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kthecutest · 1 year ago

Note

can u write ways that &team members being (kinda overly) protective of their s/o? thanks!!

✧˚ &team members being overprotective of you ༊*·˚

Pairing ➳ &Team members x gn!reader Genre ➳ Fluff ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ A/N ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Brain block wasn't wearing off for so long (╥ᆺ╥；)and this came out way longer than I thought cuz I got carried away; as usual ( ≖‿ ≖ ). Anyways hope you'll enjoy it!

✧•——————•°•✧•°•——————•✧

K : It’s been almost forever, catching up to the latest updates with your old highschool classmate. The hot coffee in your hand already loosing its initial heat, you were completely distracted in the chaotic chatter, and had forgotten that you two weren’t the only ones there. A set of dull piercing eyes were set tightly on your distracted figure and it wasn’t long before you felt an aggressive grasp on your snatched waist, turning to the side to check the situation in a surprised state. “Ah? Seems like you guys have a lot to discuss on… hopefully I weren’t much of an interruption.. right honey..~?” a soft tone spoken, anger and possessiveness dripping straight through each letter. Just that alone was enough to send out a warning to you; he’s jealous. The morning coffee cup in his hand is now being squeezed tight to the point the liquid was starting to seep out the lid. “oh babe um.. you’re done getting the coffee? Sorry I’m afraid I must take my leave now, Nicho” you quickly answered him while excusing yourself from your conversation mate trying to make best of the situation. Nicholas, your chatmate caught up to the situation fast, giving you a nod as a goodbye as he watched you both walked away with a slight stinging stare in his narrowed eyes, almost summoning invisible daggers at K’s direction.

Thankfully, you succeeded in separating you and K from Nicho but your sigh of relief was shortly interrupted by a loud thud as you were pinned to the wall of the alleyway, a tall strong figure towering above you.

“So.. finally done running that mouth honey~?”

Fuma : The radient purple and blue dwelled on the sky canvas as nighttime falls. You were pretty bored but was also filled with a spring of energy hence why you dragged your boyfriend, Fuma all the way to the night bar with you. The original plan was to simply hang out on your seats alone with glasses of red wine in each hand and sharing kisses but it was all rudely interrupted when a sudden ‘hello’ popped out from behind you. “Ah! Euijoo..? Long time no see!” You instantly got up from your seat giving him a warm hug which he quickly reciprocated, earning a slight glare from the man beside you two. “Didn’t knew you would show up in a place like this”, you teased the young boy in front of you. Euijoo always had a pure innocent look to him. He seemed like the type of guy who have never even held a girl’s hand let alone date one and he sure is definitely not the guy to show up at a bar. “Haha I just saw you through the glass pane so I wanted to come in and join you” Somehow this statement seemed to have only pissed your already fuming boyfriend off. He came here specifically just to see you? Hell no not on my watch. You felt a hand snaked right around your waist as you felt a figure shift closer to you. “Dear~, it’s pretty late already.. maybe we should head back what do you say?” You didn’t think much of it since Fuma wasn’t a type to be jealous anyways but you only took his words as him being caring. “Sorry Euijoo, maybe we can arrange a day where we can talk properly?” “Sure! I’ll see ya soon!” You waved goodbye to the sweet boy as Fuma dragged you out of the bar in a very unusual almost aggressive manner.

The car was steadily parked in front of the apartment block as feet and shoes clashed in the door way. Your breath was directed right at Fuma’s exposed neck as he unraveled his tie. His muscular arms trapping you in between while your back stuck to the wall.

“You’re testing my patience way too much love~”

Nicholas : You were seated cozily between the two taller boys, under a warm sky blue blanket as a horror movie played on the screen in front. The couch kept constantly swinging from the motions of your best friend K jumping and twitching at every jumpscare. “Seriously K, that was a really expected one you know” “Oh c’monnn! The face was still pretty scary though!” he defended back as he clinged onto you. “Oi you’re heavy c’mon get off” K was about to make another whiny remark when he felt the pressure of a strong hand gripping onto his. “You’re gonna end up giving her a muscle strain” a low voice followed by a chuckle arose from behind you. Still the teasing chuckle did not help on hiding the irritation in your boyfriend’s voice. The grip around K’s hand kept tightening until he finally caught up to his irritation as he let go of your shoulder, the grip weakening.

You three practically just coughed awkwardly and played it off as the movie kept advancing. It’s just been a few minutes until you felt a hand of someone on your thigh. The cold rings on the fingers sent tingles down your skin but before you could try to rule out the person, you felt a low breathy voice in your right ear.

“Don’t you think you’re getting too close to your dear best friend, babygirl?”

Euijoo : “Yah! That’s cheating you can’t cross that area!” you screamed your hands set on the game controller moving your fingers on the keys in a swift pace. “Oops, sorry~ well you gotta learn how to work around the rules, you should learn from me” a prideful voice arose from the towering figure sat beside you. “Excuse me?!” It wasn't long until you started tickling him as he reciprocated the action. Fuma is one of your boyfriend’s close friend that he introduced to you since you two started dating. And well you’re a pretty outgoing person so it didn’t take long for you to get comfortable with Fuma in a brotherly way of course. You guys always bricker and share a lot of physical contact which you believed your boyfriend, Euijoo would not mind at all. He’s always been sweet and understanding and definitely is the furthest thing from being jealous or possessive. Well that’s what you thought until you felt a hand stop the bickering between you and Fuma, as the hand grabbed you gently but swiftly away from him. “Alright guys enough play fighting” the sweet voice of your boyfriend was heard loud and clear behind your ear and throughout the room.

You and Fuma just went silent with a pout on each of your faces. The boy sticked his tongue out your way as he turned his head back towards the screen to return back to gaming and you still a bit pissed off at the taunt, planned to do the same until you felt Euijoo’s whisper in your ear.

“Baby.. you shouldn’t keep testing my patience like this..~”

Yuma : Even though your cat-like boyfriend could be quite chaotic most of the time but he sure does put all his effort into planning dates for you two. Except this time things didn’t went as expected. Your best friend had somewhere to be at immediately. This led to her basically yeeting her younger brother Jo right at your doorstep telling you to keep him accompanied for the time being. It’s not that Jo was a 1 year old child or anything, he’s pretty much almost 20 and a full grown adult. But he had a pretty overprotective sister who would either keep him with her or leave him to someone she entrusts so the age card didn’t really helped. And now here he was tagging along on you and your boyfriend’s well-planned date. Not that you mind it, you pretty much just noted it as a three-people hangout. He was pretty quiet and just listened to whatever you and Yuma had to say. He’s pretty much like a cute clueless little kid following you two but that same thought didn’t seep through Yuma’s head. Not that Yuma was making a big scene out of it all neither was he fuming from the head or something. But he sure was being a pouty clingy kitty.

And it wasn’t long until you felt his body heat on your back pressed up against you. You could see Jo being distracted by some kind of treat and you were glad he was. You felt a hand on your waist and fluffy hair sneaked cozily on the side of your neck.

“Hmph.. love~ you’ll need to pay me back with cuddles when we get back home~”

Jo : The gleaming sun was already up and high in the sky. You turned to your side to check the alarm as it read 10:02am. As usual you made your way downstairs, sprinting straight to your tall boyfriend standing in the hallway with a bowl of Japanese white rice in his hands, hugging him in a whiff as he stumbled back from your sudden force. “Baby! I’m hungryyy~” you opened your mouth expecting him to be sweet enough to feed you some of his rice. Instead you opened your eyes to witness him putting the spoon in his own mouth as a cheeky smug formed across his face. Your boyfriend is the most caring one in the world but food is an exception. He’s too much of a foodie to even share which didn’t really ticked you off but still always earned a pout from you. “Hehe no worries~ your savior is here!” you heard a cute energetic tone sprang behind you as well as the wrinkling of the plastic bags containing milk buns. “Yay! You’re the best!” you whined, hugging your friend Harua instantly earning a surprised yelp from him.

That’s when you felt a sudden pull from behind as your back was glued to Jo’s chest in just a few seconds before you tasted the white rice in your mouth. Jo was tilting the spoon into your mouth with fixed cold eyes on Harua. The eyes that seem unphased but also a bit irritated in the same sense.

“No need. She prefers rice for breakfast.”

Harua : Today was supposed to be the perfect food date for you and Harua; but things did not turned out as planned when you two decided to check out a dango stall around the corner.

Harua, your sweet boyfriend, is really keen on sweets and snacks so are you. Finally, you two came up with a plan that the very next date should be at a food market where dim lit snack stalls stand in a long line of queue awaiting for visitors. And as planned, the very next Sunday you both were at the location running left and right, an assortment of dishes sprawled out on each stall. Seeing the tri-colored dango stand on the other side of the line, the two can’t help but sprint right to there. “Hello! Can I have this, and this and that.. and-“ the orders were shortly paused when you caught a glimpse of the boy in front packing up the dango orders. “Taki!?” “Oh hey! Finally noticed me missy? Didn’t knew you would forget me that easily oh my” as dramatic as ever. “Haha jk! Anyways yea I’m just working parttime in the stall here for now, maybe you wanna grab a drink or two after work hours?” You smiled, a ‘yes’ about to leave your lips before you felt your boyfriend’s gentle hand on yours.

“Sorry, her evening is occupied.”

Taki : Woo hoo! Amusement park with Taki! Nothing could compare to how fun that would be. Until you were proven wrong.

You two ended up running into your boyfriend’s older brother, K. You were now convinced this date which has just turned into a hangout is gonna be even more fun! I mean who wouldn’t have fun with such a funny chaotic playful K in the equation. But that same formula doesn’t apply to your boyfriend because an obvious shade formed on his face as soon as K popped up. Before you realized your feelings for your best friend Taki, you had a deep crush on none other than his brother K. Not that you had confessed or anything, but you simply moved on later onwards and you obviously did not take account or take notice that little Taki would be a bit possessive and careful about that past statement. But Taki knew about it all and he is infact not as friendly about it as you thought. And now things turn for worse when you’re smiling and giggling, having way too much fun with K at YOUR DATE WITH TAKI. He’s definitely fuming. “Taki? Baby you’re awfully quiet. Something wrong?” you finally took notice of his absurd change in behavior. Him not wanting to ruin the day and the vibes; “Yea yea, just maybe the heat is getting to me” Obviously, Taki’s lie did not get past you but before you could even reply to his excuse, you felt yourself get dragged in a whip right into one of the capsules of the ferris wheel.

“Finally noticed me now huh?”

Maki : You never took Maki as the type to be a jealous person especially because he is always such a gentleman. The only image of him that filled your head was gentle, sweet, understanding and definitely the furthest thing away from the words possessive or jealous.

But it seems you didn’t know him well enough or he’s just too good at hiding it; he couldn’t hide it no more though, specifically when his older cousin, Nicholas paid a visit to you two. Just a simple helper who came to help out you two in your cooking session right? Except that the helper himself is a flirt; which was not helping the situation out at all. Nicholas unlike his cousin Maki got absolutely NO CHILL, and I’m talking he will rizz you up and flirt with you any chance he got, throwing smirks at Maki’s direction whenever he catches your boyfriend’s death glares. You were cutting up some Chinese cabbage when you felt a hand snaked around your waist. Assuming it was your boyfriend you turned around to find someone else. “Woah Nicho? ..what are you doing?” “Hm? Why? Can’t I just watch from here~?” a smug look on his face. Before you could recover from your shocked state, you were pulled right into a warm chest, far left from Nicho which pushed you to look up.

“No. No you cannot watch.”

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katyawriteswhump · 9 months ago

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Pin-up boy (steddie microfic)

For @steddiemicrofic March prompt, ‘pin.’ Thank you <3

WC: 388. Rating: T. CW: None. Tags: Steve and Eddie return to High School (because I say so!) post S4 healing, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers.

…

In the library, Eddie found Steve slumped at a table, face pillowed in his arms. Robin sat beside Steve, rubbing his back.

“He okay?” asked Eddie.

“Bad headache,” mumbled Steve. “M’not deaf, Munson. Yet.”

“Came on sudden.” Robin’s obvious worry mirrored Eddie’s. They’d persuaded Steve to re-take senior year, and these ‘study meets’ rocked Eddie’s days. Though Robin tried, no ‘studying’ happened; they’d be idiots till the librarian booted them. It was really an excuse to check each other was okay, post-Upside Down everything. Plus, Eddie dug hanging with Robin… Aaaand with his secret crush.

“Got your meds?” asked Eddie.

“In my locker.” Steve threw his keys at Eddie.

“You trust me with your car-key too?”

“Like you need those to boost my wheels.” Steve blinked blearily. “The pink pills, ’kay?”

Steve’s locker contained a ton of meds. Some—for PTSD, anxiety—Eddie took also. The ‘pink pills,’ however, were hardcore painkillers that Eddie had been able to ditch. He’d snatched them up, when a grainy pic—pinned discreetly at the back—caught his eye.

IT’S ME! Ax-wielding at a Corroded Coffin gig.

The love-hearts pencilled in the margins set Eddie’s world on fire.

…

When Eddie returned, Steve wouldn’t raise his burning face. He couldn’t handle Eddie knowing, even after the painkillers kicked in. The old Steve Harrington would’ve powered through, but… Ouch! Not today.

Eddie cornered him near the lockers. Steve glared.

“Feeling better?” asked Eddie.

Steve shrugged.

Eddie slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Wanna show you something.”

Steve tensed, nearly bolted, but… Christ, it was better said: “Yeeeah, my locker. I got all brain-foggy and forgot that pic was there. It’s a dumb joke—”

“Sure hope it’s not.” Eddie flung his locker open. A shirtless picture of Steve by the pool was pinned, very visibly, to the door. My Little Pony stickers formed a love-heart around it.

“For once, skulls and crossbones didn’t nail it,” said Eddie. “I owe Lady Applejack a billion dollars for those babies.”

“Is this some twisted joke?”

“My Little Ponies aside, I’m deadly serious, Stevie.”

Steve fixated on Eddie’s gorgeous eyes. Jesus, this was real! The guy who’d shared his healing, who got who he was now, felt the same.

“Screw it, me too.” They couldn’t be alone quick enough. Steve let Eddie pin him to the wall, and they made out forever.

...

All my Steddie fic can also be found here on AO3 :)

#steddiemicroficmarch #steddiemicrofic #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie fluff

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caxde · 8 months ago

Note

You said I can send requests and I'm gonna take you up on that offer, my friend.

I'm still in my SoftDad!Eddie brain rot. I'm rolling with the "Dada's Princess" here and imagining little Lua making a flower crown for Princess. Or them making them together to both be "Dada's Princess". Because I knowwwww just the sight of it would make Eddie just melt into a puddle.

Also, love your writing and your beautiful mind for creating such a cute story so far!

💜

Omg thank you soo much <33 i love getting request so this is ideal i ran with the flower crowns idea hope you like it <33 feel free to request anything you like!

bright eyes universe drabble ~1.6k girl!dad eddie

Spring was in full bloom.

You had a day off, and you decided to sleep in, letting the sun rays that sneak in through your window slowly wake you up. It was recomforting, the mundane feeling of it all.

So you enjoyed a hot long shower, singing every song that played on the tape that Eddie had gifted you as a thank you to watching over Lua. It had a little of them both, Bowie and The Smiths had been Lua’s idea -that much was clear- Metallica and Iron Maiden had to be his, but the Led Zeppelin and Fleetwood Mac -you thought- Eddie had chosen because he had heard you singing them when you didn’t even notice you were doing so. A level of attention you were just realising now, in that moment as the hot water hitted your sore back.

A slow morning called for a hot tea, like the ones you used to make for yourself before you had any real responsibilities.

Your hair still somehow wet, brushed away from your face, and that gow that a much needed shower left on your face, you felt clean, soft from once. You grabbed the first clean top that was on your folded laundry pile, a baby blue colour that complimented your skin, some washed up dark jeans to cover your legs.

You walked to your porch, wanting to let your hair dry while you just drank your cup.

Little did you know, a little surprised waited in your door.

A letter was hanging on your door, with a small yet thick piece of duct tape.

Lilac drawings of misshaped stars and hearts decorated the page.

It read:

“Duchess Lua of the mighty Hawkins Trailer Park would like to invite Princess to her court outing this afternoon. We shall have a refreshing picnic by the lake, please, confirm your assistance with Eddie the Once Banished.

Sincerely your dearest friend, Duchess Lua Munson.”

It made you giggle, and blush at the same time. You could tell Eddie had put some thought into it, and the drawings Lua had made to the best of her ability made you want to keep this letter forever.

Which you did, you folded neatly, letting it rest on your bedside table, before you found a place in your wall to hang it on.

You walked back up. The cup let out a clicking sound when the little spoon made contact with it, once you set it down into the floor.

You sat on the little steps, writing on your little pad that was pressed against your thighs, a response that was just as grandiose as the ask had been.

It read:

“Princess is more than happy to accept her Duchess Lua Munson invitation, and would like to know at what time she’s expected to arrive at her delightful trailer for the outing. Princess would like to inform Lady Munson that she’s excited to see her, and will make a treat for the picnic.”

You decided to leave a little red kiss as your signature. A little present that Eddie will cherish for a longer time that you had thought.

A stupid thought crossed your brain -more than a thought, an image- the two letters resting side by side, the paper now turning yellow, framed on a wall that the both of you share, Lua’s older now, maybe not the only daughter.

You had to shake your head, so you wouldn’t get too caught into the dream, snap back into reality.

Maybe it was stupid, or a bit childish but you were excited nonetheless. You switched your jeans for a flowy white sundress, the skirt reached your knees, the fabric had a faded small flower print all over. It was girly, but it was also spring, and for once, you didn’t care.

Your hair was free of any ponytails, or buns or anything like that, and it felt good to let it fall down, being so used to pushing it away from your face when you were working.

Eddie was a bit lost in you, not really focusing on what he should.

Lua was holding your hand, and you both were walking in front of him. He was holding the bags with the food and everything you had prepared -with the added things he already had- and he let himself be lost onto the fantasy.

Lua was telling you about the book he had just started reading for her as a bedtime story, and you kept asking questions, and she yapped in her mumbling voice as much and as excitedly as she could. He saw himself in her in those moments, when her tongue moved faster than her brain and she’d choke on her own words. Her free hand swanged in the air, and when she got caught on a word, she touched it, as a way to comfort herself. Eddie was starting to struggle to not tell you right there how he was feeling. How he was starting to get those scary big feelings. How he could actually see a life with you in it.

Eddie didn’t want to scare you.

So when you got close enough to the Lover’s Lake, and while you and Lua looked around for some spring flowers, he set the cloth down, the little sandwiches he had made on one side, chips for Lua, and a bit of cheese that you liked on the left side. The sponge cake you baked, and the rest of your -half eaten- chocolate bar on the right side. He got the drinks, begging you not to spend more things.

He got a thermos of your favourite tea -he had finally learned how to make it and was eager to see your reaction- water and chocolate milk for Lua, and soda for him. Though deep down he knew he’d end up drinking your tea.

He opened his arms as soon as he saw Lua running to him, her arms opened, her fist holding tightly to the wildflowers she had picked, you followed her closely, your laughter filling the air in his lungs.

You kept laughing, everytime Eddie found something new to do, just so he could hear you. And in consequence, Lua chuckled along. From afar, it already looked out of a picture book, but what he couldn’t quite understand is how it felt like it too.

“Dada?” Lua asked, once she had finished her piece of cake, spinning around so she could look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Can you braid?” She pointed at her hair, a question he had to avoid a bit too often.

“Bug, I’m rubbish at it, you know it.” He tried to plead with her, once again his voice gave in, breaking a bit. He had a tendency to do that when he had to tell her no, as if it would soften the blow.

“Please?” She asked again, her eyebrows raising just like he did when he was asking for something he deeply wanted. You had seen that look when he didn’t want you to leave, or he wanted another kiss. With a soft giggle, you looked at the little scene, hoping to not intrude too much.

“I can, if uh… if that’s okay.” Lua cheered and sat on your lap before you even knew if it was okay or not.

You knew it was, Eddie had that thank you look on his face.

He decided to do what he actually had learned, way back when he wasn’t living here, back when his mother lived. He knotted some of the wildflowers together, concertraing enough on it that his tongue covered his top lip, hearing his mother's voice singing low one to the top and knot over and over in his head.

For once it wasn’t a painful memory.

Rather a joyful one.

Now it was his two little princesses and his mother’s voice.

He placed it on top of your head, a kiss on your temple following it shortly after.

“What’d you do?” You asked, touching your head with care.

“Your crown, you needed one.” He points out, Lua’s eyes widened as she saw it.

“No braid but yes crown?” She asked, not really believing the ability his dad had been hiding from her.

“You know what we can do?” You asked her, trying to distract them both from the way your blood rushed to your cheeks. “Look.” You whispered it to her, as if it were a secret you both shared.

You started grabbing the wildflowers that were scattered around the cloth, placing the stems in between the knots of her braids, small flowers blooming from her hair. As soon as Lua realised what you did, her hand touching it with as much care as she could gather she started screeching from laughter, a type of laugh that not only warmed you, but Eddie as well.

She kind of jumped, though it felt more like a push, to your arms, screaming thank you repetitively, her excitement evident in her tone and gesture.

Eddie just looked at the both of you, his little dream -much similar to yours, even if you didn’t know- nearing the reality right in front of him.

You whispered to him, still holding Lua close to you “You’re full of surprises, huh?”

“Anything for my girls.” The sincerity in which he said it made you blush, the widest smile on your face as you shook your head at him.

