

"Okay there's some nice soap, it's natural scent free, made of angel's tears or some shit and a clean towel and clothes in there for you."

Wade shifted around you into the bathroom. "Thanks"

You flopped onto your bed and looked up at your glow star collection that littered the ceiling. You heard the water start running and you closed your eyes. Until your herd some very loud and off key Britney Spears. You couldn't help but laugh. Soon enough he was out and flopped onto the bed next to you.

"Man this is the best sleepover ever."

"If this has been your best sleepover with a chick I feel sorry for you. And her." You joked.

"Sorry enough for a pity cuddle." You know what the look he gave you meant. He was testing the waters to see what kind of night this was gonna be. You couldn't help but feel the need to challenge it.

"We could cuddle… or we could do other stuff then cuddle." You'd thought of all the reasons this was a bad idea. But voices weren't loud enough over the sound of your heart beating. He leaned in closer, fingers brushing your cheek.

"You sure that's not a margaritas talking?"

"Very sure." You said eyes locked with his.

"Why now?" It was a good question. One you had to think about.

"I don't think I ever was really myself. Like I was as much of myself as I could be while hurting that much. Now I'm happy and I enjoy things differently"

"Hmmm I noticed that. I think I got to know you more in the past few hours than I had when we were friends. You actually laugh now. At jokes and not just crazy like when things are exploding" he moved his hand to run through your hair and you couldn't hold back a soft moan. It had been so very long since someone had touched you.

You felt his lips press into your forehead. You'd thought about Wade before but he was in a relationship, then she died, and Wade wasn't himself for a long time. You'd figured if you were something he wanted he'd make it clear considering the dude flirted with everyone. You'd always had a secret fear that maybe you went his type. Vanessa was short and very tiny, other than her you were only sure of one other and that was Cable, who was serious, fit, tall, and massive. You were a good height and curvy as all hell. Suddenly you felt self conscious. But then he put his hands on either side of your face tilting your head up to meet his. You opened your eyes and they focused in on his lips. They were so close it caused the air in your lungs to get stuck.

"You're pretty quiet. You sure you wanna try to do other things. We can jump right to cuddling if that's better for right now?"

You looked up to meet his eyes.

"Is that what you want?" You tried your best to have it come out casually.

"Not really."

Your eyes migrated back down to his lips and you shuffled closer. You wanted to kiss him so badly you felt like your body was on fire.

"You can take whatever you want baby"

******************PSA: Dirty stuff below ;)*********************

That's all the permission you needed. You moved in and softly pressed your lips into his, then took things deeper. It didn’t take much for your breathing to become ragged, you were trying desperately to take the kiss further.

Eventually you bit his bottom lip and whimpered, finally he agreed, his hands tightened on your face and your tongues started to battle it out. You wanted to win, so you moved to straddle him. Finally accomplishing some friction between the two of you, you could feel your panties sliding against your wet folds. This only lasted for a few glorious seconds, before he flipped you on to your back quickly moving to pin your arms above your head.

He started moving south leaving a red hot trail of destruction behind him. There was only so much your tank top would allow, Wade seemed very content palming your right breast while biting on the flesh beneath your left collar bone. You on the other hand wanted your goddamn clothes off.

You tried to break his grip and moaned when you realized such a task would only be accomplished by hurting him. He really had you trapped there, a piece of knowledge that only made you want your clothes off more. His grip on your breast tightened and his smirking lips took a long pull on the hardened nub that was poking up benthe the cotton of your top. You couldn't help your back arching. Finally, after paying respects to your other breast, he pulled back to look at you. He squeezed your wrists.

“Stay”

God he was so bossy. Something that divided you internally. A part of you wanted to push it, see how hard he would dig into you, and the other part was desperate to behave and be good. You decided you would be good, for now. He sat up, leaning back on his knees in between your legs. Slowly his fingers brushed across the soft skin of your stomach, then his hands ran up along your torso taking your shirt with them. Feeling his scarred hands trail lightly across you sent shivers through your body. You felt him cup and knead your breasts for a moment before pulling your top over your head. He took a long look at you which made you feel delicious. No one had ever pulled out this side of you before. Kissing down your stomach he stopped at the waistband of your shorts. He took your left leg and used it to flip you over, somehow taking your shorts off at the same time. There you were ass up naked and loving every second of it. His big hands came down to smack your ass, a loud noise of please ran out of your mouth along with most of the air in your lungs. Enjoying the response he did it again then started kneading the flesh.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy.” You felt his hands slide down to grip the tops of your thighs. You arched your back further resting your head on the bed. “Good girl.” The words hit you like a bullet but before you had time to find your footing his hot mouth was all over you wet folds.

His skilled tongue painting some kind of masterpiece, he was touching you everywhere but where you really desperately wanted it. But this seemed to be the way he operated, and you weren't complaining. After feeling like he had been everywhere, he started to circle that tight ball of nerves and you couldn't help but let out a shout. Pleasure was ripping through your body, things were starting to get hot and tight inside you, when all of a sudden those glorious lips closed in and created some heavenly suction. You couldn't stop your hips from bucking, this earned a heavy slap on your right ass cheek.