“Idiot” You mouthed, no actual sound coming from you, careful that she wouldn’t hear a bad word.

He inched closer to you, leaving a kiss on the highest point of your cheek, right next to your ear.

“Hopefully yours.” He whispered.

A promise he intended to keep.

requests! are open

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n @sunshineandwitchery @supernaturalstilinski @womencriedpower @saramelaniemoon @cultish-corner @babyloutattoo89 @witchwolflea @serenadingtigers @readergf @guineveresghost @saramelaniemoon @angel-upon

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dcbbw · 1 year ago

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Sunday Sneak Peek: The "Bueller, Bueller?" Edition

It feels as if it has been FOREVER since I have written and/or posted anything of substance or significance. I have so many unfinished WIPs, storylines, and ideas on my laptop and trapped in my brain, but my focus, attention, and energies are all being directed towards IRL events and situations at the moment, and I honestly have no idea when I will have the time and motivation to devote to writing the way I once did.

However, I managed to get some words to keyboard and wanted to share (and gauge interest in) a couple of UnRomance WIPs I’m toying with. Both are follow-ups that NO ONE asked for:

One is for the original ending where Riley actually calls “Stop!” and leaves Liam. The second is a follow-up for the fandom ending where Liam and Riley are married and have Baby Eleanor, and a son on the way.

Not sure if anyone would want to see these come to fruition given I have so many other WIPs folks have expressed interest in (and your patience is both admirable and appreciated beyond measure!), but it’s all I got today.

As usual, everything is in a state of rough draft, and final version may vary. They are both below the cut, and I hope you enjoy them!

Pairing: Liam x Riley (it ain't Cordonia!)

Rating: M for Mature

Single

November (Liam)

It is the Wednesday before Thanksgiving; I have broccoli, cheese, and shredded chicken bisque simmering in the slow cooker that I’ll pair with curried rice and buttermilk biscuits. Eventually. I place a cut-crystal glass filled with cognac on the kitchen counter so I can give the soup a quick stir. Upon hearing my doorbell chime, I glance briefly at the wall clock; my company is early, but not by much.

I open the front door, a practiced smile on my face. “Thank you for meeting me here.”

Elizabeth gives a quick grin as she steps inside. “I was glad to hear from you,” she responds as I gently spin her around to remove a stylish, if dated, gray wool coat from her shoulders. I hang her coat and purse on the coatrack and guide her down the hall.

Her blue eyes take in the pictures hanging on the hallway walls, and when I lead her to the living room, her expression is one of wonder as she sees the enviable view through the wall of windows. She looks at me briefly over her shoulder before looking back out at the East River, Manhattan, and the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Is this your place, John?”

I shake my head slightly. “It belongs to a friend.”

I gesture to the sofa. “Have a seat, I’ll be with you momentarily. Drink?”

“Wine, please.”

I notice that she is sitting as if posing for a portrait. “Relax,” I instruct in a gentle tone. “It’s the same arrangement as usual, just a different location. Please, make yourself at home.”

I return with the requested drink, and my eyes take in her appearance. Elizabeth looks as If she’s dressed for either a funeral or a job interview: gray polyester blouse, black pencil skirt with a modest split in the back; black pantyhose and black pumps complete the ensemble.

I settle next to her on the sofa; she sips at the vino slowly, almost cautiously. She smacks her red-tinted lips a little too loudly as she nods approvingly. “That’s good wine,” she declares.

As she sips more, my fingertips brush loose tendrils of blonde strands away from her forehead before trailing down her cheekbone and jawline. She looks at me, her eyes filled with question and desire.

My fingers wrap around her wrist, and I softly tug at it to lead her hand to my still-clothed manhood. Elizabeth seductively licks her lower lip, the tip of her tongue a pale pink. She places her goblet on one of the coffee table’s coasters before flattening her palm against me.

She presses her other palm against my shirt-covered chest while her lips ghost kisses along the side of my neck. Her fingertips walk down my chest, towards my torso. I push her away slightly.

“Stand up and strip for me,” I instruct in a husky tone. “It would mean a lot to me if you were to do that.”

She hesitates for a moment before slowly nodding in agreement.

“Good,” I say as I rise; I need my drink from the kitchen. “Be right back. Stand in front of the windows. I’ll give you $100 for each piece of clothing you remove but keep your heels on.”

When I return, I have my glass and the bottle of brandy; I settle back on the sofa, pour myself a refill, and get ready to watch the show.

Domestic

My eyes open slowly, greeted by complete darkness. The blackout curtains covering the bedroom windows effectively block any and all illumination. However, they do not muffle the sound of heavy rain falling upon the city. The remnants of a tropical storm moved in overnight and are expected to last through the day.

Riley is asleep; her breathing is deep and even, occasionally interrupted by a soft snore. Her back is to me, plump ass cheeks pressing against my naked skin. My arms tighten around her waist, and her scent, commingled with yesterday’s fragrances waft elusively past my nostrils. I toss my leg over her thigh as I nuzzle her neck and breathe deeply. The faint smells of fruity shampoo, sleep, powder, and Oscar de la Renta perfume are a heady mixture before sunrise.

The side of my left thumb flicks against one of her nipples; I feel the ridged flesh grow erect under my ministrations. My right index finger plays with her clit before my dick slides into her waiting entrance. After a few strokes, she moans my name in a voice heavy with slumber. Her hips undulate as we rock back and forth together slowly, quietly; I bite my tongue as I fist her hair. My strokes become faster and rougher, her moans grow louder. I clap my palm against her mouth and hiss in her ear to be quiet.

The children are sleeping.

It doesn’t take long for her orgasm to wash over my dick, or my seed to fill her. I pull out of her and let my head fall back onto my pillows. After my breathing slows, I sit up and stifle a loud yawn as my arms stretch towards the ceiling. I make my way to the master bathroom where the wall clock informs me that it’s two hours until sunrise.

I empty my bladder, wash my hands, and pull on my pajama bottoms before donning an ankle-length black silk robe. I run a comb hastily through my tousled locks and shove my feet into bedroom slippers before leaving the room.

My glance falls onto Riley, who is asleep again. She doesn’t stir as I exit the room to make my rounds and check on my family.

I take care of them.

Seven years of marriage, and I have no complaints. Riley has been a good wife; she is still submissive to only me, still in need of and seeking my guidance, and still aggravatingly disobedient.

She loves me, she loves our children more. Riley still works, but not for Independence Publishing and Lynn. Lynn sold the business to focus on her family when her husband’s business became hugely successful. My wife now works for a freelance art gallery in Soho called Standalone; she’s the Procurement and Assets Manager.

I’ve been a good husband: I’m attentive. I’ve never cheated on her, never hit her in anger or abuse, home every night. I am a good provider, both giving her and maintaining a lifestyle she has grown quite accustomed to. She can quit her job anytime she wants and not have a financial care in the world.

We share equally in parenting our children, and I am a present and engaged father. A housekeeper comes in three times a week to help us manage the cleaning and upkeep of our home. I do all the cooking, although Riley has finally learned how to cook scrambled eggs, spinach, and how not to burn toast.

She’s so proud of herself.

Tagging (let me know if you want on or off):

@jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations

#dcbbw writes #wips #liam x riley #unromance au #writer on tumblr

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leam1983 · 1 year ago

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Bolster

Shift's over, it's the dogpile, yadda yadda.

Walt practically crushes me against him, and I need a second to realize what's going on. He wants me on top, but he doesn't seem particularly primed, if you catch my drift. I send him a quizzical glance.

"Just get up there, sport," he says. "You're recovering, but a little Baby Treatment won't harm, I think."

What he calls the Baby Treatment is my straddling his belly and lying on his chest, the way some fathers sometimes rest their kids on their belly while resting. Soon enough one arm is bracing my legs and the other arm is across my back, with my head pressing against one of his cheeks.

I follow his instructions: I give in, slow down, give him my weight, follow his own breath. I feel it deepen, feel him sink down at his usual pace - of which I'll forever be jealous. I'm still kicking thoughts around that his jaw's already hanging, the first of a few snores almost timidly leaving him. He comes back to something approaching wakefulness a few minutes later, but doesn't open his eyes. He tunelessly hums for a few moments, having freed one hand to stroke Sarah's forearm.

I sink. I barely have time to worry about staining Walt's vest or his necktie with my drool that all thought leaves me. By my reckoning, I wake up mere moments later. By the sky's, dusk has fallen. We're getting closer to 9 PM than anything else, and we skipped our dinner times. Walt's managed to sink too, sans CPAP, and I have to thank happenstance for the fact that my parents are already asleep on the other side of our shared wall. I also don't need much to realize that I've effectively slobberd all over Walt's neckline. Eventually, my stirring awake wakes him up.

"Sorry about your shirt," I say, feeling my voice fray before I realize what's going on. His endeared grumble is the gut punch I didn't know I needed, and I start sobbing the last few days' worth of exhaustion out of my system. Walt immediately connects the dots and strokes my back.

People think effusion refers to desperate declarations, but in that moment, there's nothing sweeter or more possibly loving than Walt massaging my back with one hand while keeping his voice in his registry's lower ends.

I'm fine, he says. I'm okay. I'm safe, warm and loved. I can cry as much as I need to. And boy howdy, do I need to.

Wisely, Walt doesn't offer solutions in the immediate. He lets me cry, quietly soothes me, waits for the waterworks to dry and tolerates the mess I'm making on his favourite vest and shirt. It's weird, really - being exhausted is exhausting.

Then, softly, like a lover's promise:

"I'm cutting your hours and finishing on four o' clock starting this Monday. I'll also start booking interviews for people that could help you with your Pixie plan. Am I saying it right?"

I laugh and sniffle. "Its PXE Boot, but close enough. It means letting a remote server handle all Windows deployments. What are we going to do from four to six?"

Walt silently chuckles, his mass shaking underneath me. "Hopefully nothing. We're made for this, you and I. Chainsaw noises, drool, daytime naps... This is better than sex, honestly."

My rational brain catches up. "If you're slashing my hours, my pay's going down, right?"

Another tiny earthquake shakes me. "I'll, uh, forget to remove that extra hour from your paycheck. Every week."

I sigh, bringing up nepotism as a logical negative. He grumbles, bringing up nepotism as a positive.

"Plus, I'm the CEO," he then jokes. "What I say goes, and I say you deserve to be compensated for one hour per weekday spent gracing your employer's generous frame."

I laugh. "You mean ample."

He smiles. "No, Rubenesque."

"Try for Fernando Botero, instead. You're like one of his well-dressed beach balls."

We kiss. "Call me Wilson," he jokes. I'm, uh, nowhere near sticking a bloody handprint on his face, honestly.

We kiss again. God, I wish that were it. No job, no logistics - just this.

"Tell me I'm safe, again."

He does.

"Tell me I'm warm."

He does.

"Tell me I'm loved."

He slowly, gently crushes me against him. "The only two persons I know who could be loved as much as you are - you're living with."

And then he farts - his fattouche salad coming through at the worst possible moment. The mood being killed so effectively is beyond hilarious to me.

God, I love this big lug so much.

Happy weekend, folks.

#life post #long post

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untaemedqueen · 4 years ago

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Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 32 (Final Chapter).

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Daddy Kink, Degradation, Hand Job, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Pregnant Sex, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Begging, Praise, Spanking

A/N: This is the FINAL, FINAL chapter.... Wah, can you believe it? This is so crazy! I'm so so happy that everyone has enjoyed Third Wheeling so much! Thank you to my forevers @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia and @ppersonna for being behind me on everything about this series

The sharp whistle that Yoongi chirps, bleeds through the living room of the mansion.

His two year old son turns to him with round, curious eyes. His small hand is outstretched trying to pick up the million dollar vase you have on display on the coffee table.

"What're you doing, my little troublemaker?" Yoongi murmurs, wrapping his arms around his son and throwing him up in the air.

Honggi squeals loudly, curling his arms around his father's neck like needy vines.

"Maya, please move that vase before Y/N has a fit." Yoongi whispers to the woman he's always admired.

"Yes, Sir." she giggles.

"Dada," Honggi squeals into his neck and Yoongi's heart clenches at the sound.

"Yes, bud?" he inquires, tilting his head to look down at his son.

"Hungry." his son breathes.

"Mommy's making food, let's go see." Yoongi chirps, running his large hand over his son's small back.

Taking in the new mansion, Yoongi is really happy with it.

He didn't bring over a special architect from Greece, he didn't fawn over the marble this time around. He let you pick the house.

And like always, you're incredible.

The house isn't particularly gaudy like the last one which he shared with his ex-wife. It's warm wooden interior and gray and white furnishings scream home. And that's what Yoongi always needed -- a home.

Although, anywhere with you is home, he's noticed.

The wings that spread out far and wide throughout the house have pieces of art that make Yoongi feel comforted and he's astounded everyday by how thoughtful you are.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and it rips your husband out of his daydream.

"Uh oh, here comes trouble." you sing, slinging your towel over your shoulder.

You extend your arms over the quartz island for your son and Yoongi is incredibly cautious.

"Be careful, please," he begs.

You give him a sweet nod, accepting your son into your arms and Honggi leans over the pot curiously.

"Cow?" he asks and you snort loudly.

"Yes, beef." you reply, wiping his chin with your thumb.

"B-Beef," he repeats and Yoongi beams.

Honggi isn't one to stay in anyone's arms for long, despite how much he adored being held as a newborn. He wriggles almost immediately to get down and Yoongi takes a sharp breath between his teeth cautiously.

"Watch mommy's belly, please." he yelps, setting your son on the floor.

"Jesus," he bleats, kissing your cheek.

"It's okay," you promise him, bending down to fix your son's black hair.

Honggi hugs your neck tightly, kissing your cheek so sweetly that it turns you into a puddle of love.

"What should we name your brother and sister?" Yoongi inquires of your son as he leans both elbows down on the island.

He pops a grape in his mouth, looking at his kid expectantly.

"Pororo... Poby!" Honggi giggles, swaying back and forth.

"Oh yeah, good idea! We can name them after penguins!" Yoongi teases, giving his son a grape.

"Poby is a polar bear." you inform him, stirring the stew.

"Yeah daddy! Bear!" Honggi scoffs, tugging on Yoongi's pants playfully.

"Oh, I'm sorry daddy doesn't know what anthropomorphic animals his son watches while he's at work." your husband murmurs.

"An-Anth-Anthr… Animals!" Honggi gasps and you laugh gently.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, allowing the comfort of being surrounded by his family to enrapture him.

He steps behind you, wrapping his arms around you and your growing stomach.

"I missed you today, little dove." he breathes, kissing your temple.

"You miss me everyday," you state, turning around in his grasp.

"That's true. Because I love you." he coos, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

"I love you too," you giggle, accepting the kiss he gives you.

Since Yoongi became a father he's learned so many things like patience and showing love to his child, the likes of which his younger self never got to see. He wants to give his family the entire world if he can, he wants to give all of you everything you could possibly desire because it was so terribly lacking when he was a kid.

"Dinner isn't going to be ready for a bit." you tell your family.

"But I'm hungry now!" Honggi cries, throwing his head back in a dramatic two year old fashion that both of his parent's laugh at.

"Okay. We'll have yogurt and go play with the Gaesu until Mommy is done cooking." Yoongi announces, picking up his son and slinging him over his shoulder.

"I love you mommy!" Honggi squeals.

"I love you too, bub." you reply, kissing his forehead.

"Give mommy's belly a kiss before we go." your husband instructs, patting his son's backside.

Honggi kisses your growing stomach and you can only snort at your husband's silliness.

"Okay. Now dada!" your son says, clapping.

The CEO kisses your stomach and then your forehead.

"You're gonna wrinkle your suit." you chide him, leaning back against the counter.

"So worth it." he retorts, giving you a gummy smile.

Two years have flown by in the blink of an eye.

There has, of course, been hard work that's been poured into your marriage whether it be for Honggi or just to be able to spend time together but the honeymoon phase has never truly died down.

You bask in each other's company like lizards under the hot sun.

You thrive when you're both together.

It's fate, really.

"He's asleep," Yoongi announces, stepping into your bedroom.

"Oh, nice. It only took two hours instead of three like yesterday." you know you sound sarcastic but it's really true. Honggi never seems to be able to sleep when he needs to, he's hyperactive in waves and thoroughly enjoys spending time with his father.

"Well tonight we read the big bad wolf and then he got scared so I had to calm him down and stay with him until he finally fell asleep." your husband rambles, peeling off his clothes.

You hum in agreement, sitting up gently.

Yoongi's tattoo of the large family tree on his bicep seems to shine in the dull lights of the room and it makes a smile spread over your face.

"How are my other babies?" he inquires, laying down beside you on the bed.

It's no secret that you adored your son and it's no secret that Yoongi wanted you pregnant almost immediately after Honggi was born. He missed your big belly and the closeness it brought the both of you when you were pregnant. But after Honggi was born, your paintings were flying off the art exhibit walls like hot cakes and you needed time to create new works of art.

While your husband had his tantrums and gripes about it, he understood. Being pregnant is difficult and he knows that, so when you told him he had to wait, he begrudgingly accepted it.

Your art was on hold now, with over two hundred pieces out in the world at any given second, you decided to focus on family.

"They're okay," you promise, running your fingers through your hair.

You can remember when you found out you were pregnant again for the second time. All of your symptoms hit so much harder than the first pregnancy.

"Baby? We gotta go. We're gonna be late." Yoongi calls, peeking into the bathroom.

He didn't expect to find you heaving over the toilet but when he does, two things happen simultaneously. There's a sharp bout of worry and a thinner vein of excitement that spread through his bones.

"What's the matter, my dove? You feel sick?" he pouts, entering the bathroom to rub at your back.

You shiver gently, waving your hand to the large gray cabinets beneath your sinks.

"I'm not a mime, I'm sorry." your husband whispers, raising an eyebrow.

"Pr-Pregnancy test," you plead.

He could just about pass out and die from happiness from those two words.

"Really?! You think so?!" he beams, ripping open the doors and tearing open the cardboard box like some sort of rabid animal.

His hands are shaky when he gives you the test and he helps you off of your knees immediately.

His thumbs rub at the tile indentations on your kneecaps and like always he stares up at you like you hang the moon on a string for him each and every night.

"I'm sorry we're late." you whisper, blotting your mouth with toilet paper.

"This is way more important. Fuck that. Jeongguk can wait." Yoongi avows, watching you cap the pregnancy test.

"We probably aren't even going to make it there anyway," your husband breathes.

"Why not?" you inquire, standing up and smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

The CEO wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. "Because if you are pregnant, I'm gonna have to do some celebratory stuff."

You laugh aloud, running your fingers over his arms. "Stuff like what?"

"Like eating your pretty pregnant pussy and fucking your pregnant cunt." he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver at his words, glancing down at the test.

You hope you are pregnant. There's something insane in women's brains which makes them forget just how painful childbirth is so they can always look forward to more.

But the euphoric feeling of having a baby is well worth the pain, that's something you'll always remember.

"God, I think you are pregnant." he hisses, running his hands over your sides.

"Why do you say that?" you ask, tilting your head to look at him.

"You just feel different in my hands."

"I think you're crazy," you retort with a laugh.

"Why?!" he gasps.

"Because you didn't say anything yesterday when we… y'know."

"When we fucked?" he goads, kissing you softly.

You hum in agreement against his lips and he snorts softly.

"You did feel warmer around me." he announces, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

"It should be ready." you inform him, both of your eyes glued to the face down stick.

"Go on, show me that my baby is in you." he urges, kissing your temple.

Your heart races and your fingers begin to shake as you flip over the stick.

Yoongi holds his breath and you find yourself doing the same.

When you flip it over, the plus sign screams at you and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief.

Your husband groans happily, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

"Thank you baby, thank you!" he cheers.

When he sets you down on the ground, you can't help the thrilled giggle that seeps from you.

"Should we head out?" you ask your husband softly.

The scoff he gives only seems right. "Yeah, right. I have more important things to celebrate than a boxing match."

You can only squeal when he scoops you up bridal style.

Putting his head on your shoulder, your husband takes a deep, calming breath.

His fingertips dance over your distended skin and his lips traipse over your exposed collarbone.

"You're so gorgeous," he breathes, letting his eyes flutter shut.

The smirk that spreads over your face is goofy and flushed, sometimes you find it astounding that he can even be so sweet with you.

There's a tiny kick beneath his fingertips that makes his head lift off of your body.

"What are you up to in there, guys? Fighting or something?" he gawks, feeling another flurry of taps below his hand.

"They don't have enough room," you announce, lolling your head back to the pillow.

"Well, just four more months and you won't have to be cramped anymore." Yoongi promises, sliding down the bed to kiss your belly.

"We should sleep, we have plans for tomorrow."

"Caleb's first birthday party." Yoongi remembers, drifting his lips over your skin.

You nod in agreement, tucking your hand beneath your head to get comfy.

Your husband knows just how difficult it is for a woman with a set of twins inside of her to fall asleep and he's nothing if not doting.

"Lemme put my babies to sleep," he murmurs, sliding his fingers over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

It's fascinating how the Kisung CEO can make you feel as if black coffee pumps through your veins even when you're completely exhausted.

He watches you avidly, making sure this is something you're up for. When your nipples begin to pebble and strain under the flimsy nightgown that can barely contain your swollen flesh, Yoongi knows he's got the green light.

His eyelids lower with lustful intentions and the tip of his tongue glides slowly over his plump bottom lip.

He knows you're excited for anything and everything when your hips lift expectantly.

Clicking his teeth, he pushes your body back down to the bed. "Easy now, little dove. You should know who's in charge here, baby."

Your whimper sounds like the most earnest plea as it passes through your parted lips and Yoongi can feel his cock straining against his briefs for some semblance of relief.

He kisses at your clothed pussy, already feeling how sodden the material is getting in a matter of seconds.

It continues to astound him, two years in, how willing your body is for him.

"Daddy," you breathe softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

His hands caress whatever he can find whether it be your thighs, your belly, your breasts.

"Wet little slut for me." he murmurs, tugging your panties off with his teeth.

You're quick to discard your nightgown, wanting nothing more to be touched anywhere you can get it.

Your husband hums at the sight of your core, pussy lips puffy and swollen with greedy intentions and slick with arousal.

"There she is," he breathes, kissing over your belly.

Palming your breasts in hand, you understand why he's taking so long -- to drive you insane.

He wants euphoria and adrenaline to course through you like wildfire so when it ebbs away, you'll be completely exhausted.

"My beautiful dove." Yoongi professes, spreading your legs wider.

Your eyes are glued to his abs, the way the muscles contort and constrict with each shallow breath he breathes.

You can thank each and every god everyday for the man you're married to.

You know the hierarchy in this bedroom, it rarely ends up with you on top, but the temptation of his thick, hard cock straining against his Balenciaga briefs has you throwing all cares to the wind.

He hisses gently against your distended skin when you cup his long length with your hand.

Yoongi will be the first to admit that he's missed this. He's been sweet and caring, not wanting to trouble you for sex with you being as huge as you are. He knows two babies are way more difficult than just Honggi. But, he needs you. In every single way.

"Play nice, my dove." he chides you softly, kissing up your belly to your swollen breasts.

You don't heed his words, tugging down the band of his briefs and swallowing thickly when his large cock bobs in the air before smacking up to his toned honey stomach.

His eyes flutter shut at the feeling and you know you've neglected him for too long. His cock is throbbing and needy as sin, beads of precum endlessly spurting from the top and slowly traipsing down the head.

"Baby girl," he gasps when you pump his cock in hand.

Yoongi kisses over your puffy nipples, scoffing at the pleasure that vibrates through him with each jerk.

He coos softly when you bead milk for him and his eyes snap to yours. "You didn't tell me your milk came in."

"I-I didn't know," you chirp, pumping his cock harder.

He shivers then, wrapping his lips around your peaked nub and tugging softly. He groans happily at the distantly familiar taste of your milk and his needy hands grip and massage your thighs as he situates himself further between them.

"Daddy, fuck!" you cry out gently, arching your back.

The tip of your husband's tongue is quick against your sensitive skin and you can only whimper for more.

Your shaking thumb runs circles over the swollen, red mushroom head of his cock and he gasps above you, pressing his forehead into your breast.

"Ba-Baby, this is about you. Please," he begs, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

You give a smirk, feeling high and mighty at how quickly you can break him down to a mere lustful animal.

Your free hand rubs circles to your stomach and he can just about cum at the sight of you.

His cock throbs wildly and he forces your hand off of him with narrowed eyes. "Behave, little dove. I won't say it again."

You hide your smirk, laying back down for him.

He eyes you wearily for a second before continuing his dissent on your body. His fingers caress over your sodden lower lips and his name tumbles from your mouth with a quickness.

"You're messy." he prods, spreading your lips with his fingers and tapping your throbbing bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers.

Your body jolts, bottom lip tucking between your teeth.

God, you've missed this.

You've missed him doting on you so eagerly.

Yoongi continues to take his time, enjoying how your entrance clenches around nothing.

You're a needy little thing and you're all his. The way it should be.

"Daddy, please!" you beg, rubbing circles over your distended skin.

"What's wrong, beautiful? You're too much of a slut to enjoy this? You want gratification now?" he quips, lowering his head to your core.

You can't even see him over your belly and it drives you absolutely mad. You can feel the puffs of hot, needy breath that pass his lips but it does nothing but earn more dripping arousal from your center.

"Such a pretty pussy you have," he purrs, suckling your swollen lips.

You gasp loudly, screwing your eyes shut.

He plays with your entrance, swirling the tip of his index finger around it until your racking with sobs above him.

Yoongi presses the tip of his tongue to your throbbing clit and he groans gently at the feeling.

"Shhh, my dove. Daddy is going to take care of you, I promise." he avows, lapping at your nub with slow strokes.

It's so pleasurable, but it's not enough. You're on the precipice and he keeps you there for what feels like eternity.

"God! Daddy, please!" you beg, bunching your hands up in his hair and tugging.

He hums in fake confusion, adoring how your body shakes before him.

He's good at the long game.

He thrives in it.

When he slips two fingers inside of your slick cunt, you're about ready to burst but he pulls away from your core with a devilish smirk.

"My pregnant wife is so needy," he jeers, curling his fingers with ease to the soft patch of nerves within you.

Your chest constricts, heaving for breath. Your skin develops a thin sheen of sweat and you feel yourself possibly going insane within his grasp.

Picking his face up between the apex of your thighs, the sight of his soaked chin and cheeks hurdles you to the precipice.

"Wanna cum, need to cum!" you chant, cupping your belly while you grind yourself down onto his fingers.

"You hold it," he orders sweetly.

You can only scoff and the animalistic pride within you snaps.

You sit up, as quickly as you can, before pushing him down on the bed.

"Baby," he warns you, pulling his fingers from your heat and entering them into his mouth.

"I need it!" you whine, straddling him.

His hands immediately hold your hips to protect you from any imminent danger you might face. He goes to chide you but when your soaked cunt glides against his hard, thick length, he can only take a sharp breath between his teeth.

"I missed your cock Daddy, I missed it so much," you whine, rocking your hips.

"Oh Christ," he murmurs, gliding his hands from your hips to the globes of your ass.

With every rock of your hips, your clit thrums pleasantly at the feeling of the head of his cock prodding against the bundle of nerves.

Your shaky hands grip at your breasts, swiping your thumbs against your leaking nipples until your sobbing with pleasure.

"You're so gorgeous, fuck," Yoongi curses, enraptured with the sight above him.

Your eyebrows furrow and you're losing yourself in the pleasure as your mouth drops open.

His hands knead at the supple flesh of your backside before rearing back and spanking you with a fierceness that you adore.

"Yes, more!" you gasp, sitting up and positioning his cock at your entrance.

"You're a little cock slut, you know that?" he seethes, leaning up on his elbows to kiss at your belly.

"Your cock slut, Daddy. I'm yours," you whimper, slowly sitting down on his length.

His mouth opens at the euphoric feeling of your warm, wet cunt sliding down on him and he can only fall back to the bed with a heady thump.

"Shit," he breathes out, looking up at you like you give him the universe.

You do.

You give him everything and anything that exceeds his expectations.

You take a second to adjust to his length, preening as the head of his cock prods against your soft cervix.

"Good girl, little dove." he bleats, running his fingertips over your outer thighs.

Yoongi can see the way you swallow thickly and he can tell how fucked out you already are with your eyelids being as heavy as they are and pride blooms in his chest.

"Want you to suckle," you beg, palming your breasts.

He can only scoff at the arousing thought, he's up in a flash, minding your stomach. His lips pluck and suckle at your sensitive skin until you're shaking like a leaf under his ministrations.

"Your cock feels so big in my pussy, feels so good," you purr, rocking your hips.

He moans against your breast, gripping your hips with needy hands.

The rhythm you set as he suckles from you is slow but the impending orgasm you've been denied comes back in waves. The head of his cock taps against the sweet spot inside of you with each jolt of your hips and you're losing your grasp on reality.

"D-Daddy!" you gasp, letting your brain free of any thoughts besides just how pleasurable he feels inside of you.

"That's it, baby girl. Take it. Take what you need from me." he announces, laying back down.

Your hands push down on his chest as you begin to pick up speed and he can only cry out your name like a man possessed.

"Jesus, just like that, little dove. Fuck!" he curses, spanking the globes of your ass until your skin is smarting.

Then you feel the precipice again, you feel yourself teetering.

Your mouth opens to give a silent scream and your eyes well up with tears.

He coos softly, running his fingers through his hair as if the pleasure he's receiving is truly unbelievable.

You groan loudly, pressing your hands beneath your stomach. "I'm-I'm-"

"Cum for me, little dove. I can feel how badly your cunt wants to milk my cock. Cum." he orders and your gasp echoes throughout the room.

Your hands rub comforting circles to your stomach while your hips rock at an unfound speed.

"Yoongi!" you cry, squeezing your eyes shut.

Then -- euphoria.

Your orgasm explodes within you like a million shards of glass. With deafened ears and tear streaked cheeks, you don't even feel your husband lay you down on your back.

He fucks his cock so deeply inside of you that it brings you back to reality in waves.

"God, you look so beautiful taking what's yours, baby." he coos, sitting up.

You can only cry out gently when his strokes become erratic and deeper.

"You want me to cum inside you? You want to drip with me?" he inquires, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You nod incessantly, spreading your legs wider when you feel his cock throb within you.

"Yeah? You want to be my little cum slut? Get so full of my cum when you're already pregnant with my babies?" he seethes through his teeth.

"Y-Yes, want to feel your cum so badly," you hiccup, running your hands over his chest.

His eyes screw shut when your hips meet his every stroke.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming. God, your cunt is incredible!" he whines.

His hips give one last thrust, burying himself as deeply as possible before the warmth of his cum floods through your battered core.

You hum happily, rubbing your belly.

"I love you," he whispers, bending down and planting a passionate kiss to your lips.

"I love you, too." you reply, hooking your hand around the back of his neck.

After cleaning you up and situating yourselves back to normal, Yoongi pulls your body to cuddle against his. His fingers drift over your bare back and he sighs happily.

You're out like a light in mere seconds when you finally get comfy and he can only chuckle at your shallow breaths.

His hand comes to rest beneath his head and he can't begin to express how lucky he feels.

His attention falters to your stomach when he feels a gentle prodding against his hip. He smirks, kissing the top of your forehead and closing his eyes.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and you know better now than to rush to him whenever he shouts for you.

"Yes, baby?" you call to him, fixing your earrings.

"Want to play with Yumi!" he calls, peeking into your bedroom.

"We're going to see Yumi now." you reply, turning to him.

Your eyebrow raises as you look at your husband's spitting image. "Where are your shoes?" you ask your two year old.

"Dada said I don't have to wear them!" he beams, rolling on the floor with your corgi.

"Oh yes you do, you're not going over to Aunt Leena's house with no shoes on." you reply.

When your husband steps into the doorway, he knows he's made a mistake. Just the look you give him makes him want to run and hide.

"What?" he bleats.

Min Yoongi is obsessed with giving his son whatever he wants. He's obsessed with spoiling him and sometimes you have to look like the bad guy.

"He needs to put on shoes." you tell your husband.

Both of your boys frown at you and it's almost so ridiculous that you can barely contain the eye roll.

"Why?" Honggi chirps.

When you place your hand on your stomach, Yoongi nods. "Mommy's right, you need to wear shoes."

He's quick to avoid chastisement today.

"But why, dada?" your son inquires.

You love the 'why' phase… when it's directed at your husband.

"Because your little feet are gonna be cold and because mommy said so. And what did I tell you about when mommy says something?" your husband whispers conspiratorially to your son.

"That you do it! Mama has two babies a-and mad isn't good for babies!" Honggi says, sticking up two small fingers.

You can only snort, shutting the bathroom light off and leaning against the door frame.

"That's right, bud. So let's get you some shoes."

When your husband goes to leave the room, he widens his eyes apologetically at you and you can't help but giggle.

"Silly," you mumble, grabbing your purse.

Caleb's first birthday is a huge deal.

You know how much work his mother put into it and you know that it needs to be over the top and perfect for her to be thriving and happy with the day's events.

"Miss Thing!" Leena gasps, throwing herself out of the door to hug you.

"Hi Beena," you giggle, wrapping your arms around her.

Taehyung is right behind her with a smile plastered on his face.

"Happy birthday Caleb!" you gasp, taking him from Taehyung's arms.

Yoongi kisses your best friend on the cheek before looking over at her one year old son.

"Hey buddy! Happy birthday!" your husband cheers, watching as Caleb tucks his face into your neck.

It's always astounding to see how much of a one eighty Leena has done when it comes to Taehyung and her family.

You remember how adamant she was on not getting pregnant and not getting married but then when you gave birth to Honggi -- she wanted that.

And you completely understood it.

Now that your best friend is married and having a family, you can see how content and happy she is. It's something you're really proud of.

"Everyone is in the backyard." Leena announces, fixing Caleb's small suit.

"Yumi?!" Honggi screeches, looking past Taehyung.

"Yeah, Yumi too." Leena's husband quips with a laugh.

Yoongi snorts, following after his son.

"Miss Thing, I have to tell you, I would have never in a million years thought we'd see him today." your best friend blurts, guiding you into her mansion.

"Who?" you inquire, handing Caleb back to his father.

Leena's hands clamp down on your shoulders and her eyes widen. "Jin."

"Shut the fuck up," you gasp, pulling her towards the backyard.

There are a multitude of people in the backyard but your eyes find his tall, handsome stature easily.

He's standing by the fountain with his wife by his side and he looks in his element.

It's been months since you've seen your other best friend.

You aren't really sure why he dropped off the face of the Earth. You know he's probably been busy, you all have been.

But you know Leena has taken it the hardest. Jin has always meant something deeply to her so when he didn't return phone calls or texts… you know it burned her.

It's almost as if he feels your eyes on him the way he turns to look at you.

He gives you a warm smile, immediately leaving his wife to make his way across the large backyard.

Yoongi notices how your eyes get glassy when he looks away from Honggi and Jimin's daughter, Yumi. "Jimin, watch him." he orders, leaving to comfort you.

Now, Yoongi doesn't hate Jin, by any means. He respects him and in all honesty, appreciates him for helping him in his dire time of need.

But the CEO will be damned if he doesn't coddle you, his pregnant wife, to his side when you're emotionally distraught.

Seokjin is wary when he sees your husband loop his hand around your hip protectively.

"Shhh," Yoongi coos, hearing your gentle sniffles.

Leena on the other hand, just folds her arms, widening her eyes expectantly at your best friend.

"Hey guys," he bleats, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"That's it? All we get is a 'hey guys' from you?" Leena scoffs.

Jin blushes furiously, cupping his whisky tighter in his hand. "What do you want me to say, Beena?"

"How about a sorry, Kim Seokjin? That'll be the start. Then you can veer off into how apologetic you are for pushing us into the background for her." Leena sneers, nodding her head to Sera.

You take in how nervous Jin is and you absolutely hate it. You hate how small he's making himself look.

"I am sorry." he agrees, grabbing for your hands.

"Maybe you guys should take this inside," Taehyung whispers, looking over the party guests who have stopped their conversations to look over at all of you.

Leena doesn't even give an answer, only trudging back into her mansion with narrowed eyes.

Taehyung clears his throat awkwardly, walking with his son towards Jimin and Anna.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yoongi inquires, brushing some hair back behind your ear.

You nod immediately, wanting the comfort of your husband with you.

"Alright, my love." he promises, kissing your temple.

Seokjin chases after Leena and you can only sigh at the impending yelling you're about to hear.

"Miss Thing, please sit." Leena gushes, pointing to the couch inside the library.

You take a seat, watching Jin wade back in forth nervously like he's waiting for a scolding.

"Did you know that Y/N is pregnant again? That she's having twins?" Leena spits.

"Yes, I did. I'm very happy for her and her husband." Seokjin replies, helping you sit down.

Yoongi pours himself a small glass of scotch, draping his arm over your shoulders.

"Do you fucking understand how sorely you've been missed?" Leena inquires to the handsome man as she sits down across from you.

Seokjin clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, I-I do."

"Then where have you been?" you prod, folding your arms.

Your best friend leans back against the large wooden desk. "Listen guys, I've missed you guys so deeply. I need you to know this, okay? I'm sorry that I've been absent from your kids and your lives. I've been dying to spend time with you all."

"Okay. Then where have you been?!" Leena yelps, repeating your question.

Jin takes a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter shut. "I've been trying to start my own family. It's not easy! I've been taking Sera all over the world to different doctors and hospitals to try and see why she can't get pregnant! I've been depressed and down on myself until recently. I'm fucking sorry I abandoned you guys but I needed time to heal my heart."

The news resounds in your ears and you cuddle closer to your husband who rubs your shoulder with his thumb soothingly.

The smugness is wiped off of Leena's face within a second.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she whispers softly.

Jin's fingers card through his hair and with a frustrated huff, he lolls his head back.

"Because it's…it's heartbreaking and not what I want to bring to the table when you guys have families and lives already. I don't want to burden you guys with my troubles." he mumbles, spinning his wedding band with his thumb.

You take a sharp breath between your teeth, standing with the help of your husband who urges you to be careful.

"Jin," you whisper, hugging him tightly.

He stiffens at your touch before wrapping his arms around you. He sobs gently, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"I did miss you guys, so much. I'm sorry," he cries loudly.

"You don't have to hide your feelings from us. You should feel comfortable to tell us anything and everything. I'm sorry if you didn't trust us enough with your worries." you murmur into his ear.

"No! I just… I was scared, I didn't want to trouble you both." he breathes, pulling away and cupping your face.

"Jinnie," Leena pouts, standing up and hugging the both of you.

"You're never a bother to us, don't ever think that." you coo, fixing his hair.

He takes a deep, calming breath, running his hands over your belly. "One of your kids is kicking me in the ribs." he mumbles.

You can only giggle, patting your eyes with a tissue.

"That's the least you deserve for not trusting us with your fears," Leena scolds him gently.

He nods, exhaling sharply until his cheeks are puffing out.

"So is she?" your best friend asks him.

"What?" he mumbles.

"Is she pregnant?" Leena inquires.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, tilting his head. "Something like that."

Your eyes drift slowly over the perfectly manicured lawn watching Honggi offer to share a toy truck with Yumi. His smile is the spitting image of Yoongi’s and it makes you sigh happily. You lean against the arm of the lawn chair, resting your hand against your cheek.

You can barely believe how happy you’ve become over the past two years.

Everything just falls into the right place, everything just fits like a perfect complete puzzle.

Honggi turns to you, flailing his hand wildly and you can only giggle. Waving back, your heart expands to the size of the universe.

Yoongi laughs at something loudly, drawing your attention. You watch him sling his arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and you can only snort at the sight.

You can remember when you never heard his laugh, you didn’t know what it sounded like for quite a while and then… once he began to laugh, it never seemed to end.

That’s something you revel in, your husband’s happiness is yours well.

It gives you great pride to see him beaming from ear to ear. And you don’t think it often but -- you got him here. You got him to this state of happiness.

It’s your best artwork, yet.

“Hey Y/N.”

You look away from your husband to the one person you’d never thought you’d speak to.

“Sera… hey,” you breathe, looking up at her flawless form.

“H-How are you?” she inquires, sipping her water nervously.

You haven’t seen here in two years. She looks good, that isn’t hard for her. Something about her seems calmer and more poised then when you knew her.

“Can I sit?” she asks gently, running her hand over the back of her neck.

“Please,” you insist, sitting up straighter.

You can feel eyes on you and you can only imagine who it is but you don’t dare look away from the actress before you.

While you weren’t her biggest fan, she’s made Jin happy over the past two years and you can’t fault her for that. He hasn’t loved anyone since Leena and you can see that his heart has bloomed since being with this woman.

“No drink?” you quip, pointing at her water.

“I thought, y’know, since my surrogate can’t drink then I shouldn’t either.” she shrugs.

You don’t know what to say if you’re being honest. It must be a sore subject…

“Yeah-” you breathe awkwardly.

“I’m not upset about it, we can talk about it.” she announces, putting her hand to your shoulder.

Sera in all the time you’ve known her has never touched you and you’re surprised at how normal it is, honestly.

“I’m sorry that you… y’know… you’ve had a difficult time.” you say honestly.

You can’t imagine how hard Sera and Jin have been trying, how many hospitals and specialists they’ve gone to, how much heartbreak they’ve gone through.

“At least I’m getting a baby at all, right? I always used to be so angry about the whole situation… Maybe that’s why I was so mean to you.” she admits, carding her fingers through her long, now blonde hair.

You hum thoughtfully, looking up at the dusky sky. “I mean it mustn't have been easy for you either. I came into Yoongi’s life and flipped it upside down. You were comfortable with the situation and I just spun things around like a top.”

“Well… yeah, true. But if you didn’t come into Yoongi’s life then I wouldn’t have been able to become a better person and find the person that’s right for me.” she avows, looking over at you.

Her words resound through you and your eyes widen just the slightest bit. She’s really different these days, huh?

“Well, I came over to say I’m sorry for treating you terribly the whole first time you were pregnant, it was in bad taste and I was so selfish back then that I couldn’t begin to understand how horrible that could be for you.”

“I accept your apology.” you reply, giving her a small smile.

She breathes a sigh of relief, letting her body go lax in the chair beside you. “Oh good, I was so nervous to talk to you. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack or something.” she gasps.

You find yourself giggling and she snorts softly.

“You’re kid is cute,” she comments, watching him run over to you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, widening your eyes at Honggi curiously as he stops in front of you.

“Mama!” he cheers, holding up his paint covered fingers.

“Yes, baby?” you murmur, pushing his hair back.

“I’m painter like you! Look!” he squeals, tugging your hand.

You look over at Sera apologetically, standing up to follow your son.

“It was nice to see you Sera, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” you call back to her.

She smiles warmly, giving you a gentle wave goodbye.

Jin could have done worse.

Lowering your head, you look at the picture that your son has painted. The fingerpaint is thick and blobbish but you can see a few distinct shapes that stick out to you.