“Fuck fuck fuckf cukkkk ah” It quickly became too much, your orgasm hit you like a train, whole body tensing up then finally crashing down. Wade kept up the rhythm letting you ride it out. Finally pulling away when it became too much. He snaked his arm up your front to grab the front of your neck pulling you up on to your knees, angling your face so he could kiss you deeply. Putting on a show of how good you tasted. After a long moment of heated kissing, he positioned you so you were laying on your back again. Giving you a few moments to catch your breath.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked softly.

“Yes please.” you answered politely.

“Alright but, it's everywhere. All over me. So doggy style is generally best for this next part. If you wanna do it that way, I'm also just happy making you scream like this too.”

“Wade, we can stop if you need to. But I would much rather you fuck me like this. Or let me choke on you for a while then fuck me like this. On my back where I can kiss you and love you back. Ya feel me?”

He looked at you with searching eyes. You realized what you said probably sounded a bit off. Love you back probably wasn't the right thing to say, but you were operating with limited brain function at this point.

“This normally doesn't end well for me.”

“Hmmm. What part, how do you like to uh finish?” You asked slightly confused. Wade only laughed.

“That's not the problem, I almost got off just from you screaming like that. No, I just want to make sure you actually enjoy it. It's hard to enjoy things when you are looking up at someone who looks like they lost a fight with an industrial paper shredder that happened to be on fire.”

You snorted.

“Wade I never knew you before, but I’ve wanted you since I met you. Okay? There's no spooky feelings here.” Your words seemed enough to convince him. He leaned in for a soft kiss, one that made you want to misbehave. You pulled the shirt up, running your hands across the well defined muscles of his torso, then broke the kiss to pull it up over his head. You didn't give him a chance to be chatty, you resumed the heavy kiss, palming his erection. He moaned into your mouth. Feeling accomplished, you pulled the boxers off letting his heavy cock slap up against his stomach. You couldn't help but break the kiss, looking down you watched your hand slide over his impressive, throbbing length. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but before you could push him back onto the bed, he was already pinning you in place beneath him.

You felt him slide himself through your heat. Finally lining himself up with your entrance, his thumb set a steady pace on your clit as he pushed into you slowly. You were grateful he took his time opening you up. You let out a strangled sound when he bottomed out, you felt so full. He set a slow pace giving you lots of time to adjust, this only made you more desperate and needy. When he finally decided you’d had enough, you felt his hand squeeze the back of your neck as he set into a ruthless pace.

“FUCK” He was too much, his heavy body keeping you in place as your hips rose to meet every single thrust. you wanted to feel him as deeply as you possibly could. His hot mouth was biting into the flesh at the bottom of your neck. The heat inside you started to build and you were near your breaking point.

‘Wade” You breathed in a high, desperate tone.

“Cum for me baby” And just like that you felt it take over, your hips snapped up and your feet cramped up. You could feel your walls clench around him tightly, and you choked when he pushed through them even rougher than before. That thumb on your clit never gave up, keeping you trapped riding out the waves of pleasure. You felt it take him over, letting out a deep growl you felt him fill you. He held himself deep inside you, moving both his hands so his forearms were on either side of you trying to keep his weight from crushing you.

His forehead pressed against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually he moved out of you and he flopped onto his back. You got up and quickly went pee and cleaned yourself up. You grabbed another washcloth and went back to clean him up. You realised that getting up might have been a mistake. Wade was on his side with his eyes screwed shut.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked softly and grabbed the sides of his face and kissed his forehead.

“Better now.” He whispered.

“Sorry for getting up, I should have said something. Can I clean you up?” He gave you a strange look, like he was waiting for you to suddenly disappear. He took the washcloth and wiped himself down, you took it back throwing it into the bathroom. You looked down at him hoping that the voices weren't giving him a hard time. You sat next to him holding his hand, giving him some time.

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

“So about those cuddles?” He asked softly, and you wondered how many times people had hurt him or thrown him out.

You got under the light quilt on your bed motioning for him to do the same. He followed you, laying on his back, you tucked yourself into his side, enjoying his big arms wrapping around you. You gave his neck a light kiss.

“I missed you.” you said softly

“You have no idea how bad I missed being around you.”

“I won't leave again, if you wanted to make this either a regular thing… or a proper thing… if you're into that?” You felt a tight ball of nerves in your stomach.

“I’d really like that.” He kissed your forehead. You thought about all the things you would have to do to make this relationship compatible with your new life. But that was a later you problem, right now you were the best kind of exhausted. You both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you again for the request!!!! <3

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

My Liability, My Deadweight

Fandom: The Chronicles of Riddick

Collection/Series: My Liability, My Deadweight

Pairing: Richard B Riddick x Female Fat + Glasses Wearing Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Rating: T (Swearing, Riddick is Riddick, violence)

Warnings: Swearing, violence towards deadly alien creatures, violence from deadly alien creatures towards the reader

Summary: None of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to be on a holiday resort planet, relaxing by glistening waters and forgetting your troubles. Not traipsing through a deadly jungle on an uncharted planet with a just as deadly companion who seems torn between helping you and hating you.