You don’t say anything at first, letting him finish a few small details that he thinks are important. He gives you his gummy smile, seemingly proud of himself and it makes you smile too.

“It’s very nice, baby. I can see how much work you put into it.” you coo.

“It’s mama and dad, Honggi and baby!” he beams, picking up the picture which is almost too heavy for him with all the paint on it.

Your husband sweeps in beside you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek and taking the painting out of your hands.

“Mommy is having two babies, not just one.” Yoongi reminds him, pointing at your stomach.

Honggi nods fervently, opening and closing his small hands demanding the picture back from his father.

Your husband snorts gently, lowering the picture for his son. You can barely contain the ridiculous giggle that tries to escape you as he draws a black circle next the one already painted.

"Two!” he cheers, sticking up two of his paint covered fingers.

“Good job, bud.” Yoongi chuckles, kissing the top of his head.

“I saw that interaction. You okay?” your husband inquires softly into your ear.

You hum in agreement, wrapping your arm around his waist and laying your head down on his shoulder. “Better than okay,” you murmur, feeling his lips caress over the top of your head.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Yoongi inquires, pulling over the car.

You can’t help but laugh at his worried expression. “He’s fine,” you promise, putting your hand on his knee, “we can go out on a date without him around us all the time. Maya’s got it. Honggi loves her.”

He shuts off the engine, turning to you with a pout spread over his face. “I just miss him, I didn’t get to read him a bedtime story.”

Your heart is warm and you can’t help the giggle you give. “It’s our anniversary, besides it’s just for a few hours.”

He picks up your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Happy anniversary, little dove.”

“Happy anniversary, babe.” you reply, with a smile.

The inside of Magic Shop is pristine like always, you’re so surprised that Jin has kept it exactly the same as two years ago. He always loved to change things up but you realize that he probably got so busy since you’ve last been here, he probably hasn’t had time for anything.

The music is quieter than normal and there isn’t a soul in the club. Which makes you understand immediately that Yoongi rented the whole place out.

“You shouldn’t have,” you hiss, giving Hyun a small wave.

“Of course I should have, you deserve the world, baby. Plus, loud music isn’t good for the babies,” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

Your eyes immediately land on the black velvet curtain and the memories of first meeting Yoongi flood through you like water.

“Thanks,” your husband murmurs, grabbing a whisky from Hyun.

When you pull back the curtain, you can only smile at the same leather booth from that fated day.

“Jesus, it even smells the same in here.” Yoongi breathes, running his fingers over the top of the couch.

This room holds so many memories for you but nothing beats the one with your husband.

“God, it’s like it was yesterday. I can still remember that black dress you were wearing,” your husband chirps, sitting down in the same spot he did two years ago.

He pats his lap, setting down his whisky onto the floor and you’re absolutely gobsmacked by how much this feels like dejavu.

“I’m a little big,” you murmur, sitting down slowly.

“Never, you’re gorgeous, little dove.” Yoongi coos, wrapping his arms around you.

His warm hands caress your practically bare thighs and when he looks at you, you can see the sheer love and devotion in his eyes.

“My little dove,” he breathes, drifting his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

You can remember just how smoking hot you thought this man was, how intrigued you were by him in an instant. You remember every single second of your time in this back room. You remember every minute of your days when you found out you were pregnant and how absolutely scared you were.

You can remember his good times and his bad when he was working out his feelings about you.

Nothing has left your mind and you treasure each and every memory -- because they make up who you are. They make up your life.

And it’s perfect. Because you have him.

“You were a good girl that I wanted to break so badly,” your husband announces, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Well… you did that,” you quip, humming when he presses his face to the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, little dove, really. Thank you so much for loving me and giving me such a wonderful family,” Yoongi gasps.

“Thank you for opening up to me and showing me that our love could blossom into something as perfect as this.” you reply, running your fingertips over his arms.

When he lifts his head, you can see how glassy his eyes are with tears.

“God, I love you, little dove.” he whimpers.

“I love you too.” you reply, kissing him softly.

His lips are plush and soft against yours and you can feel the tears that careen down his cheeks until they’re soaking into your skin. He’s so gentle with you, drifting his hands from your back to your distended stomach.

“My wife,” he chuckles, capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “my beautiful, gorgeous, powerful wife who has given me enough love to last eons. I love you so much, little dove, it hurts me.”

There are one hundred and fifty eight ways to say ‘I love you.’ And, they all pertain to Min Yoongi.

He’s a gentle soul and a loving husband that holds high standing with billions of people worldwide. He is sweet, wonderful and a perfect man at the end of the day. And now, everyone sees this side to him.

In the media he is praised and renowned for being a fantastic father and an equally fantastic husband. And to you, nothing could ever be more true,

It was March 23rd, when you saw him and met him. You tasted the finest of liquors and smelt the smoke of the richest Cuban cigars.

It was March 23rd when your life had truly begun.

Third Wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykrueger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx, @bt21chim, @flowerboyhobi, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

#third wheeling #final chapter #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #ceo!yoongi #ceo!au #ceo!bts #min yoongi #yoongi smut #pregnant smut #bts fic

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hannahhasnofriends · 4 years ago

Text

two people one bed | dream

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summary: famous bed sharing trope!

pairing: dream x reader

warnings: swearing, fluff :)

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this fic was weird to write bc i normally write that the character calls him clay but with the setting it didn't seem right lmao – also psa, i have very little knowledge about constellations but i thought it was cute so i left it in lol

many members from the dsmp decided to take a road trip together (yes they clowned on dream the whole time)

it was a week long trip and it was finally the last day! you'd went cross country, stopping at a few different airbnbs along the way

and at this point, you were kind of over it😐don't get me wrong, it'd been an amazing trip, but you'd had little to no alone time in a week and you were just relieved to be going home after this

until you saw the last house, where someone had to share a bed.... and you and dream had just happened to pull out the two shortest straws…

‘Damn it.’ You mentally rolled your eyes, of course you’d end up the one to share a bed on the last day. You’d been driving all day and considering it was only one night, you had no mental energy to argue over sharing. Dream didn’t even seem phased at the fact, honestly you almost felt bad about how annoyed you were with everyone with how nice he’d been about it all. But he was always like this, he was always kind to you.

That was until you rolled over for the hundredth time that night. The space between the pillow wall you'd built and the edge of the bed was seeming to get smaller and smaller as the night went on. Even though the air was thick in the room, your feet were cold from Dream hogging the blanket and the bed would shake every few minutes from his constant movement. You could tell he was awake even though he was staying silent, and you tried your hardest not to let out an annoyed huff.

Finally, he shifted to peer over the pillow wall. In the dark you could still make out his green eyes and fluffy hair.

"You awake?" He whispered. You groaned internally, literally why does this man want to have a conversation now?

"No."

"Oh come on now, you can't say that and be asleep. I cant't sleep. We should do something." He shifted again so his forearms were leaning against the wall, basically destroying it.

"We are doing something. It's called trying to sleep so we can wake up at a good hour and go home." You sighed, screwing your eyes shut.

"It's only like 1 in the morning, we have plenty of time to sleep. Come on.. please, it'll be fun." Whatever, fine, maybe he'll actually calm the fuck down after this.

"Fine. What the hell can we even do right now." You opened your eyes up again, staring at the ceiling.

"We can go for a drive?" You can hear the smile in his voice. This man's love for driving was absurd.

"Uh how about no? We've literally been in the car all day and I'd rather not go back until we have to." You finally turned to face him, he wore a lopsided grin and a crooked pajama shirt. Cute.

"Fine, fine. How about we just go for a walk, yeah?" You grumbled, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and grabbing the hoodie you left on the floor. No way in hell were you changing for this, it was bad enough you were even indulging in it.

“Alright,” He grinned in your direction, slipping a pair of shoes on. “We can walk to that clearing with the little pond we saw on our way here, it's not far."

"That's fine but can we please not be out forever? I'm serious about getting sleep." You recalled the place he was talking about, it was pretty over there. Plus, you were pretty sure you could see the stars tonight.

Dream hummed, "Yeah, yeah grumpy. Let's go and be quiet, I don't want to wake anyone."

"Didn't seem to mind waking me up." You rolled your eyes, the audacity.

"Not my fault you got stuck sharing with me." He elbowed your side lightly.

You decided to keep quiet after that, slipping out of the airbnb. It wasn't cold, but there was enough chill to make goosebumps rise on your skin.

The walk there was silent, both of you just taking in the scenery. Your mind was replaying all your favorite moments from the past week, sure you were tired and ready to sleep in your own bed, but you were grateful for the people around you and how happy you'd been the past 6 days. Dream had invited you to come along almost last minute compared to everyone else. He had messaged you one night and told you he was paying for everything and would be happy if you came, and who could say no to that?

"What? What is it?" Dream had his eyes on you as you came to a stop, reaching your destination. "What's with the smile, I thought you were grumpy."

"Shut up. I'm just thinking about the past week. I had a really good time, I'm really glad I came, thank you for inviting me." You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed put.

Dream hummed, "Me too. Honestly I thought you were gonna say no when I asked you." He chuckled as his arm raised to the back of neck, scratching slightly.

"Really? What makes you say that?" Your nose scrunched slightly, you guys had always had a good relationship, you always enjoyed hanging out with him.

"I don't know! I guess I thought you wouldn't want to spend that much time with me." He was smiling, but you could tell he was being serious.

You frowned, "I'd never say no to something like this. I know I'm 'grumpy' or whatever but I seriously like spending time with you, all of you."

"Thanks, I like spending time with you too." He turned to face you, but you tilted your head up, getting a good look at the stars. Your heart softened at his words, he really was a good man.

There was a moment of silence before you spoke up again, "Do you know any constellations?"

"Uh, I can find Leo probably." His head tilted up to match yours and you snorted.

"Of course you can." You smiled and shook your head, typical Leos.

"Oh, there it is, here look." His finger pointed up at the sky, your eyes following where it led.

"There?" You asked, raising your own finger. Dream shifted behind you, close enough to feel his breath on your neck. He hooked his hand on yours and moved your finger up slightly, "Here." He murmured. His skin was soft against yours, you felt his heartbeat on your back and you could smell his aroma.

Neither of you moved, you could feel him turn his head to look at you. Your cheeks heated and you slowly lowered both your hands. You tilted your head to meet his eyes, your noses were barely touching. The beating in your chest grew faster and your mind whirled as you saw him lean in, just so slightly.

You pulled away and turned around quickly, "We should get back." You cleared your throat. Your palms were still sweating, but for a second your thoughts went blank.

"Um, yeah sure." He shoved his hands in his pockets and started his way back to the airbnb. You stood there for a moment before following after him.

What the actual fuck just happened. You were going to kiss him? Or was he going to kiss you? None of that even matters since you'd just rejected him. You cursed yourself as you kept trudging on.

This whole thing was a hot mess, it wasn't like you didn't like him, it was just you'd never thought about it before. Sure, you'd flirt with him in call or make dumb suggestive jokes, but you'd always assure yourself there was nothing underlying there. They were just jokes.

But now you couldn't stop thinking about it, his soft skin against yours, his heartbeat, the way his eyes looked so intensely into your own. Your brain kept repeating it over and over again, it made you sick.

By the time you reached the airbnb again, you began to hate how you yearned to be touched by him again. That, ok fine, you did want him to kiss you but you chickened out. He didn't help by holding the door open for you when sneaking back inside. You mumbled a thanks, not daring to look at him. You could still feel him behind you as you tiptoed back to your room, which you just conveniently forgot you had to share.

You got situated as fast as you could, climbing back into the bed, holding your breath as you went. You waited to feel the dip in the bed signally him coming to lay next to you. When it didn't come, you peeked at his side, he stood there gathering a pillow and his phone before turning to leave. Your heartbeat sped up again.

"Clay," You sat up before you could stop yourself. "Wait, can- can you stay. Please." Your voice wobbled, but the moments back at the clearing kept playing again and you couldn't just sit there anymore.

He turned around shifting his feet, "Yeah, yeah sure." His eyes seemed to soften at the expression on your face.

Your hand swiped at the pillow wall, this time completely dismantling it and you lied back down. You felt the weight shift as he settled next to you, your breath was still shaky. He lied down facing you, eyes searching your face.

"Hi." You whisper, nerves come rushing back now that he's here again.

"Hi." He chuckles and smiles softly. His eyes are still searching your face, he looks uncertain.

"I– Well I–"

"Listen, don't worry about it. I was dumb I don't even know what I was thinking. We can just forget it." He interrupts you, his eyes darting down and cheeks flushing.

"That's not what I was gonna say." You faltered. He stares quizzically, silently asking you to continue. "Well I-I first wanted to apologize, I was a dick back there. And um.."

The words taper off, lost. You feel his gaze bore into your face, he tentatively raised his arm from inside the covers, hooking your chin with a finger.

"It's ok." He whispers affirmatively. The consequences are instant, your nerves slow and you can only focus on how close he is. His eyes find yours, and he no longer seems uncertain. "Can I kiss you?"

You can only nod, so sure of your decision.

And he does.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream team #dreamwastaken smut #dreamwastaken #dreamnotfound #dream x reader #dream fluff #dream smut #dream smp #dsmp fluff #dream imagine #dream x y/n #dream x you #dreamwastaken fluff

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years ago

Note

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition.

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #tom riddle #albus dumbledore #anti albus dumbledore #meta #headcanon #opinion

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gardenerian · 3 years ago

Note

Allow me to indulge you and formally ask: 5 times Ian and Lip shared ice cream and 1 time... Mickey and Tami joined? Mickey and Tami brought them ice cream? Oh! Lip and Ian walked in on Mickey and Tami sharing ice cream? Whatever. Dealer's choice.

🗣 YESSSSSS! i meant to finish and post this yesterday but watch watch really took over my brain. thank you so much for indulging me, my love!🍦❤️

ian wakes in a dark, cramped room, in a bed that's too small, surrounded by the sounds of someone else's sleep. just like he has for the last several months.

it's the same, really - except everything is different.

this room is his room. the walls aren't bare white cinderblock, they're covered with posters and childhood art. his toes hang over the side of the bed that's always been his, rather than a stiff prison bunk.

and those sleepy snuffles are carl's, rather than mickey's.

ian's not going to get any sleep in here tonight. he's too lost, too hyperaware of mickey's absence. thrown back into this house, this life, with all its chaos.

the party had been perfect - holding onto liam, ribbing carl over the cake. holding franny, holding freddie. kissing debbie's red hair. watching lip cradle his son at last. kev, veronica, and a hoard of people he didn't know.

but now he's alone with his thoughts instead of alone with mickey.

ian swings his feet over the side of the bed, holding his head in his hands for a moment before making a decision. it's foreign, this freedom. moving about the house simply because he can.

lip is sitting in the kitchen, poking at the sad remains of tonight's sheet cake with a fork. his smile is tired when he spots ian on the stairs.

"thought you'd be sawing logs by now, man."

ian huffs a laugh, snatching lip's fork as he sits beside him. "can't sleep," he admits. "too much... well, too much."

lip nods like he understands, even though he doesn't. he sticks a finger in the icing and frowns. "this cake is dry as fuck. think i know what it needs."

he scoots back from the table, and a moment later he plops a carton of ice cream on the table, two spoons clattering beside it. ian grins, tossing the icing-covered fork aside and reaching for a spoon. lip opens up the ice cream - peanut butter swirl - and holds it out to ian.

they eat in sleepy silence for a moment, two men out of their element even in this familiar place. ian feels the tension of the day slip away a bit. fiona's long gone, mickey's miles away in a cell without him, and his parole officer might just ruin his entire fucking life.

but he can still sit in this yellow kitchen with his brother, sweetness on his tongue and a warmth in his veins. lip looks tired, staring down at the table as he fiddles with his spoon.

"thought you were supposed to sleep when the kid sleeps, pops?"

"you gonna call me pops forever?"

when ian just smiles, lip sighs. "yeah, probably should be asleep. we're still tryin' to work out a routine, y'know?"

ian nods like he understands, even though he doesn't.

“i don’t know how the fuck this is gonna go,” lip continues, and this ian understands. everything feels so up in the air right now, and it’s hard to believe that fucking prison is the last place he really felt secure.

lip stands, pushing the ice cream closer to ian. “glad to have a minute with you though,” he says, clapping ian on the shoulder. “good to have you back.”

ian hums in agreement, tossing a wave over his shoulder. he doesn’t feel like he’s back, not just yet. but it’s nice to be here, wherever he is, with the familiar thumping of his brother up the stairs.

lip stays in the living room after everyone disperses. mickey drags ian upstairs to celebrate the engagement, tami takes fred out to the RV, and the other gallaghers shut themselves away in their own bedrooms.

but lip sits quietly, buckling under the weight of his own announcement, and listens to the sounds of his family settling in the rooms above him. thinks about raising his son away from them.

after a little while, once everyone quiets down for sleep, lip is startled from thought by the creeping footsteps of someone on the back stairs. he turns to see ian tiptoeing into the kitchen.

lip watches him fumble around in the dark for a minute, snorting when ian stubs his toe on the refrigerator. ian jumps at the sound.

“the fuck you doin’ sitting in the dark?”

lip just shrugs. “just thinking. why aren’t you up there with your betrothed, huh?”

“also thinking,” ian replies, pulling a tub of chocolate ice cream from the freezer. he holds it out to lip in question, who gladly takes it, eager for a distraction. ian grabs the spoons, and they settle on the couch to dig in.

“so you popped the question,” lip says after a moment. “for real this time?”

ian smacks him lightly on the head. “it was real the first time,” he argues weakly. “but yes, i asked him again tonight.”

he looks a little dazed, spoon dangling from his mouth. there’s chocolate staining his lips, and he looks impossibly young for a man with a fiancé.

“how did you know,” lip asks, “that it was right? how are you suddenly so sure, after all that?”

ian takes the tub from lip and settles it in his own lap. “i didn’t know,” he answers. “i don’t know. but - i guess i realized i’m not so afraid to find out.”

and how much of their lives have been driven by fear? fear of being without, fear of being alone. fear of whatever lives within them. fuck, lip’s even afraid right now. how can he know the right thing to do?

“you gotta trust yourself at some point, lip,” ian says then, as if reading his thoughts. he takes lip’s spoon and stands, walking over to the kitchen to put everything away. when he returns, he puts a hand in lip’s hair.

“i’m going back up before mickey wakes up and gets cranky. see you in the morning?”

lip nods - maybe he’ll be less afraid in the sunlight.

he’s out of cereal. motherfucker.

ian peels himself from the couch and trudges to the kitchen in search of a substitute. he finds it in the freezer - some mint flavor of debbie’s. whatever, it’ll do.

he slumps in chair at the table, digging in without any real interest. it’s just something to do.

mickey’s somewhere with sandy - for the sake of his anxiety, ian didn’t ask where - and ian suddenly has no where to be. without a job, there’s no need for him to shower or change, no need for him to feel any real urgency.

no need for him for much of anything, really.

lip breezes through the back door with freddie, derailing ian’s pathetic train of thought. ian’s glad to see someone else in the house; he was tired of haunting the place on his own.

“what’re you up to?”

lip turns to him, settling fred in franny’s old high chair. “need to borrow a ladder,” he says, looking around the kitchen before his gaze settles on the ice cream in front of ian. “rough day?”

“not really,” ian sighs, pushing the tub forward in invitation. “nothing’s going on. whole lotta nothing.”

lip raises an eyebrow as he sits at the kitchen table. he pulls one of fred’s little spoons from his bag and scoops himself a thimbleful of ice cream. “no luck on the job search, then?”

“not much work for a guy on parole, especially when the world’s ending,” ian answers around a mouthful. “and with the wedding money gone, we’re kinda fucked. mickey keeps scamming his way into cash, but how long can that last?”

“we’ve always scammed cash when we needed it,” lip reminds him.

ian sighs - yeah, that’s true. but he’d thought, or hoped, maybe, that getting married might force a little security. a change in the way they care for each other. in the way they live together.

“i just don’t wanna have to,” ian tells him. “i don’t want every day to be such a risk, y’know? so fucking sick of prison looming over our heads.”

“i know man, trust me,” lip says, glancing over at fred. “but shit’s just - not normal right now. it won’t be like this forever. we just have to buckle down and do what we gotta do right now.”

ian leans back in his chair and swallows down a spoonful. he looks at lip, who looks back. they sit together in their own uncertainties, the same taste in their mouths.

it’s quiet when lip pushes into ian and mickey’s apartment.

he doesn’t like it - there’s usually so much noise in here. mickey shouting about something, ian singing or humming off-key, nieces and nephews running around.

but today it’s quiet.

ian’s on the couch, fiddling with his phone. he doesn’t look up when lip comes in. he doesn’t grin or wave, he doesn’t snap or tell him to go. he’s quiet.

mickey called a little while ago, asking lip to come by while he went out for a bit. it’s really not bad, he’d assured him, i think he’ll just want to see you. but it doesn’t look like ian wants much of anything right now.

“i brought vanilla,” lip announces lowly, and ian finally turns his head to face him. “mickey said your stomach’s not in great shape.”

“it’s just the new dose,” ian mumbles. “can’t have too much.”

lip sits on the floor by the couch, dropping the ice cream and spoons on the coffee table. when ian makes no move for it, lip opens the tub and holds out a spoon.

“don’t make me feed you,” lip warns. “i haven’t fed you in like, twenty years, and i think we’re past that.”

“you never fed me,” ian snorts, and lip delights in the sound. maybe it’s really not so bad this time. “i’m barely younger than you.”