Notes: So I guess this is going to be similar to Western AU Din in that i’ll probably write some stuff in the same sort of world/vein as this. I’m just interested in the idea of Riddick with a reader who is the opposite of a survivalist, who isn’t fit or strong, who is scared. The idea of Furyans having mates or soulmates that they don’t really get to choose and the idea of Riddick having to come to terms with the idea that the person he wants to protect so bad needs his protection more than most is interesting to me.

This is probably such a niche thing to write, not only because the fandom is tiny, but also because people tend to write Riddick fanfic where the reader or OC is extremely capable, but I wanted to write it. So self-indulgent fic coming up.

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Kratos is a horror show of a planet. It’s the sort of planet you’d never thought you’d end up on, the sort of planet that you saw on horror vids and read about in the tales of survivors of tragedy. You weren’t supposed to be on it. You were just on a short trip, just supposed to go to a stupid holiday planet, at the insistence of your boss that you needed a break from your desk, that you worked too hard. You were a city slicker, an urban citizen, not an outdoorsman or an adventurer, certainly not the sort of person who’d come to a planet like this. But, your pilot had needed to make a stop, said there was a problem with the fuel cells that he needed to check out. So you’d made a pit stop on a barely charted planet. Nothing good ever happens on a barely charted planet. 

Covered in dense, muggy jungle, the planet would have been beautiful had it not been trying to kill you and your, for want of a better word, companion at every turn. It was covered in vibrant green forest, tropical plants, exotic and brightly coloured flowers (many of which, it turns out, were deadly themselves). There were brightly coloured bird-like creatures and primitive mammals that scurried through the trees and across the ground. It would have been beautiful, except for the limp in your walk from the burning claw marks deep in your thick thigh, except for the blood that followed in your wake, the dead bodies of the crew you’d left behind, and the yellow eyes that seemed to follow the two of you under the dark canopy.

After a stupid decision by your group to go out into the jungle to try and find a settlement of some sort, just because it had seemed like (as if there was any real reason to leave), you’d been picked off one by one. You could only describe the beasts as fucked up panthers. Two tails with stingers at the end, sharp spindly spines along their backs, an elongated neck, venomous fangs and sharp teeth and claws. They were hard to spot, silent in the underbrush and decidedly and most definitely deadly. The only reason you were still even alive was because of Riddick, because for some unknown reason the man, the murderer, had decided to stick close to you, like glue. You weren’t complaining.

At the time of boarding the ship for your trip it had seemed horrifying, to know that you were travelling on the same transport as Richard B. Riddick, escaped convict, known murder, predator. He was the sort of man your parents whispered about, the sort of man that you never wanted to meet. He was someone from your worst nightmare. Now he is your saving grace and surprisingly not what you had expected of a notorious big bad. While he meets many of your expectations, crude at times, harsh, and physically intimidating, he defies them too. He is at times oddly gentle with you and, the mere fact he cares about someone’s survival other than his own, is in itself a surprise. A fortunate one for you. 

“Are we nearly back to the ship?” You ask because your leg is killing you, because you so desperately just want to get off this planet even if it means being stuck in a confined space with a convicted murderer. You hate this planet, you hate the constant feeling of fear and of uselessness. You hate the truth of it all, that you are weak, vulnerable, prey not the predator. It has you realising your many weaknesses, many vulnerabilities, many failings. 

“Shhh…” Riddick raises his hand out in front of you, a universal sign to stop, while the other comes to his lips in a shushing motion. If he were a dog, his ears might very well have pricked up at the slightest sound. 

To you nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were no unusual sounds or movement in the brush. You couldn’t see anything out of place. Just as you begin to notice the silence, the lack of sound, that is the moment everything goes terribly wrong.

“Riddic-” You were cut off by your own scream. 

Things happen so fast that you don’t really have time to process them. One minute you are standing behind Riddick attempting to get his attention, the next a dark shape crashes into you and you’re on the jungle floor a heavy weight pressing on your chest and stopping your breathing. Your hands reach up instinctively, pushing against the creature in an effort to keep sharp gnashing teeth from your face, but you’re not strong and you’re not a fighter and you can feel your arms beginning to collapse already. Can hear yourself screaming for Riddick even as part of you thinks he’ll leave you there, abandon you to be eaten alive. There is a deep fear that this is it, this is the end. That it shall be painful, terrifying, lonely, and unfamiliar. 