“i absolutely did,” he insists. “you can ask fiona. she had to help me, but i definitely did it.”

“whatever, dad,” ian mutters, sitting up slowly and gingerly taking a spoon. he takes just a little bit, but lip watches him smile as the sweetness hits his tongue. neither of them really had a sweet tooth growing up, so these moments together feel extra indulgent now.

they don’t talk much. there isn’t really anything to solve. there’s no big plan to fix this. it’s just something they have to feel their way through, wading through the quiet.

“i would, you know,” lip says after a moment.

“would what?”

“i’d feed you this fucking ice cream,” lip says around a laugh. “if you wanted.”

“oh, fuck off,” ian grumbles, rolling his eyes. then - “i know, asshole.”

ian’s pacing the kitchen when lip finally bursts through the door.

“what’s wrong,” he pants, eyes roaming wildly over ian’s face. “what’s the emergency?”

“i never said there was an emergency,” ian corrects him. “i merely said that i needed you to come over immediately.”

“that implies something very urgent, ian,” lip sighs, throwing himself into a chair at the dining table.

“this is urgent,” ian agrees. “just - not terrible? i don’t think?”

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

ian plops a carton of ice cream in front of his brother. lip leans forward and peers at the label.

“is this fucking boysenberry?”

“yeah, they got really weird flavors in this neighborhood. best i could find.”

“well, you do owe me for dragging me over here,” lip says, opening up the ice cream. “what’s going on?”

ian takes a breath, steadying himself for this news. when they got the call, he was so wrapped up in mickey, he thought he’d never untangle himself. they’d spent last night celebrating, planning, and making promises.

but today - he needs to talk to lip.

“we’re getting a kid,” ian tells him. “a baby. human.”

“thanks for the clarification,” lip answers dully, before standing and pulling ian into a hug. “holy shit, man!”

“i know,” ian breathes after they’re seated again, “fuck.”

lip sniffs at the ice cream, and, upon apparently finding it satisfactory, scoops himself a spoonful. ian follows suit, trusting lip’s judgment. it’s alright - it’s different, kind of tart.

“look at us,” lip laughs, reaching for another bite, “we’re evolving.”

“i don’t think fruit in our ice cream counts as development, man.”

“i’d argue otherwise, but who gives a shit? you’re getting a kid! definitely evolving. how d’you feel? what about mickey?”

“scared shitless, both of us. but - happy? maybe even ready? can you really be ready?”

“sounds about right. you’re as ready as you can be, but then it actually happens and you realize you weren’t ready at all. but you’ll catch up.”

“comforting, thanks.”

lip leans forward, wrapping a hand around ian’s wrist. “you got this, pops. gonna be a great dad.”

“learned from the best, i guess,” ian laughs, holding out his spoon. “to evolving,” he says when lip clinks his against it.��

“stop eating all the cookie dough, mickey!”

“stop batting my spoon away, bitch!”

“move the fuck over then, and let me have some.”

“this is my house, tamietti, and my ice cream.”

“pretty sure it’s ian’s, actually, and he’s gonna kill us when he gets back.”

“what’s his is mine, and this is mine.”

“you’re such a drunk idiot - hey!”

tami and mickey look up, stunned, as a giant freckled hand wrenches the ice cream away from them. ian looms over them where they’re huddled around the kitchen island, face thunderous. lip stands behind him, arms crossed over his chest, clearly amused.

“the fuck, mick? i told you i was saving that for lip!”

“fuck lip,” mickey chuckles, reaching for the ice cream. ian holds it over his head and mickey pouts as it moves out of reach. tami snatches it and inspects what’s left of the pint.

“i’d say we saved you some, but mickey here ate all of the cookie dough in it. so there’s - there’s just vanilla left in here.”

“why are you guys even here?” ian snaps. “you’re supposed to be out tonight.”

“went out,” mickey shrugs. “got drunk, came back.”

“sorry to interrupt brother night,” tami says, not sounding very sorry at all. “mickey said there were snacks here... so we’re here.”

lip snorts. “sound logic. it’s cool, ian, we’ll just run out for more. or eat this sad cookie dough, it’s fine.”

ian’s chin juts out as he narrows his eyes at his husband. “you’ve been eyeing this ice cream since i brought it home yesterday. was this your plan all along? eat it all before we got back from the movie and hope i wouldn’t notice?”

mickey bites down on a grin. “maybe i was gonna say fiona wanted some.”

“damn, dude,” lip laughs. “you were gonna blame this on your kid?”

“she’s not even here!” ian shouts. “this is a terrible plan!”

mickey leans over the island, motioning for ian to come closer. “i’ll make it up to you,” he promises. “i’ll make it up to you all night.”

ian nods, considering. mickey’s brand of repentance is pretty enticing.

“you better. now pass me a fucking spoon.”

#POPS supremacy #now if you'll excuse me i am off to buy a bunch of ice cream #food tw #depression tw #alcohol tw #tumblr writing #shameless

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userholland · 4 years ago

Text

all for her [3]

pairing: dad!bartender!tom x female!reader

warnings: cursing, lots of angst

summary: a single-dad bartender, a supportive best friend and their continuous, unrequited love noticed by his optimistic daughter. is it possible to break a heart they never knew they had?

word count: 8.7k!

a/n: another month has passed but! finally here’s part 3!!! sorry for the delay but i was caught in between this rut & midterms so it took a while for any big ideas to spark. but i’m so happy that so many of y’all have enjoyed this story. i want to say again that this is my favorite fic series i’ve ever written so thank you so so much for appreciating it! i may end with 5 parts, but i won’t leave y’all hanging!

— masterlist ☆彡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

A week had passed since the gruesome bar fight and Tom was still left with a dark bruise surrounding his right eye along with another on the side of his chin and the start of his jaw. Luckily, there were no broken bones or dislocated limbs, but it was made known that he had a concussion after you forced him to go to the emergency room and get properly looked at by a doctor. As stubborn as he was, Tom tried listening to the careful instructions given for the follow-up appointments that would come, but everything went in one ear and out the other.

“We want to make sure each part of the brain that was impacted is still intact, so we want you to see this specialist and they’ll run a few cognitive tests to make sure everything is okay.” The doctor explained in simple terms as he scribbled the information on his prescription pad and ripped it off.

You nodded, taking the paper from him, “How much is all this?”

“It’s not too costly, but insurance should cover most of it.” He reassured, glancing at you before looking back at Tom’s chart, “I recommend a lot of rest and time away from work for at least two to three days.”

Tom quickly looked over, “I can’t take off work right now. I really can’t afford to do that right now.”

“Mr. Holland, we want to make sure that there’s no way you could injure yourself even more than now. You need to take a few rest days in order to relax and stay away from anything strenuous.”

“I’m a bartender, I think I can-”

“Tom... relax, please.” You retorted at him, your jaw slightly clenched.

Tom stared out the window with his side against the wall, feeling like he was miles away even though he was just across the room. You peered over at him a few times throughout the appointment, but you knew he didn’t want to be here. One of the strings of his black hoodie curled around his pointer finger, pulling on the coil before letting it spring back, repeating it a few times as the doctor continued informing to you.

He’d been fixated on the results of the DNA test. It was rooted in his mind from how many times he read over it, convincing himself it wasn’t true and it was a huge mistake. Doubt consumed his thoughts, wondering how he could have been so stupid to fall for the entire ruse even though Tom never regretted one moment of raising Summer. He loved her so much and would do anything to have her back, but finding out the truth made it harder for him to figure out if he should still be fighting for her.

Throughout the nights, he tossed and turned enough to wake you up, feeling his pull on the sheets. Sometimes you’d hold him from behind, curling your arms and locking them to make him feel safe. You pressed your cheek against his back, the eerily sound of his heartbeat against your ear as it quickly thudded. His thumb brushed over the top of your hand, remembering that you were still there, but when he closed his eyes, every thought crawled its way back in and cluttered his mind enough to make him want to burst into an angry fit.

After a few minutes, the doctor left you two to gather your things. Tom ran his hand over his hair as he started to walk to the door, but you blocked him from taking another step. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and your eyebrows furrowed, Tom knew that look was never good.

“Talk to me… C’mon, what’s going on? What’s on your mind?” You softly asked, still looking into his eyes.

Tom ran his hands down his face, a light groan leaving his lips from the frustration slowly building inside his entire body.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Y/N. Please. I’m fucking embarrassed enough.” He huffed.

“Then when are you gonna talk about it?” You retorted, your eyebrows furrowed from concern, “You can’t keep the weight of the world on your shoulders forever.”

He shrugged, “I’m not Summer’s dad. That’s it! It was all fucking nothing. It doesn’t matter-”

“It’s always mattered, Tom!” You whisper-shouted, not wanting to make a scene with everyone passing by even though the door was closed, “What Maggie did to you was fucked up, but you raised that girl to be who she is now and that’s what matters.”

Tom gulped, his tired eyes beginning to water as he kept eye contact with you. His bottom lip quivered, but he quickly wiped his tears with his hoodie sleeve. The dryness in his throat hurt and even closing his bruised eye was painful to do, making him curse under his breath every time. He clenched his jaw tight as he rubbed the back of his neck, but you placed your hands on each side of his delicate face.

It was hard to see him in this state where nothing mattered to him and there was a greyness that clouded over the great and wonderful person he truly was. It wasn’t the Tom you grew up with, not even close, so to see this side of him for the first time astonished you, and you weren’t sure what else it would take to see his old self other than getting Summer back.

He ran his hand over his soft curls, “Can we just go home?”

“Yeah, but remember we have a call with a lawyer tomorrow morning. He thinks you could get a good settlement deal since the guy who beat you up had prior arrests.” You reminded him, pecking his cheek then rubbing your thumb over the bruised skin under his eye.

Tom nodded, “You know we can’t afford this guy.”

“We’ll make it work.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist with his around your neck.

He licked his lips, “Y/N, I’m not gonna make you pay for it.”

“Who said you were making me? I know you want her back as much as I do.” You sniffled, gently holding his face so he could look into your sincere eyes and saw the way they gleamed.

Neither of you wanted to surrender and it never crossed your minds to give up on Summer, but it was getting harder when you felt like Tom was a ticking time bomb and it could only take Maggie’s choice of words to pick at the one nerve no one else could reach to make him completely snap.

Your noses brushed together with your foreheads lightly pressed, both of you reminding yourselves that you had one another. Tom placed his hand on your cheek before leaning in, feeling how soft and light your lips were against his and tasting your minty chapstick. As your eyes tightly closed, you shared a slow kiss with your arms still loosely wrapped around his neck. It was a blissful kiss, one you hadn’t shared in a while, but it was comforting in moments like this where you were terrified of what was to come.

When Tom pulled away, he planted a faint kiss on the center of your forehead, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more.” You mumbled as you looked into his beautiful, russet eyes, “C’mon. Let’s go home and put some ice on that eye again, maybe take a nap after.” You hinted.

He half-smiled, “That sounds nice.”

You quickly furrowed your eyebrows, pouted your bottom lip, “Hmm, and maybe take a shower, you look like hell.” You joked, raking your fingers through the front of his messy curls to the crown of his head.

Tom rolled his eyes and smirked, “You know you used to be nicer to me, like when we were kids.”

“Well that’s before I fell for you, I can’t get too soft… plus, I think it balances your ego.” You smiled, pressing your lips against his while the two of you giggled within another kiss.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

Later that afternoon, you and Tom were napping on the couch with the TV on low volume. The birds chirped by the window and traffic was below the terrace, the sudden honks echoing between the buildings. You were laying between Tom’s legs, the fluffy blanket over your whole body. With your arms loose around Tom’s torso, you slumbered with your head comfortably against his chest. Tom wanted to go some sleep, blinking his dry eyes every few seconds to keep himself awake, trying to distract himself with his phone.

Light snores left your lips, your face hiding in his neck as you unconsciously curled up more. Tom stretched his neck a bit, making sure you were okay before running his hand over your hair. If he could lose Summer, Tom worried that you could slip away just as easily. He never realized how protective he was, hoping it wouldn’t push you away from his own faults and insecurities; he didn’t want to be left alone.

Tom kissed the top of your hair, nuzzling his face against the top of your head. Throughout this, you were his rock, an anchor to hold him down when things got to be too much and he couldn’t believe how supportive you were with how confused he was. You held him when he cried and you listened to him when he needed to vent. It was things you’d done before, but you both felt emotionally closer like another wall had fallen and there was nothing you couldn’t tell each other.

He slowly raked his fingers through the crown of your head to the end of your back, over and over as you peacefully napped before his phone vibrated against the coffee table. You stirred in your sleep, turning your head away and loosely wrapping your arm under Tom’s neck. As his vision cleared from his sleepy daze, Tom furrowed his eyebrows at the contact name.

“Hey, baby, I have to take this,” Tom said in a low tone, not wanting to completely wake you up.

You nodded, your eyes still closed, but Tom slowly got on his feet. After he placed the blanket over you, Tom went out to his bedroom so you could have some quiet.

“Hey, dad.” He answered.

“Hey, Tommy.”

His father always had the same monotone voice, like a poker face that he had to figure out since he was born.

“What’s going on? Is Sheryl okay?” Tom replied, sitting down on the bed.

Ever since his dad got remarried a few years ago, Tom and his father’s relationship slowly parted over time. With work, school, and a kid, Tom didn’t have time to take the backhanded compliments and concerned parenting skills that his new stepmom persistently gave to him on any family occasion. They used to have dinners together every Saturday night when Tom could get away from the city and school, but each one got worse. The last straw was around this time last year, it was Thanksgiving dinner and the blowout was something Tom tried to forget every other week. He couldn’t even bring it all up to you which was hard to keep since it’s been biting at his nerves for the last year.

As Summer got older, Tom didn’t want her to think she was “some kind of mistake” as Sheryl would put it. So for the sake of her, he told himself that his family wasn’t going to cost his daughter’s happiness and he never returned a call back until now. She asked about her grandparents around birthdays or holidays throughout the year, but it was getting harder for Tom to avoid the question when she wouldn’t give up sometimes.

Even though Tom’s mom was usually out of the country, she made sure to send presents, pictures and call every other weekend to make sure he and Summer were okay, but Tom would never admit to her if something was wrong. His mom was never there, not for him growing up and rarely now, but he knew she was trying to make up for it holiday after holiday.

“Uh, she’s well. We’re fine. I just wanted to call you and ask what’s going on… How’s Summer?” His dad genuinely asked.

Tom chuckled, “Why do you ask?”

His father hesitated for a second with his answer, “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Your mom called me and said that she hadn’t heard from you either. So, we’re just worried about you…”

“Yeah… yeah.” Tom raised his eyebrows as he rolled his eyes.

He heard his father sigh, “I know things weren’t the best the last time I saw you-”

“Some woman I barely know tells me that I can’t raise my daughter? That she was a mistake? No, dad. I should be visiting even more after that.” Tom retorted, grinning to mask how the anger was building up inside him slowly but surely.

“She’s your stepmom.”

“Not to me.”

Tom’s dad didn’t fight back his bitter attitude, “Tom, I just want to talk to you. It’s just you and me.”

“Dad, I’m really… not in the mood.”

“Let’s get lunch… or dinner, maybe? Just the two of us.” His dad suggested, almost pleading.

There was silence between the conversation as Tom thought for a few seconds. As damaged as his bond was with his dad, he didn’t want to push him away. It would be what Maggie was doing to him, and to feel the separation from a child hurt like hell.

Tom sniffled, “Fine, yeah. Sure.”

“Great. Well, what about dinner tonight? Where do you want to meet?”

“Um, we can meet at the bar I work at… before my shift starts. Six o’clock.” Tom trailed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

Tom quickly hung up before he could burst into tears. In the back of his mind, he thought there was an ultimatum behind the real reason he wanted to talk, not thinking it was just some catching up. But, the stress of the past month had made Tom into a walking mess. Maybe this would bring back some old times, like when he was a kid in a baseball cap and his dad brought him to baseball games and carnivals when his mom was on business trips.

“Fucking Christ,” Tom said under his breath, running his hands through his hair. He blinked away the tears at the waterlines of his tired eyes, wiping them with his t-shirt before getting up.

It was still hard to pass Summer’s room and see it still untouched and empty. Tom kept it neat and clean, hoping it motivated his hope to have her back home. Sometimes he’d sit on her bed and think about the little life the three of you had together. She probably missed her stuffed animals she had tea parties with or the t-shirts she couldn’t fit in her bag. Maggie refused to let him over anymore, not after the last time they saw each other and how frustrated he got. It was hard to think that Tom was holding out for nothing, and Summer could never be in his life again.

He leaned against the doorframe, staring at the bunny sitting on her bed. It was the bunny you and Tom spent hours looking for sometimes, one day realizing that Summer started to do it on purpose. She would hide it in the last place you could think of and it became a race of who could find Mr. Fluffycakes first. She finally admitted one day that she thought it was a game that you and Tom liked to play, so she would try to find the perfect place to almost camouflage the soft, grey bunny.

Tom held it in his hands, bring it up to his face, and smelling the familiar, lavender-vanilla detergent. He sighed, glaring at the small paintings taped with scotch tape to her wall by the dollhouse in the corner of her room. It was Summer’s favorite Christmas present she had ever gotten, Tom’s mom hoping she’d like it after getting it from London. She traveled a lot, always sending things in the mail to Summer, but rarely making appearances with how much she did work. Tom hoped that would change from when he was a kid, but now he understood how his parents ended up separating.

“You okay, babe?” You grinned, leaning on the doorframe and glaring at Tom sat on Summer’s book nook.

“Yeah, just miss her.” He half-smiled, biting his bottom lip after and tossing her bunny on the bed.

You walked over, sitting next to Tom and wrapping your arm around his shoulder before kissing his temple trailing to the apple of his cheek then lightly pressing your nose against his cheek.

“I bet she misses you a lot too.” You replied. “Have you heard from Maggie? Any chance of… seeing her? Maybe a short visit.” You asked, pulling your head away to turn to him.

He nodded, “We haven’t talked. I don’t want Summer to see me like this anyways.” Tom said low, lightly touching his bruised eye.

“C’mon, you look noble and tough. She’ll think you’re more of a hero than you already are.” You joked, trying to get a smile out of him.

“Hmm, I wish I felt like that.” Tom sighed.

Trying to figure out the gears working in Tom’s head was always a mystery. You watched his brown eyes shift back and forth as he was leaned over, his elbows against the top of his knees. Another long sigh passed his lips and you could tell something else was really bothering him, not needing him to say it.

“What’s wrong, baby? C’mon, you have that furrow in your brow.” You tilted your head.

He bit the inside of his cheek, his pride fighting his urge to just open his mouth, but he had a soft spot for you like no one else could. The instant Tom looked into your eyes, he felt the comfort he knew he needed.

“My dad called me, just now.”

“Oh… Is that good or bad?” You asked.

He cracked his knuckles, shrugging, “Both, kind of...”

You didn’t know much about Tom and his dad’s relationship other than Tom hating his stepmom, in light terms than he used. But, he wanted Summer to keep in contact with them for as long as he could. So many years had passed since you last saw his dad, so it didn’t feel right to butt in when you knew the bare minimum, but last Thanksgiving was unforgivable in Tom’s book so you stood by his side on what he felt.

“We’re gonna meet for dinner tonight… at the bar. I want to take a shift tonight.” Tom added.

You sighed, “Tom, you can’t work. We have to go to the doctor soon.”

“Just tonight. I promise. I… I need to do something with myself.” He groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing the top of his head before looking back into your eyes.

“Okay… I understand. But, just tonight.” You agreed and rubbed his arm, pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

Tom sat up, straightening his back and you pulled your face away from his shoulder to look him in the eye. Your faces were close together, a few inches away before he asked, “Can you come with me? ‘Cause, I don’t think I can do it alone.” He admitted then bit the inside of his cheek.

You tried to hide your smile, happy that he was opening up a bit at a time.

“Of course, babe. I’ll go with you for however long you need me.” You said as you trailed your hand to his, intertwining your fingers together and giving him a quick squeeze. Tom’s smile slowly painted on his tired face, bringing the top of your hand to his lips.

“Thank you. Really, thank you. You don’t know how grateful I am for you.”

“Well, I have all day.” You jeered and it made him smile again, wrapping his arms around you to scatter kisses on your cheek and neck.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

The bar wasn’t busy during the late afternoon, before the fleet of college students and single women came through for the nightlife. But it was a relaxed spot when the sun was still out. A few husky men sat at the bar, eating chips and drinking pints to watch the various games on the flat screens or truckers stopping by for a nice meal and taking a smoke outside. It wasn’t the most formal place to meet up, but Tom had work in two hours so it was more convenient than worrisome to impress his dad.

You and Tom sat at a table for four, sitting next to one another and your arm linked around his. He was dressed in his work attire which was a dark-blue button-down paired with a white t-shirt with his name tag on the right side of his chest, solid black jeans that were a bit baggy on him, and his raggedy converse with the laces looped around the ankle once. He kept checking his watch every few minutes while he tapped his right foot against the floor and it began to make you a bit antsy.

“Baby, you need to relax.” You reminded him, lightly pressing your hand down on his thigh.

“I am. I’m just mentally preparing for what he’s gonna say to me.” He sighed as he sat up in his chair.

“Like what?”

“Oh, you really want me to go through the entire list?” Tom sarcastically joked, a half-smile on his lips.

You humored him with a giggle, but nodded your head, “You’re overthinking it. It’ll be okay and I’m right here next to you.”

Tom leaned in, giving you a light kiss that made your stomach fill with butterflies. You never knew how tender he could be when he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who enjoyed PDA. But, he became putty when he was around you by this point that it was hard not to want to kiss you when you comforted him.

He quickly looked down at his watch again, “He’s almost an hour late. He probably bailed.”

“Don’t say that. He’s gonna come, maybe, he’s just in weekend traffic.” You tried to keep his head up.

Tom rubbed the back of his neck, but he couldn’t help but slowly feeling the creeping feeling of abandonment on his shoulders. He wanted to give his dad a chance, he really did, but this was reminding him of how he was never the most reliable. It twisted Tom’s trust issues in every person he met and having to be forced to sit there, wondering and waiting, was eating Tom alive.

Another half-hour passed and Tom decided to clock in early. He didn’t feel like having to sit there for another hour, only to be asked and told exactly what he expected to hear. You told him that you’d sit at the end of the bar, staying with him until he specifically asked you to go home, but really you wanted to hang around to make sure Tom didn’t get into another bar fight that ended up with him having more than a concussion.

Some college students fled in and asked for a round of beers while others waited for their favorite cocktails. There was enough staff tonight that Tom didn’t feel overwhelmed like last few times, sometimes having to clock in on days he didn’t work because someone called in sick. The new guys were nice, most of them young and needing something to do during graduate school or trying to make rent.

As Tom wiped down the bar when a group of girls left, his manager, Teddy, called his name from behind. He quickly looked over his shoulder and tossed the rag in the bucket underneath the bar, walking over to Teddy who never failed to not have a clipboard in his hands. He never took off his wedding ring at work like some of the other servers and bartenders and even so, he gushed about his wife, Anna, when he could. Even though he sounded like a broken record some days, Tom admired how Teddy flaunted his stable, almost 20-year relationship.

“Glad to see you back, Tommy!” Teddy grinned at him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I feel better, I just have to go to a few doctor’s appointments, if that’s okay with you.” Tom asked in the moment, crossing his arms.

“Of course! Of course. For how long you’ve been working here, I don’t think you’ve ever taken a sick day or called in last minute.”

“It’s just been two years, Teddy. You make me sound old.” Tom joked, cracking a smile.

“Yeah, but I still appreciate you. You’re a valuable asset.”

Tom didn’t want to take the compliment, but he still nodded and grinned.

“Hey, have you heard anything from that guy’s lawyers? Are they giving you any compensation?” Teddy curiously asked as he wrote with his signature, blue pen on the paper of the clipboard.

“My girlfriend and I found a lawyer, but I don’t know if he’s good enough to make sure I get the money I’m supposed to get. We’re working it out.” Tom reassured him as he glared at his feet.

Teddy smiled at Tom, big and sincere, “Well, as long as you have that support, you’ll be prepared for anything that comes your way. I’m sure your daughter will too.”

Tom nodded, “Yeah… She’s a great kid.”

He still hadn’t told anyone at work what had happened with Summer, seeing it was no one’s business other than everyone knowing he got hired because he was a single dad trying to provide for his daughter, at least who he thought was his daughter.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.” Teddy acknowledged before walking to the kitchen through the doors.

Tom bit his bottom lip before sealing his lips, looking out at the crowd coming in. Out of habit, he checked his watch again, but quickly turned away to not keep holding out with his dad to come. When Tom’s gaze landed on you, his eyes softened a bit at the natural glow you had. You were talking to a girl who you knew in college, both of you still sat at the end of the bar and you smiled and laughed with her.

As he walked over to where you were, your eyes went to him and your friend looked over her shoulder.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” She grinned, flashing Tom a friendly smile before she walked back over to her table of friends.

Tom’s eyes followed her then turned his focus to you, leaning on the bar, “Who was that?”

“She was in a few of my classes in college. Good friend. She thought that I had a pretty cute boyfriend too. Apparently, his black eye makes him look very brawny.” You teased, bringing your class of water to your lips as you watched him chuckle.

“Is he here tonight? I’d love to meet him finally.” Tom joked back.

The brightness was back in his brown eyes, a glimmer of hazel under the warm light. You hadn’t seen that gleam in a long time and it was a good sign and as much as you couldn’t know what was going through his mind, you just wanted more moments like this. Both of you away from the apartment where you weren’t secluded to walls that had too many memories built within them.

You leaned on the bar, your nose brushing against Tom’s before you shared a sweet, short kiss. You giggled against your lips as he did too, but you pulled back when you heard someone say his name from behind.

Tom’s dad stood there, his hair was a salt-and-pepper shade and a few lines along his face. The shoulders of his cargo jacket were wet from the downpour outside, a few raindrops dripping down his forehead and nose.

“Hey, Dad…” Tom sighed.

You turned to Tom, “Go, it’ll be okay, baby.” You reassured him, placing your hand on top of his.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” Tom said before giving you another kiss then walked around the bar to meet with his dad in the middle of the floor.

“Do you wanna sit?” His dad asked him, gesturing his hand to the table next to them.

“Yeah, I just have a few minutes,” Tom said, pulling out the chair.

His dad furrowed his eyebrows, “What happened to your face? Did you get into a fight?”

“Uh, yeah. Sort of. It’s not important.” Tom deflected as he lightly touched his eye, not thinking his bruise was that noticeable in the dim lighting of the table.

“I think it’s important.” His dad chuckled, leaning on the table to get a closer look, “C’mon, who was it?”

Tom nodded his head, “That’s not why you’re here to talk, Dad.” He said lowly, crossing his arms.

“Well, I wanted to catch up. How are you? How’s Summer?” His dad tried to carry the conversation in a more positive manner, hoping he could connect with Tom without it becoming an argument.

“Um, Summer’s fine. She’s in kindergarten this year.” Tom replied.

“Wow! Kindergarten already? It’s like yesterday you were that age. You would always wear that damn baseball hat everyday… your mom would throw a fit and she tried to hide it from you all the time, but you managed to always find it. Ah, she just loved when your hair grew out.” His dad chuckled, leaning back in his chair and he glanced over at you.

“Yeah… She’s getting older.”

“You have a picture?” His dad quickly asked.

Tom pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery until he found a picture from a few weeks ago at her birthday party. It was when Summer was blowing out her candles, her knees pressed into the chair cushion and her one hand pushing her up on the table while the casted one was by her side as she tried to reach the top of the cake.

“She broke her arm? Geez, what’s going on in your lives?” His dad smiled at the picture before Tom took his phone back.

“Her and Y/N went ice skating and she fell and… it was a whole thing, but she’s okay now.”

His dad grinned, “Is that Y/N over there?” He nodded his head in your direction.

Tom looked over his shoulder at you, still sat at the bar and you were talking with one of the bartenders. You crossed your leg over the other as you carried the conversation with a glowing smile painted on your lips, gesturing with your one hand while the other cupped your drink. The red and yellow lights strobed against your face, highlighting it past all the people passing by to get drinks or dance on the other side of the room. You felt Tom’s eyes glued to you, making you stare back at him and give him a playful wink.

“Yeah. We’re... dating now.” Tom admitted, glancing down at the table and drawing slow circles with his index finger on the polished wood.

Tom’s dad smiled, “Yeah well, you always had a crush on her. Glad to know you guys are still close. She was always a nice kid and… from what you told me, she was good with Summer.”

Every time Summer’s name was brought up, it struck Tom’s nerve and it made his face heat up. The more he talked about her, the more upset he got about what was going on complied with the other things going on in his life. Tom clenched his jaw, not able to reply and his dad could see he was upset. Even though Tom was growing older and he was his own man, his father could always tell when something was wrong. As much as Tom didn’t think anyone could figure him out, his dad could read him like the back of his hand.

“Is something else going on? Other than me just showing up?” His dad tilted his head to try to look at Tom.

As Tom’s pride fought his ego, he didn’t want to feel like he was suddenly giving into his father now that he was sitting in front of him. The idea of talking to his dad made him upset and brought back cruel memories, but now that he was venting and talking about things he thought he would be angry about, this seemed like a better time than any other to explain what was really going on.

Tom picked at his nail, trying to find the first words to say to how he felt without it feeling like a corny, emotional sitcom moment.

His face heated up, “I… I sort of found out that I’m… not Summer’s biological father.” Tom pinned his lips, tears developing by the corners of his eyes saying it out loud.

Tom’s father was shocked, not showing it on his face, but he gulped, “Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent. I took a DNA test at the doctor’s and… it sort of just… Well, I trust it enough to take it one time. The girl who’s her mom took her away, probably just for the child support, but I can’t figure out what to do… It’s been a month without her and I can’t sleep anymore, Dad. I raised her and I never doubted she was my daughter until now.” Tom choked up, a dryness in his throat making it hard to take a deep breath. He ran his hand over the top of his hair, weaving his fingers through the fluffy brown curls and pushing it away from his forehead.

His dad took a few seconds to contain his thoughts, wanting to truly think before he spoke and knew how much Summer meant to Tom.

“And on top of that, this asshole threw a punch at me at the bar last week and that’s how I got this.” Tom gestured to his eye, “And now I’m trying to get a settlement, but I don’t think I can afford the lawyer, and… everything is falling apart.” Tom trailed, finally looking right into his dad’s eyes who’s were similar to his.

Tom lowered his head, trying to hold his tears back at the sudden release of everything on his mind.

“I know you raised that little girl so well and I’ve always admired you for that.” His dad started.

Tom ran his hands down his face, sniffling as the whites of his eyes turned a light red. He couldn’t look at him as his father started to talk, worrying it was going to be a backhanded compliment and it was the wrong decision to do this.

“But, it’s gonna be hard to get her back if she’s not yours… but, if you find out more about how the mother feels about Summer and the whole situation, I can get in contact with a good lawyer or steer you in the direction of one.” His dad offered, but Tom nodded his head in response.

“Dad, I can’t do that.”

“I’m your father and I’m not gonna leave you hanging like this… I know you love Summer and you raised her. I’m not gonna let you drown yourself in a settlement on top of that, okay?”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of this-”

“You’re not, I know that! You’re a grown adult who’s just needing some help and that’s fine.” His dad emphasized, understanding how hard-headed his own son could be.

Tom nodded, “I want it to be a loan. I can pay you back for however long it takes.”

“No, no. Let me help you out… as your dad. I’m not a bank, I’m not… anyone else. I’m your father and I know that if you were taken away from like Summer was to you, I’d want everything to be as smooth as possible.” His dad explained, trying to show how much he truly cared about his son despite the cold, bitter tension between them for the past year and a half.

The two of them sat there with the noise of the people’s conversations around to fill the silence, but Tom came to his decision and he nodded, “Okay. It’s a deal.”

They didn’t even shake hands, let alone hug, but the thankfulness was implied. Tom’s dad grinned at his son, the one who was just a little kid he wishes he truly gave the world to instead of sitting here thinking he had a lot to make up for.

“Other than all of that, have things been good otherwise?” His dad asked, glancing up at him.

Tom chuckled, “Just this and not much else. It’s been pretty boring without Summer around. But, Y/N has made it better.”

“Is she a keeper?” His dad grinned.

“She’s more than that. She’s really great and I could… see her in my life forever.”

His dad smiled, “I remember when she broke her arm and you just went on and on about dropping her homework at her house. I had to… call the school and get the parent contact information and then you were all jittery and nervous in the car. Even gelled your hair that day.” He recalled, smiling at the memory.

Tom blushed, “I wasn’t that nervous.”

“She really is a sweet girl. I’m happy for you.” His dad appreciated him, nice to see a smile finally on his face.

“Thanks, Dad.” Tom’s smile curled up, patches on red painting his cheeks at the thought of you even if you were sitting a few feet away.

“Well, it looks busy here so, maybe we can reschedule for an actual dinner. One that I don’t have to tip you for.” His dad jokes as they both stand up from their seats.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Definitely.” Tom nodded, running his sweaty palms down the front of his pants.

“It was really nice to see you. Don’t be a stranger.” His dad stood in front of him, staring at the mature and put-together man his son had become in the blink of an eye. It was a bittersweet feeling that maybe their time apart was leading up to this moment.

“I won’t.” Tom grinned, leaning in and wrapping his one arm around his dad.

His dad linked his arm around him as well, his hand meeting Tom’s back and giving it a few rubs before they pulled apart.

“I’ll keep in touch with you about the lawyer.”

“Thanks again.” Tom nodded.

You glanced over your shoulder, watching them go their own ways and his dad gave a quick wave to you. When your eyes shifted to Tom, he had a glow on his face, wanting to hide his smile by sealing his lips. You couldn’t help but grin, swiveling the barstool around to face him and you reached out for his hand.

“How did it go?” You simply asked, placing your hand on top of your knee.

Tom nodded, “It was fine, we can talk about it more when I get home.”

“No, tell me now.” You giggled, not wanting to put a damper on his news.

He half-smiled, “Just know that everything is going in the right direction. My dad said he’d help me a little bit with the settlement stuff and that way I can focus on Summer and what we’re gonna do.”

You ran your thumb over the top of his hand, “I’m really proud of you, you know that?”

“It was nothing-”

“It was something.” You retorted with a sweet smile, giving a light squeeze to his hand, “C’mhere.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, pulling him in to press a soft kiss on his lips. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t easy, but he didn’t want to take pride in something that seemed silly after it had happened. Luckily, he had you to remind him that he was taking the steps he needed to get Summer back. It was the first time you could see the light inside him even if he didn’t want to show it. Just from the difference in his smile, there was that gleam of hope.

As you pulled away, you sealed your lips and grinned at him. Your nose scrunched up as you both giggled, suddenly overwhelmed by the happiness filling yours and Tom’s hearts. You brushed your nose against his, your foreheads pressing together before he gave you another light kiss.

“Okay, I gotta work. You should go home, get some rest.”

“Well, I kind of wanna stay. It’s nice here and you’re just someone cute to look at.” You tilted your head.

“Why don’t you order something, on me, relax for a while and I’ll try to get off work early. Maybe, we can pick up ice cream on the way home to celebrate.”

“Celebrate? Must have been really great news that I can’t wait to hear in detail.” You jeered and he planted a light kiss on your forehead before rounding behind the bar. He grabbed his rag, shoving it in his back pocket and you turned around toward him.

“What would you like to drink tonight, ma’am?” Tom said jokingly, placing a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of you.

Your lips to the side, “A rum and coke and make it dirty, Mr. Barkeep.”

He chuckled as he pulled a glass off the bottom shelf, beginning to make your drink in swift moves. He looked so natural behind the bar as he poured the bottles in intricate ways, finishing off the beverage with two cherries.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled followed by a wink.

“Nothing I can say in public.” You teased before taking a sip of your drink.

Tom smirked at you before moving down the bar, tending to other customers with a natural smile on his lips. You tilted your head with your drink in your hand, almost in awe of him and how handsome he was.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

The night was getting louder while the crowd was growing, some people passing by bumping your shoulder even though you were still sat at the bar. You saw a few friends and struck up conversations with them to catch up, not completely bored while Tom was working, but you were worried about him. You hoped that he wouldn’t oddly hurt himself, having to take him to the ER and give him a good “I told you so” talk on the way there.

As you worked on your second drink, your phone vibrated in your purse and the screen lit up. You furrowed your eyebrow at the unknown number but still decided to take it in case it was important. You asked your friend to save your seat as you took your purse, moving through the crowd to get outside. The rain was pouring still, but you stood underneath the awning of the bar as people ran under it, drying themselves off before entering.

“Hello? This is Y/N.”

“Y/N? It’s Summer.” She whimpered, her voice at a whisper.

She stole Maggie’s phone that she left on the charger in her room, sneaking it away and using the emergency numbers written on the tag of her backpack. Tom didn’t answer first, making her worried so she decided to call you and hoped to hear your voice she missed so much.

Your heart dropped, “Summer? Are you okay?”

“No, the lady is mean. She makes me go to bed early with no bedtime stories like Daddy said she would. She-she’s not fun and she leaves me with a strange lady next door.” She sniffled, curled up behind her bedroom door.

“Wh-What strange lady?”

“She’s old and mean too. I don’t wanna be here anymore. I wanna be with you and daddy.” Summer continued to cry at a low volume, muffling her whimpers to not let Maggie hear in the next door.

You felt your heart breaking, not sure what to say since she wasn’t your kid but, in a way, she was. You pinched your nose bridge and the heavy rain making it hard to have a clear mind.

“Um, um, have you talked to your dad? Are you safe?” You asked, frantic as her.

“N-no, Daddy didn’t answer. Please come pick me up. I hate it here.” She wept, her voice shakey as she begged.

You nodded, not able to take it anymore, “You wait there, we’re gonna come to get you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

The time was almost midnight, but a loud knock echoed against Maggie’s door. She groaned, getting herself out of bed and thinking it was a drunk at the wrong apartment or someone playing a prank. As she approached the door, Maggie put her hair into a bun to clear her vision when she approached the door in the dark. After flicking on the light switch for the warm light above her, she opened the door and saw Tom dripping wet.

“Tom?... It’s almost midnight. I told you not to come here again.”

Tom sighed, “Y/N got a call from Summer and she was upset.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe she took my phone. Jesus, what did you teach her? Because she’s been acting out in school, whenever I’m at work, I can’t take her anywhere!” She complained, her arm slapping against her side as the other held the door open.

“I didn’t teach her that. You’re the one who doesn’t know her and I know you’re not treating her right.”

“Oh, how do you know?”

“You leave her with some strange woman when you’re not here?”

“It’s my mother, Tom. I work, I have an actual job, okay? Not some side gig at a crappy bar where I can live on my tips.” She retorted, but it made Tom’s anger quickly grow.

Tom ran his hand through his wet hair, almost defeated by how defensive she was.

“Why are you doing this? She’s upset and she wants to see me.”

“Well, Summer is just a kid, she’ll get over it. Not getting her way is a part of life, Tom. God! You babied her so much that she just comes crying to you.” Maggie hissed at him, ready to slam the door in his face.

“She is a baby! She’s a kid, Maggie. She called Y/N because she can’t stand you. Do you think that’s good for her? Being here?” Tom yelled back, his jaw clenched and his face heating up.

“You know, I’m getting really sick of you saying what Y/N thinks is good for Summer like she’s her stepmother or something.”

“And where were you being mom of the year? Huh? Why do you have such a problem with her, Maggie? She’s the one who helped me throughout raising Summer, not you because you were never here!”

Maggie crossed her arms, her only defense since she didn’t have any words.

“Where were you when she took her first steps? Her first words? When she got her first A in kindergarten? Did you take her to the hospital when you thought she had a peanut allergy or when she fell ice skating? Who was there for her, Maggie?!” Tom persisted, his eyes filling with tears at how angry he felt.

Maggie couldn’t look Tom in the eyes because it was all true, she knew it this whole time, but hearing it out loud made her even feel a bit guilty.

“So, why do you suddenly want her now? Is it money? Or do you really want her to be in your life? I can arrange it any way you want if you really do what her back in your life, but I don’t think it’s fair that you just swoop up and take her away when she’s my kid too. A kid that I raised since you left her on my doorstep six years ago.”

Maggie chuckled out of spite, “You’d never get it.”

“Then tell me! Tell me so I understand. It’s just us right now. Y/N isn’t here and all I want is Summer back home so, what is the reason, Maggie?” Tom asked, his voice a bit more calm, but still frustrated that he hadn’t gotten a straight answer the entire time they had been standing there, “I know there’s a reason why you didn’t tell me all these years that she wasn’t mine. You know it and I know it… I just want you to be honest with me. Okay?” Tom retorted.

She sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. As she rubbed her hands down her face, her breath was shaky as the truth was trying to inch out of your mouth.

“I… Summer’s dad and I were dating and I told him about her and he was… upset. Like, he thought I was just a bad mom and he said he’d leave me if I didn’t just take care of her.” She huffed, shrugging at how stupid it sounded coming out.

Tom was baffled, but he let her explain herself without interrupting.

“H-He left to Vegas or San Diego or wherever. He left me again and now I just… I wanted to prove myself!” She whined, gritting her teeth as a tear trailed down her cheek, “But, she hates me and I don’t blame her, but I know I’m not a mom. I never… wanted a kid, okay? I just… I wanted him back.”

All Tom thought was that she was selfish. He could yell and scream all he wanted, taking Summer away from her in the next few seconds, but nevertheless, he controlled his breathing and tried to hear her out.

“Anything else?” He asked looking down at his feet, his arms crossed and feeling a chill from the AC.

Her eyes were teary, but she nodded, “Don’t hate me, please. Please.” She begged at a whisper.

“I don’t… Just, do the right thing now and let her come back home.” Tom sighed, his voice broken as well.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

Your body felt on fire from how anxious you felt, your foot tapping against the floor of Tom’s car. You waited, thinking your heart was going to burst in your chest if you had to wait any longer. A few minutes went by, concentrating on the time on the radio, but the heavy rain made the car windows look like stained glass. You hated biting at your nails, but you couldn’t help it after hearing Summer’s scared voice.

You curled up in the passenger seat, pulling on the seatbelt. You couldn’t just sit there anymore and do nothing, but stare at the dashboard and listen to the rain hitting the windshield. Your eyes began to tear up, wiping them quickly with the sleeves of your shirt, but you turned your head when you heard the back door open.

Tom was soaked from head to toe by this point, but Summer was curled around him before he set her on the seats. She had her backpack on, her hair damp and she was in her matching pajamas. Rain dripped off her noise and she wiped her wet forehead with the back of her hand.

“You get buckled in, just buckle in, okay?” Tom told her, still standing in the rain as he gave her the buckle of the seatbelt.

She nodded, guiding it across her body and pushing it in the lock until she heard the click.

“There you go.” He nodded, shutting the door and walking around the front of the car.