Claws scratch at your arms, blood runs over your skin in rivulets as you scrabble in the dirt. Then as suddenly as the weight came it was gone, hefted off of you with an angry roar and the sound of a knife hitting flesh over and over again. You don’t look, can’t bring yourself to look, just lie there and breathe, in and out. You don’t want to see him do what he’s good at, don’t want to see alien blood, a dying creature, the parts of him that are less than gentle. So you stare up at the canopy and catch your breath, feeling the blood flow down your arms, the bruises that ache over your stomach, hips and legs. Feel the relief flow through you, combat the shock, as you realise you are not dead, you are alive, and he did not leave you to die. 

You’re rather numb in truth until you hear him muttering above you, “goddamn liability, deadweight…”, it shouldn’t upset you because it’s true. But it does, it upsets and angers you because you didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want any of this and you didn’t ask him to hang around, didn’t ask him to help you. You had no say in this. This was not your idea of a holiday, your idea of fun, or your fault. 

It forces you to your feet, forces you, despite the blood dripping from your wounds, to stand and face him, despite the bruises, despite the pain, despite the fear. You find yourself planting your feet even as you sway unsteadily, standing with hands on your wide hips and a scowl aimed at a man that could kill you easily. For the first time you’re too angry to overthink your actions towards the man. For a moment you stop thinking and start acting. 

“If i’m such a goddamn liability, then just leave me here! I didn’t ask for you to stay, Riddick! I didn’t ask for your help! If it’s such a fucking chore to have me along, if i’m really dead weight then leave me! Go!” You didn’t normally scream at anyone, it wasn’t your personality type. You were quiet, shy, retiring. A wallflower. You didn’t scream. You didn’t start fights. You didn’t do any of that. Anger wasn’t your natural response to anything. Fear was. But after being hunted down, time and time again by giant alien cats with venomous fangs and an uncanny ability to hide on a jungle planet, all while being called a liability, a dead weight by the one person you had to rely on, well, you were finally at your wits end. You were in pain, you were upset, frustrated and ready to just go home. 

You didn’t understand it. Why Riddick even bothered with you, practically a stranger. You knew you were a liability, that’s why it hurt so much when he said it. You were soft, emotionally and physically. You were a slow runner, a poor fighter, had terrible eyesight that required glasses, you weren’t light on your feet or graceful and you certainly didn’t know much about survival. You were overweight, unfit and unsure on your feet. You were prone to panic and tears, you were easily emotionally and physically unbalanced. Until this trip from hell you’d been content in the inner rim, working a normal job, a safe life. Your day to day had been comfortable, safe. Easy. You weren’t cut out for this, for danger and potential death and had Riddick, this known criminal, one of the most sought after murderers in the verse, not decided to stick by your side you’d have died at least ten times already. It didn’t make any sense and your frustration at yourself, the situation and at him had tears pooling in your eyes. You didn’t ask for any of this.

“I can’t.” He’s so impassive, so calm, that it pisses you off more. It pisses you off how hard it is to read him, how he hides his eyes behind black goggles that stop you understanding him. How he hides all emotion from you so easily. How is he okay with this? How is he so calm when everything around the two of you wants to kill you, when he could have left this goddamn planet already if you weren’t slowing him down at every turn? How could he stand there above the body of some hell spawn creature and just stare at you like that, like everything was just fine, just normal? Like he wasn’t covered in it’s blood. Like you weren’t dripping in your own. Like you hadn’t almost died. Again. 

“I..I don’t get it…? What do you mean you can’t? You could walk the fuck away right now. I can’t stop you! No one else is here to stop you! If you want to leave, leave! No one’s holding you back, Riddick! No one is going to stop you! I can’t bloody well can’t! Look at me!” You sound hysterical even to your own ears but you can’t help it. You are so scared, so confused, so frustrated, so panicked by all that’s happened, all that could happen. You gesture down to yourself, to the bloody coating you, the way you protectively hold yourself off of your hurt leg, the sheer stature different between the two of you. All the things that make it very abundantly clear that if he chose to simply walk away you couldn’t stop him. 

“Listen, princess, it’s not that fucking simple!” The snap is almost relieving, that he’s not as cold, not as impassive as you thought. That he could break too. That he could be angry, that he could be upset, that this wasn’t just normal. Even as his steps closer cause your back to hunch, cause you to second guess your antagonist behaviour. 

“I don’t understand!” 

With a growl he’s crowding you against a tree, thick arms caging you in. He’s imposing, large, a head taller than you and the action has him taking over every one of your senses. He never touches you in anger and while the display is intimidating, it oddly enough doesn’t scare you. It almost feels secure. Perhaps because not once has he done anything to suggest to you that he would hurt you, every move he’s made has been to keep you safe. Every time he’s touched you has been to pull you from danger or bring you back to your feet. Despite his harsh appearance, his foul language and the deadliness that he displays at every turn, he has never once given you cause to fear him. To fear how he would treat you. 

“You’re my mate, got it?! I don’t get to choose, I don’t get a choice! I can’t leave you! I just fucking can’t, so you’re a fucking liability and dead weight, but you’re my dead weight, got it? I ain’t fucking leaving you, we either both get off this motherfucking planet or we both get eaten by these fucks, princess. There’s no inbetween, understand?” Silver eyes flash at you as he tears the goggles from his eyes,  his brow furrows and the muscles in his thick neck and broad shoulders bunch and move with every piece of tension that bursts through him. You are distinctly and sharply reminded that Riddick is a predator in every sense of the word, while you are prey. You are on two separate ends of the spectrum. 

“Mate…?” Your eyes flit across the landscape behind his head, trying to process all those words and all their meanings. You don’t understand, you don’t understand any of it. But, those words soothe you in a way you can’t explain. He isn’t going to leave you. For whatever reason, for whatever this is, whatever he means, he isn’t going to leave you.  You let out a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding. He’s not leaving, even if you’re a liability, a deadweight. Even when things get bad, he’s not leaving. He is, at this point, your only chance at getting home, getting away from him, of surviving. The panic in you begins to soothe, calm and settle. 

“We don’t have time for this.” You’re startled by the sudden display of affection as the man cups the back of your neck and presses his forehead into your own, “Just trust me.”

“I do, Riddick, I trust you” It’s hard to explain, the trust you feel for him, the safety as you let him lead you once more through the jungle. You are bleeding, in pain and still ever so aware of the dangers around you, but you have an implicit belief that with Riddick you are as safe as you can be. That if there was ever a person to carry you through this it would be him. 

You might still be confused, might not understand what he means by you being his mate or by his obligation towards you, but you know that he isn't leaving you for dead and that is enough right now. That is more than enough.

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@charradelange @belfry-bat  @gabile18 @beccaboo929​  @trasheater

[burnedbyshoto]

peeping tom(mina)

— Mina finds a peephole in her room that looks directly into your room and discovers a sight that slightly rocks her entire life.

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pairing: ashido mina x fem!reader

warning: 18+, smut, voyeur!mina, mutual masturbation, vibrator, dildos, finger fucking, cursing, peephole, lesbianism

word count: 2,815

a/n: sorry its a day late!!!! have some pervy roommate mina rn and some abo shiggy in about a few hours!!!!

kinktober day 11 main kink: voyeurism | kinktober masterlist

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Mina has a dirty secret.

And just thinking about it makes her shy, and she has never been a shy girl.

Since she could fully understand what sex was, she had always been someone who was incredibly sex-positive. Mina was also a full-body worshiper, someone who found everyone’s bodies hot and attractive. It never really surprised anyone when they found this out. She was always the type to point out how that person’s ass looked hot in jeans, or how that shirt made that person’s boobs look full, soft, and luscious. She held back at absolutely nothing, making sure to let everyone know her opinion on how and why she currently found them attractive. 

So the ones she would eventually bring to bed were also unsurprised by the enthusiasm she held when she kissed down their bodies, fingers massaging every piece of skin and muscle as she moaned praises. To Mina, bodies were a temple, and when she was visiting, she was going to make sure you knew how fascinating she thought it to be.

Even now, at twenty-two, she never hated pointing out what she thought to be positive about people’s bodies. It was almost second nature.

“Can you please tell me why your legs look hot as fuck in those sweats?!” Mina practically screamed, dramatically fanning herself when you walked into the kitchen.

It was Saturday night, and Mina found herself in her apartment, blinds are drawn open, blankets were strewn around the living room, and hot homemade food sizzling on the stove. You were her roommate, and you’ve been her roommate for about seven months now. Both of you had met in a college class, being paired up multiple times for a few projects in the year had created an unlikely friendship that resulted in a roommate contract because you were moving to Tokyo after graduation, and hey! So was Mina!

You snorted by the stove, flipping the sweet crepes you had been making for the both of you in the pan. Turning your head to look at Mina, you playfully winked at her, posing your body in faux-seductive ways while you dipped your head back. 

“What can I say, the sweats of a heartbroken ex always look hotter on a champions fat ass.”

Mina laughed loudly, her hands bringing her sweet rosé to her lips, taking a long, deep drink of the alcoholic beverage. “I can’t believe you keep your exes clothes! I burn all of mine,” Mina states as if the two of you hadn’t already had this conversation a thousand times. 

“I don’t think you can talk!” you scoff, spatula in hand, flipping the light sweet into a roll. “You’re the one who goes and buys actual metals for every successive man you fuck! And you have sooo many metals!”

Also, something that had been repeated a million times, and yet never failed to get either one of you two in some laughing flush. 

“I do have so many metals,” Mina sighs, the grin on her face bright and proud while you walk over, crepes in hand. Thanking you for the food, Mina waited for you to settle down next to her before resuming the movie the two of you had decided to watch. “I promise, y/n, if you just look a guy in the eye and tell him you like his shoulders and his thighs, you’ll get him in bed in a blink of an eye.”

You hum, taking a chug of the rosé straight from the bottle, releasing it with a small pop that made Mina’s eyes rest on your swollen, wet lips. 

“Yeah, no. You see, I’m not really interested in that sort of stuff,” you admit, taking a bite from the crepe as the movie slowly becomes background noise.