You sealed your lips as tears ran down your cheeks, tasting how salty your tears were. When Tom sat down, practically throwing himself into the car, your eyes met and you smiled at him. There was a sense of relief back in your lives at this moment, possibly a perfect one. As you glanced over your shoulder, Summer’s head was against the door and her eyes were heavy, but you reached your hand back to meet hers, holding it so tight that you never could think to let go again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

tags/taglist: @felicityparkers @dhtomholland @duskholland @sinisterspidey@itstaskeen @tomhollandsgirlfriend @bi-writes @infinite-imagination @honeyspidey @hollandcrush @sunsetholland @pparkersbitch @namoreno @calltothewild @spideyspeaches @veryholland @osterfieldshollandgirl @slutforsebstan @bi-lmg @sunshinepeterparkr @annathesillyfriend @madmadmilk @antigoneidk @hollandcreep @wierdflowerpower

#tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female!reader #dad!tom #bartender!tom

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dragon-kazansky · 4 years ago

Text

Lay beside me | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @cherry-season

Collage made for me @real---remy Thank you so much!!!

Another lengthy one. Steamy situation ahead 😏

Sometimes you wanted to curse the way the universe worked. It's as if the universe took joy in your misery and you could nothing but deal with cards you were dealt.

The four of you: Sam, Bucky, Zemo and yourself, were stopping off at a hotel for the night. The place was pretty luxurious, but with Zemo in the group, you didn't expect anything less.

After finding out he's a Baron, nothing he does surprises you any more.

You were actually kind of impressed. You had never stayed anywhere so nice before. There was nice, and then there was nice. This place certainly fell under nice.

"Why do we have to be working? Why can't this be a vacation?" You sigh, looking around the beautiful lobby.

"Perhaps this is a reason to come back in the future," Zemo suggest, looking at you.

"As if I could afford to stay here on my own."

You all stroll up to the reception desk, letting Zemo take the lead. He requests four rooms, really not caring about the cost. He assumes everyone would be happier on their own, thought he wouldn't admit he wouldn't mind sharing a room with a certain someone.

He glanced at you. You were standing beside him, looking over at the seating area in the corner. He smiled at how interested you seemed in main entrance area alone. When the receptionist addressed him, he turned his attention there.

You wouldn't say this place was posh, but it was just so... classy. You really felt like you stood out in your gear.

"There's only two room available, with the festival in town, we are otherwise full."

All of you looked at the receptionist as if she had grown another head. That meant you would have to share with someone, unless....

"The three of you can share right?" You ask, looking at the three men.

"You mean I have to share a room with Bucky and Zemo? No, why don't we share?" Sam gestured between him and you.

"And leave Bucky alone with Zemo? Is that a good idea?"

"Well, I'm not sharing a room with Zemo."

"Then you have to share with Bucky."

"Which leaves you with Zemo." Sam couldn't see any good combination out of this. "I would rather Bucky than Zemo though."

You glance at Zemo who was looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Fine. I'll share with Zemo, but I won't hesitate to stab him if he does something," you warn, looking right at the Baron.

"Hey, I'm not complaining." Sam puts his hands up.

Zemo grabs the key cards off the desk, hands one to Sam and keeps hold of the other. Bucky glares at Zemo as you all enter the elevator.

Oh, it's awkward.

Bucky is standing behind Zemo, glaring at the back of his head. Sam is trying not to say anything. Zemo is looking at you from the corner of his eye, and then there's you standing there trying to avoid looking at any of them.

The ride up feels like forever. When the doors open, you're quick to get out. Unfortunately, you can just rush off. Firstly, Zemo has the key. Secondly, you're not sure which way the room is.

For a short bit you all go in the same direction, but Sam and Bucky have to break off down another hall to their room. Sam gives Zemo another warning, before reassuring you they will come quickly if you need them. You nod and let them go.

Helmut leads the way, unlocking the door when you arrive. He holds the door open for you.

"You first, little bird," he smiles as he gestures into the room with his free hand.

You duck past him and go inside.

The room isn't massive, but there's enough room to move around. There's a bed plenty big enough for two, a chair in the corner, a small desk and a stool. A tiny TV was situated on the wall.

It would do.

To be fair, you shouldn't complain. This is the nicest room you've had to stay in for a while. You walk over and sit in the chair.

Zemo places the key on the desk and removes his coat, hanging it in the small open wardrobe by the door. He turns around to face you.

"I apologise for the turn out."

You look at him stoically.

"It's fine."

Zemo was honestly over the moon he was sharing a room with you. He had hoped this would happen, it was an opportunity to talk to you without your "bodyguards" hovering around. Helmut hadn't had much of chance to sit and talk with you since your paths crossed.

"So, sleeping arrangements." Zemo runs his hand together as he looks at the bed.

"You take it. I can sleep in the chair." You were used to it, as much as you would love to relax in the comfortable looking bed. It looked so warm and welcoming.

"I won't allow that. It looks like we'll have to share the bed, little bird." He has a sly grin on his lips as he looks at you.

"You wish."

"There is no point in discomfort if the bed can fit two. I will not allow you to sleep on the floor or the chair. I already know your boys will come running if I step so much out of line. Are you really willing to sacrifice a warm bed for your own pride?"

You glare at him, but it's hardly threatening.

"No."

You stand up and walk over to the bed. You sit down on the other side, the mattress squashing down under you.

"Fine, but I meant it when I said I would stab you."

"I know," he chuckles.

The pair of you met up sigh the boys to have some dinner down in the food hall downstairs. Both boys checked in with you to make sure you were alright with the arrangements. You assured them it was fine, much to Zemo's delight.

Helmut assured you that you could order whatever you wanted, but you kept it pretty casual, not feeling good about leaching off him off him like this.

After the meal, you returned to your room.

You took off most of your gear and grabbed the remote for the TV. You decided to get comfortable in the bed and watch something.

Zemo disappeared into the bathroom to use the shower.

You really tried not to dwell on that too much. Yet, the idea of him in a steamy shower... no! No, you couldn't.

What is wrong with me?

You tried to focus on the TV, but you can't. You glance to the bathroom door. You can hear the shower running. He's in there, hot and wet... and naked.

Damn it brain!

You covered your face with your hands. You wanted to scream, but that would just bring him out to check on you.

You didn't hear the water turn off, or the door unlock moments later. You were far too occupied scolding yourself in your head, trying not to think about him.

"Is something the matter?"

You look up in shock, startled by his voice.

Now you're staring.

He was dressed in only a bathrobe, most of the top was open, his chest on display. There was a chain necklace hanging against the damp skin exposed to you.

You didn't realise the way your eyes soaked him in, or the way you licked your lips as you stared at him.

Zemo noticed.

"See something you like?"

You blink, shake your head, and turn away. He chuckles deeply as comes over to the bed. You feel the otherwise of the mattress dip down as he climbs in.

He smells so good.

Damn it!

You do everything in your power to avoid looking at him, but his presence is so prominent. You can feel him beside you.

Zemo is staring at you. He had been since he came back in. Your cheeks were flushed, you were very early trying to avoid him, and you were gripping the bed sheets like it was a life line.

He couldn't help grinning. He had no idea he could have this effect on you.

"Little bird~"

"Don't call me that."

"Liebling, then."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing bad." He grins.

"I don't trust that."

Zemo shifts so he is resting on his side, one hand supporting his head and the other resting on the bed in front of him. He keeps his eyes on your face.

You take a glance.

His smile grows when you catch his gaze.

You sink down into the bed, still trying not to look at him. Your eyes on the TV, but you still have no idea what's going on. You can't get him out of your head.

"You must be tired."

"A bit."

"Sleep, I promise I won't do anything," he speaks softly.

"I know."

He chuckles softly. He watches as you try and get more comfortable. You let out a relieved sigh when you find the right spot. He just watches you.

"This must be nice for you," you say, looking up at the ceiling.

"What do you mean?"

"Staying in a lavish hotel, sleeping in a big bed... and the company."

"I suppose. Though you get used to being alone in a cell," he states.

You give in and roll over, racing him. You have to look up since he is propped up over you. He smiles softly down at you.

The scent of the hotel soap wafts past your nose. God, it makes you want to do things.

Brain, stop it.

Your eyes are drifting to his chest again.

"What's going through that head of yours?"

"Nothing!"

"I don't believe you."

"Well it's the truth."

"I don't think so," he whispers.

"What do you think then?"

"Judging by the way you keep looking at me, and not at my eyes I might add, I think you have plenty on your mind."

"Well," you try not to blush too much as you meet his beautiful brown eyes, "if you knew how to tie a robe properly, I wouldn't be staring."

"I don't mind you staring."

"I mind." You sit up and glare at him.

"Show me how to tie a robe then." Zemo sits up in the bed and untied the belt, allowing the robe to fall open. He sits there looking smugly at you.

You have no idea where to look.

"Oh my God!"

He laughs. The sound send shivers down your spine. It was the most genuine sound you had ever heard. He may laughing at you, but you would give anything to hear that sound again.

"Show me."

You shake out of your thoughts and look at the belt he has left laying on either side of him. You have to move closer to him to get a good angle. You sit up and face him, trying to avoid straddling him. You grab the robe and close it over him, trying so hard not to stare. Though, your eyes did wonder, you stopped yourself when you realised he is literally only wearing the robe.

One of his hands reach up and tuck under your chin, bringing your eyes to meet his. The smile on his face is subtle. His eyes take in your beauty.

"Don't be shy. You can look."

You shake your head softly and continue to close his robe, ignoring the obvious below his waist. Was he really turned on by this?

His hand had drifted from your chin to your cheek. His thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone as you tied the belt around him. This time there was far less on view.

"Done," you whisper.

His thumb moves to brush against your bottom lip. His touch is so gentle and ghost like. Your hands are resting over his covered chest. You can feel his heart beating under your hand.

Before you can think too much about it, his arms are looping around you and pulling you down into his chest. Your face falls inches away from his face. His eyes flicker over your face, taking in every little detail. Your leg drapes over his as he captures your lips with his. He's careful to roll you over so you're against the bed and he's over you. His kiss becomes more fierce when he realises you're not pushing him away. Your hands loop around his neck to hold him against you. He moves from your lips to your jaw, down your neck, pulling at the collar of your top to kiss as much skin as can access.

That's when you stop him. You place your hands on his shoulders and push him back.

"This is wrong..."

"You weren't giving that impression," he moves his face back to yours, an inch of space rests between you.

"Zemo-"

"Helmut, please."

"Helmut... I can't. It feels like I'm betraying their trust."

"They'll never have to know."

"But I'll carry that guilt with me."

Those stunning eyes of his turn almost sad. His tongue runs across his bottom lip as he moves from above you. Zemo settles on side next to you, laying as close as he can to you.

"Then allow me tonight to hold you. I may not get this chance again." He holds his arm open to you.

You admire his messy hair and soft gaze. He offers you a tiny smile. You roll over and settle into his chest, his arm drapes around you and he gathers you into his embrace. He plants a kiss to your head as you rest against his chest.

"Sleep. I want to hold you for a while."

You tilt your head up to kiss his jaw and settle into his arms, closing your eyes and listening to the way his heart races.

You wanted to tell yourself Zemo was just lonely, but as you lay there with him, you wondered of he held you in high regard. Perhaps there was more to this than you were thinking.

In the morning when you wake, you're still tangling in his arms. Your head was on his chest, his arms were still wrapped around you, though loosely. Your legs were tangled with his and his head nestled against yours.

You lay there in silence.

You're not sure how much time passed before he woke, but you had enjoyed every single second of it.

When he realised you were still resting against him, he tightened his hold on your and planted a kiss to your head, much like he had done before you fell asleep.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Liebling."

"I still don't know what that means," you mutter, not wanting to disturb the peace that had settled over you.

"I'll tell you later," he grins.

"I haven't slept that well in ages."

"I can say the same," he opens his eyes and looks at you, giving you a dashing smile.

"I almost don't want to get up."

"Then don't."

"We'll have to at some point," you tell him.

He chuckles softly as he closes his eyes again, nestling his face next to yours.

"We'll worry about that later. For now, let me enjoy this moment."

You smile and get comfortable against him.

"Alright."

Sam and Bucky and would throw a fit if they could see you now, but even that wouldn't be enough to stop how happy this man had made you in one night.

You hoped that, perhaps, you would get a second chance to do this. Maybe then you'll give him what he wanted last night.

Maybe, just maybe, something irreversible had begun.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo #zemo x reader #marvel

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julek · 4 years ago

Text

a humble offering to @west-moor and @kueble, for bringing this post to life. they’re very dumb, your honor. | read on ao3

It starts at dinner one night.

They settled in a few days ago, bringing the ice cold from the mountains and the snow with them, after trudging up the Killer for two weeks. They sit at the wooden table and before them stands Vesemir’s famous roast, the one Geralt had told Jaskier all about.

Geralt helps himself to some potatoes, and gestures to Jaskier’s plate. “You want some?”

Before Jaskier can nod, Lambert cuts him off. “Darling,” he says with a pointed tone.

Geralt turns to him, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “What?”

“You seemed to have forgotten you were speaking to your bard, there,” Lambert quips, and sits back with a knowing smirk. “Just wanted to help you out.”

Geralt blinks. “Uh.”

Jaskier notices the way he’s frozen in place, and gently touches his forearm, ignoring Lambert’s non-sequitur. “I’d love some, Geralt. Thank you.”

“Uh,” Geralt repeats, and doesn’t take his eyes off Lambert as he fills Jaskier’s plate. “Sure.”

Jaskier pads into the kitchen the next morning, eyes still fuzzy with sleep and an old, worn woolen sweater hanging off his shoulder. Geralt looks up from his bowl of kasha and smiles.

“Morning,” Jaskier mumbles, and sits down at the table.

“Good morning.”

The shout comes from the pantry, followed by the unmistakable sound of pans and cups clattering. “Morning, honey!”

Jaskier narrows his eyes, and looks at Geralt for help. He shakes his head. “Um. Hi?”

Out of the pantry walks Lambert, hands full of baking ingredients, a flour scar crossing his cheek. “How’d ya sleep, sweetheart?”

Jaskier decidedly does not blush a bright shade of red. He doesn’t. “Well, that’s just— thank you, Lambert, for asking. I slept well, even though this keep’s freezing cold and my bed was entirely too big for one fragile bard such as myself.”

Lambert frowns. “What do you mean, too big? You’re not sharing with Geralt?”

Geralt chokes on his kasha, momentarily. Jaskier snorts and shakes his head. “No, I’m staying in the east wing.”

“Ah,” Lambert says, a wolfish grin on his face as he ties the apron behind his back. “That’s… interesting.”

He shoots Geralt a look that’s there a second and gone the next, and Jaskier would’ve missed it, if not for the developed skill of observing Witchers and their fleeting emotions. Still, it’s a look he can’t decipher, a mix of amusement and mischief. Best not to find out, he decides.

“So, Lambert,” he starts, a touch louder than he should. “What’s that you’re making?”

Geralt had warned him, Jaskier thinks in retrospect, that Lambert was a bit weird. An acquired taste. And he is, Jaskier won’t deny it, but he’s also incredibly unpredictable — his gruff demeanor and rough disposition always, without fail, betray the sweet words that leave his mouth.

He’d been brushing the horses down when Lambert ruffled his hair and called him dear. Geralt nearly dropped his sword one morning, when Jaskier walked out onto the courtyards and Lambert called out hello, sunshine. On their way to the library to get absolutely smashed, a gentle touch to his elbow and little bird.

They’re all incredibly sweet, incredibly unexpected delicacies, and Jaskier doesn’t know what to make of them. Sure, Lambert isn’t horrible to look at in the slightest, what with the entire lean-body, scarred-face look he has going on, with the playful teasing and easy smiles he gets out of him. He’s objectively handsome, and funny, and kind, when he has to be, and Jaskier has let him know, many times. He hasn’t been exactly subtle in feeling his muscles through his linen shirts and sending looks his way whenever he’s said something salacious and tempting — signs so clear even the brother of one of the Continent’s most oblivious Witcher could read them. Which is why it’s so infuriatingly confusing, the fact that name-calling is all Lambert’s got for him.

And it’s not lost to him at all, the way Geralt frowns and fiddles with his medallion whenever Lambert lets a honey-sweet pet name slip. He doesn’t miss the way Geralt stubbornly looks straight ahead, focused on absolutely nothing at all, nor the way his mouth twitches, almost, almost resembling a pout.

It’s amusing, to say the least.

“Well, I’m off to bed, my wonderful friends,” Jaskier announces one night, after playing a few annoying renditions of Toss a Coin, until he got Eskel to break and beg him to stop.

The wolves say their goodbyes, and just as Jaskier’s about to leave the Great Hall, Lambert calls after him.

“Night, love,” he says, offhandedly, and continues his conversation with Eskel, as if nothing had happened.

Jaskier scans the room, and his eyes fall on Geralt, who’s trying very hard to remain seated, even when his knuckles are white and his leg is bouncing wildly enough to propel him into the night sky. His amber gaze follows Lambert’s movements and if Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d say Geralt was about to throttle his brother.

“Hmm.” He murmurs. “Goodnight, Lambert. Goodnight, Geralt.”

Jaskier smiles sweetly and leaves the room at a leisurely pace. He can feel Geralt’s eyes on his back.

One particularly chilly afternoon, Jaskier’s leaving the library when he hears voices that carry through the hall.

“Well? Gonna explain yourself?”

Oh, the middle-aged woman that lives inside Jaskier’s heart and loves to gossip jumps up and down in joy at the prospect of what seems to be a very interesting conversation. He slips out of the room and presses his back to the wall, even when he knows the Witchers could sense his presence. It’s more fun if there’s a risk to get caught, he reasons.

Lambert’s voice is low, and Jaskier can hear his smug smile as he says, “Well, you weren’t doing anything about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Geralt’s voice echoes.

“It means, you thick-headed idiot,” Lambert drags the words out, like he’s speaking to a child. If Jaskier’s quiet, he can hear the way Geralt’s blood boils in his veins. “That you’ve been walking in circles for too long. Jaskier’s here.” At the mention of his name, the bard perks up.

“I know that, Lambert. I invited him. What’s that got to do with this— this sweet talking thing you’ve got going on? It’s weird. Creeps me out.”

“What? I can be decent when needs must!” Comes Lambert’s offended retort. “What I’m saying, pretty boy, is that he’s a good thing, the kind that Witchers never get to have. Not that you own him or anything— it’s just. He’s good, and he’s obviously waited for you to make a move, sometime in this past decade. He’s here, for fuck’s sake— in an old ruin in the middle of fucking nowhere, holed up with four Witchers and a goat, nothing else. Ain’t exactly a walk in the park.”

Jaskier stands very still, his heart beating out of his chest.

“Hmm. I still— I don’t deserve him.”

Lambert laughs. “Well, too bad, then. You can’t come to me with that self-deprecating shit, I’m not Eskel. But, fuck, if you don’t deserve him, who the fuck does? Certainly not me, but— I need you to listen very closely— he won’t wait forever. He might even settle for me, if you don’t make a move soon.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah.”

Geralt’s footsteps echo down the hall, moving closer to Lambert, Jaskier thinks.

“You’ll stop with the pet names, then?”

Lambert laughs, again. “Absolutely not. It’s too fun seeing you get all hot and bothered.” He steps out of the room, thankfully, in the opposite direction, and calls out, “Don’t fuck it up!”

Jaskier lets out a breath and slides to the floor, gathering the new information in his brain. Geralt wants him. He wants him, and worst of all, thinks he’s undeserving — damn him and his humility. He lets out a laugh in disbelief.

Geralt wants him.

The next morning, when Jaskier walks into the kitchen, he’s greeted by a blushing Geralt.

“Hi,” Jaskier says, an amused smile curling his lips, and sits down at the table. “How are you this morning, dear?”

Geralt pushes a bowl in his direction, a bit too strongly. “Good.” He coughs. “Uh, I’m good… Sugar face.”

“Huh?” Jaskier stops mid-bite. He quickly regains his composure. “Um— that’s good, I’m glad, yeah.”

Geralt grimaces, and an awkward silence follows. Jaskier digs into his breakfast with more enthusiasm than necessary, until Lambert walks in, firewood under both arms.

“Lambert! Thank the Gods— I mean, uh, it’s so good to see you. It’s a bit chilly this morning, isn’t it? I’m sure you agree, what with coming straight from the great outdoors and such— I’m going to the library, if anyone needs me, uh, just,” he rambles as he washes his bowl, “just call. You know. My name. Jaskier the bard, ha— that’s me! Anyway, see you.”

He makes haste to leave the kitchen, and as he walks down the hall, he hears Lambert clicking his tongue.

“Fuck, Wolf, it’s not even mid-morning.”

Jaskier stays in the library until the sweet aroma of Vesemir’s stew reaches the room and his stomach rumbles pleasantly at the thought. Given the way he’d fled the kitchen, he wouldn’t be surprised if no one called him to lunch — they probably thought he was having some sort of stroke, with his word-vomiting and hurried escape. He’s just opened a new book when he hears a knock.

“Come in,” he says, voice steady.

The door opens, and sure enough, Geralt’s standing at the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face and a terribly endearing flush creeping up his neck.

“Hey, love,” Jaskier says, because it’s difficult to call him otherwise. “You okay?”

“Hmm.” Geralt walks over to his chair, and stands there awkwardly until Jaskier gestures to a bench next to him. “We’ll have lunch soon.”

Jaskier smiles. “I was just thinking about that. It’s stew, isn’t it? Oh, Vesemir spoils me so.”