“You haven’t dated anyone since high school,” Mina more than points out, tugging at the indeed high school logoed sweatpants. “That was like, four years ago, and you don’t sleep around?! What is it? You waiting for the Prince of some unknown country to come and wed you without you realizing he’s a prince? I mean, you can totally do that, especially with that hot bod of yours, but I know all the princes our age, none of them are even remotely hot!”

Mina watched as your eyes dropped to your food, the smile on your face small, maybe a bit... sad?

“It’s not that,” you shrugged, your eyes moving to lock on Mina. “Mina, I’m gay.”

What?

Processing Data…

Processing Data…

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Data Processed. Please Continue.

“WHAT?!”

A shit-eating grin spread on your face, and you nodded, taking another gulp of the rosé and shoving more crepe in your mouth. 

“YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU ALLOWED ME TO HAVE HETEROSEXUAL SEX WITH YOU IN THE APARTMENT AND DIDN’T TELL ME?!” Mina shrieked, suddenly mortified with her actions as her fingers clenched her curly pink hair. “WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE MEN I TRIED HOOKING YOU UP WITH?! I mean, I know you didn’t fuck any of them, which ended up all fine because I would have cried if Kiri, Denki, or Sero stopped showing up.”

“Mina!” you laughed.

“I can’t believe you allowed me to force men on you; I’m so sorry, sweetie!”

Mina froze when your warm fingers suddenly grabbed onto hers, pulling her cold palms near your chest as your slightly glazed with alcohol eyes took her in.

“Listen, Mina, I’ll say this once, and I’ll repeat this. I didn’t tell you because I don’t care to share my sexuality. Not only that but all those men you introduced me to almost made me wish I was straight! Almost, but they’re a bit too…” Mina watched you trail off, your hammering heart a gentle smooth on her fingers.

“Stupid?” Mina tried, and you laughed as you nodded.

“Yeah, stupid.”

Mina gulped, her head nodding while you finally let go of her hands and sighed.

“Don’t be weird about it, Pinky,” you muse, shoving your shoulder against her. “I won’t hit on ya.”

Mina scoffed, clearly offended, “I think you should, though, my body is hot, and my kisses are just as good.”

It was said in jest, and Mina’s heart fluttered at the way you laughed with her in good spirits. That was normal, right?

Eventually, the contents of the rosé disappeared between the two of you, the movie long done, and the crepes sitting warm and sweet in your stomachs. Mina smiled brightly as she waved at you a simple goodnight as she needed to reorganize her snacks cabinet. Hearing the small click of your room door, Mina slumped against the counter, a weird feeling in her brain at the sudden revelation from you.

It didn’t make you any different in her eyes, she wasn’t a bigot, but there was something different.

Something new.

The cabinet wasn’t fixed up at all, Mina’s attention span forbidding her from reorganizing the cabinet until she turned off the lights and dragged her feet back into her room, conveniently located directly next to yours.

The apartment layout was weird.

Instead of a typical hallway separating the two rooms, it was a single, thin wall.

Now, Mina would categorize herself as many things, but dramatic was never one of them. But the way she had slammed her door in an attempt to clear the muggy storm of her thoughts might have been dramatic of her. Maybe a bit too dramatic. 

A loud tear came from the right side of her room, and Mina gasped loudly as the shelf showcasing her plethora of medals for all her sexual conquests tore the wall as it fell off. Stupid heavy bitch! Racing over to the wall, Mina frantically grabbed at the tearing cheap wallpaper, her eyes wide with worry as she tried to fix the shelf to no avail.

“M-Mina, are you okay?” a gasped breath came from the direct another side of the wall. 

“It’s all good!” Mina laughed loudly, her heart pounding because she was going to confess what was going on the second you asked again, as you usually do. But the only thing that followed was the roaring of her blood and heart as she stared at the wall.

Weird.

Mina didn’t dwell on it for too long, her hands throwing the medals off the shelf and onto the bed as she picked at the wall. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She grazed the center of the wall and watched in horror as the wall crumbled at the touch, and she bit her tongue to keep from hysterically sobbing as a hole opened up from your room to hers. All things considered, it wasn’t a big hole, no bigger than the diameter of her pinky, but it was still a hole in the wall.

Despite the crack in the wall, Mina swore or prayed that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Pressing to the hole, she peered in and froze immediately. 

There weren’t many things in the world that made Mina freeze, but this was one of them. Her eye pressed to the wall saw that you were on the bed. Your sweats dropped around your ankles, shirt bunched above your breasts so that your fingers twisted and pulled at your nipples. The other hand held a vibrator to your clit.

Your face was scrunched up, the low hum of the vibrator suddenly piercing through the small crack in the wall, alerting Mina of a straight fire that erupted between her thighs as she watched you fuck yourself. The arch of your back when you come off the mattress makes her thighs rub together, and how your lips part in what she knows to be the most delicious moan, she’s ever managed to hear.

Mina isn’t sure when you stop masturbating that night, or even more importantly: when her panties became as fucking wet as they are.

She manages to put the shelf back onto the wall, her face absolutely red as she turns off the lights, ashamed to even go to the bathroom despite the discomfort of the slick between her folds. She dreams of having your mouth between her legs that night.

It doesn’t stop there, Mina’s ashamed to admit. 

As a matter of fact, she’s probably obsessed. 

She definitely didn’t keep her ear to the wall, desperately waiting to hear the low hum of the vibrator through the wall. She definitely didn’t pull the still broken shelf from the wall to peer through that crack to watch as you fucked yourself. She definitely does not, and she means, does not rub her fingers against her clit as she watches you.

But what was she currently doing when she heard the all too familiar consistent humming of one of your plenty of vibrators? She was stumbling off her bed, throwing the shelf off the wall, and using the crack in the wall to stare into your room. Except as she now unashamedly moved her fingers into her swats, fingertips grazing her already humming clit, she froze at the new sight she saw.

Typically, when you masturbated, you would lay along your bed. Your body laid out flat from the side for Mina to see. She never actually saw the slick of your cunt, or the way your pretty cunt would look like as you fucked yourself against a dildo. But today? Oh god, today was different.

You were propped up against the wall, your legs pressed open for Mina to see in all your glory. Your slicked, pretty pussy revealed for her eyes, and your head leaning against the wall as she watched. 

Mina moaned as her fingers began to rub her clit, the already fluttering, simmering sensation radiating from her bundle of nerves too tight, too demanding to ignore. She circled her clit as your fingers dipped into your core, and she bit her lower lip at the refined look of elation that wiped over your face. 

Your fingers moved in and out of your cunt, and Mina was hooked on the very exact angle your fingers were going in. Her mind wandering as she imagined that it was her in there with you. That it was her holding her fingers to your cunt, and not just fantasizes that drove her insane. Mina gasped as suddenly the dormant warmth in her legs sparked into a growing fire that made her legs shake and had her resting her forehead upon the wall.

Her eyes struggled to open when your feet kicked up off the mattress, toes curled to the balls of your feet as you keened loudly. A whimper left her lips at the way you moaned, the soft, beautiful sounds making Mina sink an impatient hand in her core.

She fucked herself, her eyes fluttering, lips gasping for air as she pressing her warm fingers against her even warmer walls. Mina gasped your name, her eyes trying to focus on that wall, and was absolutely frozen at the sight she saw next. 

You were holding a double ended dildo to your cunt, fucking your sopping wet cunt that Mina swore she could hear from her room. The vibrator was still on your clit, and Mina snapped her hips further, stronger into her scissoring fingers. It felt like you were teasing her with the toy as if you knew she was watching in and were teasing and testing her limits. Mina could feel herself shoving that dildo as far up her cunt as she could get it, her hands holding on to your beautiful thighs and bringing you in so that your slick cunts could grind against each other, fuck each other properly. If her brain wasn’t so muddled, she wouldn’t be thinking you were looking at her right now through the peephole, and she wouldn’t be thinking about the million different ways she’d fuck you given the opportunity. She wondered if you had a strap. Would you wear it if her fantasies were to ever come true? Would she? 

Mina couldn’t dwell on the secrets she wished to know because suddenly, you let out one of the loudest, most lewd moans Mina had ever heard emitted from your swollen lips. The slick of her heat and the wet of her essence easily letting her fingers glide about her clenching walls with practiced, well-known ease. You gasped, your eyes fluttering to the back of your head as your hand holding the dildo became more frantic, sloppier, before stopping altogether, and although you had reached an orgasm — Mina swore she saw god. 

Your orgasmic euphoric face was unlike anything Mina had ever seen.

The flustered, quiet pleasure reeking from every small line in your face, the way your mouth dropped just enough so that your pink tongue was on full display, the way you fought between biting down on your lip or letting yourself moan in your high. But it was the way your eyes crossed that sent Mina’s forehead slamming against her fist on the wall, muting the way Mina felt her walls clench wildly and tightly around her curled, lithe fingers.

She breathed in her descent, her cheeks burning with the same and bliss she always felt after orgasming. It wasn’t fair she came so soon watching you fuck yourself, especially as she knew she typically took so long in bed with men to make cum.

“Do you want to try it out?” your voice slipped into the room, and Mina froze, her blood suddenly turning ice cold. Her eyes snapped back to the dirty peephole to see that you were, in fact, staring into the hole, hand sliding the dildo into your cunt still, still willing and ready to go more round. “It gets a little lonely putting on a show for you night after night, Mina, and for you to never come and collect your prize.”

Mina swallowed, her eyes blinking owlishly at the way you shifted forward, turning so that your ass was in the air, knees, and chest on the mattress.

You knew.

“Come and collect your prize, please.”

“Y-Yes!”

Mina learned two things that night.

One: she especially and equally enjoyed having listless amounts of body worship mantra on her skin. The feeling of wet lips and hot breathes with things she was so used to giving made her cum around your pretty little fingers much more than she’d ever thought possible.

Two: you had known after the first night that she had caught you masturbating. Apparently, Mina was much louder than she thought herself to be, and when whining your name — she doesn’t remember even speaking — you had known and did all you could to finally getting your impulsive roommate to fuck you.

Oh, and I guess there is one more thing too!

Three: Mina had the absolute hots for you and was going to take you out for a proper date, tomorrow.

[unbridgeabledistances]

ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3

anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)

in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3

(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)

--

There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.

It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:

“You could try swimming across the border.”

“I never learned how, man.”

And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”

It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.

Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”

Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.

Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:

“I wanna try something today.”

Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.

Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.

“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.

Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.

“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”

Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.

Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.

Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.

“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”

And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.

“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”

Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”

Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.

Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.

“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”

Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C’mon.”

Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.

“You coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.

“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.

Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”

Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”

Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.

With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.

“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”

Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.

“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”

Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.  

“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”

They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.

Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!”

Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.

Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.

“Truce!”

Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.

“Truce.”

Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”

Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”

Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”

Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”

Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.

“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”

Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”

Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”

Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.

“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”

Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.

“Little help here, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.

He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”

Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.

Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”

He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.

“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”

As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.

Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.

And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.

Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.

Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.

And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.

Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing—  it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.

It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.

By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.

Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.

They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.

Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.  

Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity  zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.

Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.

**

Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.

Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”

Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”

[dracosathenaeum]

Playing in the Rain

Summary: Draco hates the rain but ends up playing in it with you

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 792

#A/N: Requested by @beiahadid​ thank you for requesting!! and I'm sorry it took me so long to write it! I needed a break from the angst I was writing and this basically wrote itself so I hope you like it!! Thank again!! 

If there was one thing Draco hated more than Harry Potter, it was rain… and storms. Being British, you’d think he’d be used to the constant rain and muggy weather; but no. The sound of rain that soothed you, was the same sound that instantly put Draco into a bad mood. Yet here he was, stood in the archway of the courtyard; watching you twirl in the rain; arms open, head tilted up to the sky. The look of utter joy plastered across your face was the opposite to his own.

The sight of you looking so happy and content was almost enough for him to ignore the fact that rain was splashing up at his ankles. The things he did for you.

Usually during storms Draco would make sure to lie on top of you, trapping you in his bed so that this very situation wouldn’t occur. He knew you loved the rain, and he loved that about you, he loved all of you after all. But he just didn’t understand why you felt the need to go stand in it at 2am when you could be in bed cuddling with him and not getting soaked to the bone and waking up with a cold. (You’d never tell him but you’d secretly wish to wake up sick just so Draco would play nurse and baby you.)

“It’s not even raining that hard c’mon!”

Merlin help him.

“I told you, there’s nothing you can do that’ll make me join you out there. Let’s go back to bed.” The little glint in your eyes and smirk that came onto your face had him fearing for his life. He didn’t want to know what you were thinking of.

“I still can’t believe that big scary Draco Malfoy; THE Slytherin Prince is scared of water!” You took a step closer to him with every word you spoke, waiting for the right time to drag him with you into the rain.

As much as he hated being wet and soaked, he’d happily gather you into his arms if that meant you both could go inside. “I’m not scared of water; I don’t like storms. I mean who likes being trapped inside all day or getting soaked to the bone when they’re outside? And thunder and lightning are unnerving, children and animals are scared of it for a reason.” Okay perhaps that hadn’t been the best argument on his half. He had been so busy spouting his hatred of the rain that he didn’t know of your intentions until it was too late.

You had a firm grip on his hand and pulled him towards you, using the element of surprise to pull his body weight out from the cover of the archway. He steadied himself and closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he stood there, just thinking. He was gathering himself together; he literally hated nothing more than getting soaked, I mean what if he got hit by lightning??

Wet hands cupped his wet face, “Oh come on! It’s not that bad, come play with me!” You held your breath as he opened his eyes, the expression on his face unchanged. So maybe, that was a mistake you thought.

“Run.”

“What?” you weren’t given a chance to question him further as his body lunged towards your, hands gipping your waist as he tickled you. Your body writhed in his hold as you tried to get away, shrieking in laughter, hands pulling at his arms to no avail. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could hear the laughter mixing with yours. So, you instead brought your hands to cup his face again, lips covering his. But the second you felt his hands loosen their grip on you; you bolted. You ran, almost slipping over a couple times, laughter filling the courtyard as Draco ran after you, a determined look on his face.

“Give up! We both know I’m faster than you!”

“Never- “

You had tripped.

Over your own two feet.

On the plus side, Draco had been so close to catching up to you that you had ended up tripping him up on your way down, his legs tangled in your own as his hand stopped your head from hitting the concrete below. You sheepishly looked up at him, he still had one hand under your head, the other next to it, propping himself up. “Whoops?”

He raised an eyebrow as if to question the sincerity of your words, but it was not two seconds later that you both burst out laughing; Draco rolling to lie beside you on the wet ground as he lost the strength to hold himself up, tears streaming down both your faces.

Maybe the rain wasn’t so bad after all.

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