“Thought you’d be hungry,” Geralt says, looking at his hands. “You left breakfast early.”

Jaskier pales, then lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh! Yes, well, I had suddenly remembered a book I just had to examine more closely, and—”

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s looking at him now, and Jaskier closes his mouth, choosing to look back into his amber eyes and wait for whatever comes. Nothing does, for a while — they just stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak up. Finally, Geralt does.

“I invited you up here, to spend the winter with me,” he rasps, “because I couldn’t bear the thought of not being close to you, Jaskier, I— I can’t stand it.”

Jaskier’s heart breaks a little. “Geralt.”

“I should’ve asked you to come up here years ago. I wasn’t brave enough. Thought you’d hate the idea.” He grimaces.

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeats. “When you asked me to come here with you— you have no idea what it meant to me, knowing you still wanted my company. I couldn’t have been happier.”

Geralt sniffs and gives him a weak smile, his white hair falling on his face.

“I’m not good at this,” he says, and gestures vaguely at the space between them. “The whole…”

“Calling me disgustingly sweet and somewhat alarming pet names?”

Geralt nods.

“I know, dear heart.” Jaskier takes Geralt’s hands in his own. “I know, and I don’t expect you to.”

“I’d still like to call you something, though,” Geralt says, the tiniest hint of a pout on his lips. “Can’t let Lambert best me.”

Jaskier snorts. “So it’s all about honor, then?”

Geralt shakes his head. “It’s about you.”

And oh, he sounds so sincere, so open and fragile, Jaskier can’t find it in himself to tease him any further.

“You know what I loved the most about traveling to Kaer Morhen with you?”

A tiny frown knits Geralt’s brow. “What?”

“‘T was when we stopped in those hamlets, the ones that aren’t even on maps,” he murmurs. “Where you gather your supplies, where people know you and call you by your name. You know why?”

Geralt shakes his head.

“Because,” Jaskier whispers, bringing their foreheads together, “whenever they asked you about me, about who I was, your answer was always the same.”

He’s my bard, Geralt had said to the horse trader when they bought a mule. My bard, he’d answered, when the chatty shopkeeper had inquired about the colorful fellow trailing after him. My bard, he’d said with a shrug and a fond smile, as Jaskier and the tailor entwined themselves in an argument about fabrics and the season’s colors.

My bard.

“You always called me yours.”

Jaskier closes his eyes when he feels Geralt’s lips on his own, a soft, gentle thing. They move slowly, simply exploring — when they part, there are kisses being pressed to his cheeks, his brow, the corner of his mouth and his jaw.

Geralt smiles at him, and Jaskier smiles back, aware that they probably look like two lovesick fools staring at each other, but far too gone to care.

“I don’t need flowery names or honey-soaked terms of endearment,” Jaskier assures him. “Being called yours is more than enough.”

Geralt presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Hmm. Can’t go around claiming you as mine, though. ‘S a bit archaic.”

“Mm. You’re right. Love of my life, my moon and my stars should be enough, then. Rolls off the tongue, even.”

Geralt growls. “Jask.”

“Dearly beloved— no, that’s too formal— I’ve always been fond of Angel, though I doubt I’ve earned that title.”

Geralt kisses him again, and Jaskier half-suspects it’s less about the tender gesture and more about shutting him up.

“I’ll think of more, you know. You can’t distract me with kisses forever.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. “Okay.” He pecks his cheek. “Bard.”

“Yours,” Jaskier says smugly.

Before Geralt can open his mouth, the library door swings open.

“Fucking finally, Geralt! We’re all so very happy for this revelation, way to go, and all that.” He clasps his hands together. “Now, you both need to get your asses to lunch, otherwise Vesemir will kick you out. Jaskier, baby, please be grossly in love with Geralt later.”

Geralt groans. “Fuck off, Lambert.”

He leaves with a cackle. Jaskier smooths out his doublet, gets up and holds his hand out to Geralt. He grins.

“You coming, sugar face?”

#mywriting #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #fair warning this turned out way softer than i intended. it's geraskier tenderness hours #also it largely does not make sense #like. at all #hope y'all like it still!#this was fun #also yes there are only two locations at kaer morhen they’re the kitchen and the library. no i do not take criticism

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

Note

Albedo. I just rolled him and finished his quest.

I would love to talk about travelling with him, or at least being someone who brings in the ingredients for alchemy. Someone who goes out of their way for him and gets the best. Maybe the only gardener in Mondstadt to grow alchemical roots and grasses.

I'm happy for you, rolling the cute alchemy boyo ywy I only rolled in his banner to get Bennett in five rolls I'm sorry Albedo, my primogems are for Xiao and Hu Tao- *shot*

Back to business! I really, really like this cute idea awww thank you for distracting from the angst fics in my head haha (TUMBLR DIDN’T SAVE IT PROPERLY AND SO THE POST IS HORRIBLY SHORT WAIT- FIXED IT WOOHOO)

Albedo's Personal Botanist

Background

Most ingredients in alchemy usually come from ores and liquid ingredients formed by chemistry methods. Stuff like Tuttia, Bismuth, all that shindigs-

So while plant life can be useful for alchemy, not everyone recognizes its utility straight away, and provide for the common plants for arrangements rather than scientific inventory

I can imagine that you'd be a normal gardener at first but very passionate of their properties.

Might be a Dendro vision wielder too, the Dendro archon loves those who wield the power of knowledge, more so when they use it on nature.

You carry with you a lil book about all the plants and shrubs that you've personally cared for, down to their finest detail and properties. But you're a gardener, not a master of Alchemy, so some parts of the notes you couldn't really figure out yourself.

The first time you met Albedo, he was around a year into staying in Mondstadt. He was forced to go out and take a breather because of his workaholic schedule, and instead of relaxing in a bath, he ended up drifting to the market area to get more ingredients local to Mond.

Unlike the other flower stalls, he was pulled into yours because of the wide variety of your wares. Roots, grasses, shoots, plants you couldn't just find outside of the walls.

You were tending to your mini greenhouse in the back and left your botania book on the shelf outside, and this LIL SHI- Albedo, having no proper training for social interactions, straight up just opened that shit and read it all.

"Oh, hello there, mister- HEY, THAT'S MY STUFF, WHAT THE HECK"

Flustered, confused and alarmed, Albedo tried his best to quickly reason with your garden-spade-wielding self. And with his pretty boy self, you managed to calm down and listen.

You may or may not had smacked him with a bouquet of horsetail for good measure.

"Such vast knowledge and detail orientation, why waste away your talents in selling productive fauna when you can wield them into something more?"

Master Phytologist of the Knights of Favonius acquired!

Working with Albedo!

Your greenhouse in the Knight of Favonius HQ is most definitely connected to Albedo's laboratory! And very spacious too.

More than one occasion, you've seen the Chief Alchemist casually sneaking around the area, plucking a Flaming Flower or scraping dandelion seeds from the pot while you were busy tending to other flowers on the other side of your area.

65% of the time you caught him red-handed and you will be met with the rare sight of a fumbling, queasy Albedo.

30% of the time you just find out something is missing after checking inventory for the day, usually ends up with you hunting and shouting for Albedo. Because the guy seem to have a sixth sense as to when you find out his thieving adventures.

5% of all of that, Kaeya would be the one stealing from your 'safer' floras to woo a random citizen in Mond. And as a master of botany, your precious babies are always in tip top shape. Top quality bouquets all day, all night.

Those moments are the ones Albedo hate more than getting smacked with your spade. Those are your flowers, and by association, his. Grown to their maximum potential by your calloused yet gentle hands FOR HIM-

Kaeya: *reaching out to pluck a perfectly healthy glaze lily*; Albedo: *his short ass of a shadow looming over him*

NOW IT IS HIM WHO WIELDS THE POWER OF THE GARDEN SPADE

The atmosphere of your work area is significantly different from his own messy laboratory. The glass walls and roof that lets in just the right amount of sunlight, with a perfect view of the scenic landscape of Mondstadt and beyond.

When Albedo reaches a wall on his research, he picks up his sketchbook and just- waltz in to your workshop through the door connecting your workspaces.

The fresh air, the soft kiss of the sun, your humming, it was all a symphony of heaven concocted just for him.

He’ll find himself sketching your babies, dozen or more times you are included.

Your notebook’s illustrations are mostly courtesy of him, and he greatly basks in your pure admiration of his drawing.

To help him focus, you once took on the great task of organizing his laboratory, to no avail. Even if you manage to fix and align his inventory, it’s gonna go back to chaos after three days minimum.

It’s okay tho, it’s normal for him, more excuse to visit you-

Guilty, he wants your spacious and refreshing greenhouse and often asks for a redesign of his laboratory to share similar workspace with you.

Acting Grand Master Jean had to decline this idea just because it costs more than a million mora.

He’s definitely gonna sulk in your greenhouse after that, back leaning on the warm glass wall as he does nothing but sketch you and your plants the whole day.

Don’t stop him

Just admire the pout

Actually Working with Albedo! (Finally)

Whenever Albedo discovers/explores a new area, you’re always sure to tag along whether willingly or by force

YOU BET YOUR FROZEN ASS YOU’RE COMING WITH HIM TO DRAGONSPINE

DEFINITELY BY FORCE

I imagine that despite being his assistant/student, Sucrose and Timaeus are more focused on research and the application of Alchemy, so they’re not much of the resource gathering type. That said, Albedo is very thankful of your existence, it’s a breather to his already full schedule.

Albedo is both considerate and inconsiderate unconsciously : While he may run off to experiment on the traveler and leave you scouting the area yourself, he doesn’t willingly set you on fire from the inside.

Every time he comes back to camp after finishing the step by step experiment with/on the Traveler, he makes sure to check up on how you are doing.

TAKE NOTE: Our prince is very occupied and busy with his own work a lot, so he’s never really seen you in action when you go out to get the the materials he needs-

So he is purely horrified when he saw you hanging off the cliff with nothing but a rope around you to keep you safe, carefully investigating a petrified tree branch up close.

Suddenly, elevator.

Again, Imma bet, he’s gonna be accompanying you in all your expeditions after that. He’ll need to know where and how you acquire every ingredient outside of your greenhouse.

Does it require you to climb a mountain? Are there any Hilichurl camps nearby? Maybe mobs that are attracted to that type of flower?

He would be very attentive of your inventory reports and would recognize if a dangerous gathering journey is near. He’ll be right there with you.

Violetgrass x1000

He’s gathering more than a month’s worth just to make sure you don’t go back to make that dangerous trip. It’s very impractical, but let him rest his heart.

You and Albedo: Resource Gathering Expedition; Other Knights: Outdoor Dates Disguised as Work-Related Outings

Flower crowns are good and all but have you heard of flower bracelets?

Omg so cute hhh imagine a Flaming Flower Stamen bracelet for his Dragonspine expedition- it’s not gonna last forever but it’s so precious he’s definitely keeping that shit even when the heat already dissipated from it gah-

“Paimon wonders, what’s that thing around your wrist?”

“A flame bracelet, made to keep the cold away.”

“Woah! Sounds very useful! Sure would be handy for exploring, you think we can borrow it-”

“No.”

Something angst-y: Albedo has yet to make a Dendro affinity potion and he’s really, really devastated about it and himself. You’ll have to forcibly pull him out of his self-deprecation, force him to get a breather.

Overall, Albedo greatly appreciates not only your utility but also your consistent company. He values your tenacity and comfort, sharing unadulterated curiousity as you both venture the great unknown. There’s a lot of stuff he can pray about to thank whichever archon has graced you. And despite his Vision lacking the function to actually help in the advancement of his research, he is now thankful for it, for he has found with it a greater purpose: Ensuring the safety of his precious Gardenia.

I CANT BELIEVE IT, THIS THING WAS 30 TIMES LONGER BUT TUMBLR DIDN’T SAVE THE DRAFT PROPERLY AND HAD TO GET EVERYTHING BACK THROUGH MEMORY, AND MY MEMORY IS B A D. I’M SORRY I KNOW YOU JUST WANTED TO TALK BUT IT ENDED UP BEING SUPER LONG AND LOOKS LIKE A HEADCANON THAN ANYTHING, MY FORMATTING IS REALLY LIKE THIS AAAAAAAA- I hope you enjoy ywy I like your brain, it brings good ideas and gives me good ideas too!

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact albedo #albedo #albedo x reader #exile.goblet #ahahahahhahaha #this is so long and disastrous #im sorry skskksks #my first ask!#there's a double 'the' here somewhere #I just can't find it wth #exile.flower #gender neutral

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mrslilyrogers · 4 years ago

Text

All I Have To Do Is Dream

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)

Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.

Author’s note: I know I’ve been gone for so long, I’m sorry!! I loved these requests and decided to merge them together. Took a while to write, I haven’t had much inspiration. I’ll keep this short and hope you enjoy this!! Let me know what you think!

Requests: hi!! first of all i adore your writing (esp. betrayal)!! id willingly chop two of my limbs in exchange of ur writing skills hahah!! can you maybe write a oneshot similar to take my breath away, and the reader and steve are dating, but they’re actually in steve’s dream(like in age of ultron) and she is sad that steve’s still hasn’t moved on from peggy?? and can you make it extra angsty?? sorry if this is too much hehe!! thanks btw :))

Hmmm maybe angst w/ Steve or Bucky where a misunderstanding/bad fight leads to the reader leaving the team?

“Damn it, Steve! Would you just listen? Where the hell are you even going?” your voice boomed around your small apartment as you breathed harshly, trying your best not to pull your hair out of frustration.

At first, it had all been just petty disagreements, you and Steve letting off some steam after the snap happened. You had thought it was normal at the time, a coping mechanism that needed to be flushed out of your systems never expecting that it would last for as long as it has. Five freakin’ years. By now, you would’ve thought you’d realize how lucky you were to still be alive, to still be together while others couldn’t say the same. And yet...

“Geez, Y/N. I am! For the past 30 minutes! And I’m telling you now what I’ve told you from the start, I am not ready! You gotta give me more time, doll.” He replied, his voice just a tad calmer than yours but you didn’t miss the tick in his jaw as he walked out of your shared room, shrugging into his jacket. You knew his anger was just brewing inside, ready to attack if you pushed just a little bit harder. After countless back-and-forths, this had become a routine between the two of you with Steve always taking the role of the aggrieved party, ending arguments with an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes before he walked away, deciding he had something better to do with his precious time than fight with you. While you, on the other hand, always found that more infuriating, making you impatient and mean, baiting and nagging him until you wouldn’t even recognize the shrill and whine to your own voice.

“And when would that even be? It’s been five years since the snap. When will—”

“Don’t you dare bring that up!” his voice rose, eyes glaring at you as he whirled around, his jaw clenched. “Don’t use that excuse on me, you know damned well I know it. Why do you think I chose to move on and be with you instead of helping Nat bring them all back, hmm?” He continued mockingly as if you were stupid enough not to understand.

This was it, what all your petty arguments had narrowed down into;

Despite what he said, he still wasn’t ready to settle down.

“But what the hell are we doing now, Steve? We’re not getting any younger! I want to have kids, a family, with you!” You knew you sounded pathetic, and desperate all at the same time but you couldn’t help but continue, the pretty picture already clouding your brain,

“Can’t you see it? Having children of our own, their drawings hung up on the walls, the dog you’ve been wanting to have since forever running around the house, family barbecues...” your voice trailed off, a lump forming in your throat, your eyes glazing over with unshed tears. It was all within your grasp, so easily reachable if only Steve agreed with you. If only he wanted it too. Anger bubbled up to the surface while he bristled, looking annoyed.

“We can have all of that, you know. What are you even waiting for? Will you ever be ready? Because it really feels like you won’t and I’m the only one who actually wants this,” You were unrelenting, thinking of Tony Stark’s family, how they had gone off the grid and had their own little piece of heaven. Crossing your arms, you knew you wouldn’t achieve anything by becoming a nag but your patience was already wearing thin.

“Jesus, Y/N! Why would you even say that? Of course I want a family with you! I’m just not ready for that yet! Just give me more time,”

Shaking your head, you let out a defeated sigh and looked away from him. You could hear him grabbing the keys from the counter, exhaling loudly before he went up to you and ran his hands down your arms soothingly, willing you to understand. When you didn’t budge, he just pleaded as he always had,

“I love you, you know I love you. But I need to get to this meeting, those people need me, Y/N. Could we please just talk about this later?” He moved his head lower to meet your eyes and even in your state of anger, you knew you couldn’t say no to that. He took your begrudged nod as an assent, kissing your forehead before he turned to leave. What else were you going to say anyway? He was going to lead a therapy session for people who had lost their loved ones. Guilt ate at you for keeping him here when he so desperately wanted to save the world. People needed him too, not just you. They hung on his every word. They needed their Captain America, their symbol of hope. While, here you were, acting like a child because he wouldn’t let you have your way.

Letting out another sigh, your gaze stuck to the floor, berating yourself at how selfish you’d become. You knew what you were getting into when you dated him. You had no illusions of being the center of his universe, it was always going to be the people. But still, it would’ve been nice to be put first for once. You hated the tandem feelings of jealousy and guilt that always crept up on you after your fights. You just wished he understood that while those people needed their hero, you needed your Steve too. But as time passed, it seemed like the man and the hero were indistinguishable and you’d been deluding yourself into thinking it could be different. You’d just have to accept that too because living without him wouldn’t even be an option.

He paused by the door, catching sight of your slumped shoulders. “Hey,” he said softly, striding back to you.

“You know I love you, right?” he stroked your cheeks and you couldn’t help the turn of your lips. Nodding slowly, you rolled your eyes at how easy you were for him.

“I know. I’m sorry,”

Ducking down to give you a quick peck on the lips, he reassured you again, “We’ll talk about this later, I promise,” then he gave you one last kiss to your forehead before he disappeared. But what once would’ve eased your worries did nothing to quell your nerves now. Your heart believed everything was alright but your gut said otherwise.

_______________

He looked down at the worn, brassy compass in his palm, his mind years away from where he was, unaware that you were standing by the door. You watched his shoulders relax into a defeated sigh, his eyes never leaving her picture. You couldn’t remember when he ever looked at you like that, all the love and longing etched on his face. He brought his other hand up to caress the picture gently, as if he actually imagined she was with him, a small, sad smile forming on his lips. You felt the air knock right out of you while you scrambled out of there feeling as if you’ve intruded on an intimate moment. You couldn’t help the tears falling from your eyes while you convinced yourself it was nothing. He had just lost his best friends, she was a symbol of his past. He just missed that right?

You paced around the kitchen, your mind running back to the times you’ve caught him staring at Peggy’s picture. All those times you pretended you didn’t notice how frequently he had been doing it these past few years. His voice, an echo in your head,

“I’m not ready, just give me more time doll, please,”

Closing your eyes, you buried your face in your hands. Oh, it would be so easy, you thought. All you had to do was get into his mind and see for yourself. One little, fast trip into his thoughts and you’d get your answers. He’d be none the wiser, no one need ever know except you. And your dignity, and your pride and your principles. Ugh.

He trusted you, you promised never to use your powers on him and yet, that was all you could ever think about now. Did he think of her when he thought of the family he wanted? Was it her face he saw, walking down the aisle to him?

For the first time in your life, you hated your upbringing at the Xavier Institute. You hated the values and principles they instilled in you, the very reason you were adamant not to use your powers on the unwilling and unsuspecting for your own personal gain even though you were going crazy, craving for your own peace of mind. Deep down you knew, promise to Steve or no, you couldn’t go through with it.

You looked at the clock, thirty minutes to go before his meeting ended. Grabbing your coat from the rack, you impulsively decided to go to him, promising yourself you weren’t going to nag and argue with him but have a normal conversation like you used to. You haven’t had a date in a long while anyway. Maybe a little spark of romance was all you really needed.

_____________

Your steps echoed on the linoleum floor, walking past the empty hall to follow the directions to the room where the meeting took place. Rubbing your palms together, you spotted the room. The fluorescent lights hanging above casting a lonely pallor to the already gray walls while the rain poured heavily outside. The gloom, an inevitable reminder of what the world has become. It seemed everywhere people went, there was always a reminder of what they’ve lost. Even on an otherwise unblemished sunny day, the vibrancy was not the same, people were scarce and it was quiet. Too quiet. Which was why you were so adamant to continue on living, in order to honor the lives of the people you’ve lost.

You could hear their faint voices outside the room. Your heart going out to those poor people who still held onto the past while you thanked your lucky stars you still had Steve.You fished for your earphones in your purse trying not to eavesdrop but his clear and deep voice interrupted you. Leaning against the wall opposite the door, you listened, a smile tugging on your lips while he commended the other person. He was always so good with words, always knew the right things to say and that never failed to make you proud. His words of encouragement lifted your spirits, making you stand a little taller, hope blossoming in the pit of your stomach. He talked about moving on, about finding purpose again.

“I went in the ice in ‘45 right after I met the love of my life,”

Your whole body went cold, the smile on your lips faltering, your hands suddenly gripping the edge of your blouse while his disheartened voice continued to try to reassure everyone including himself,

“I woke up 70 years later, you gotta move on. You gotta move on,”

With a hand to your lips, you ran, your rapid, staccato steps filling the hall barely even muffling the sobs you desperately tried to hide.

___________

Steve didn’t bother coming home straightaway after the meeting. He told himself it was because he needed to check up on Nat despite the fact that he could’ve easily just called, despite knowing you were all supposed to meet for dinner in a few days anyway. He took his time getting to the Avengers Compound, embracing the uncharacteristic quietness of the city, giving him the chance to be alone with his thoughts. If he were being honest with himself, he couldn’t shake off the guilt that settled at the pit of his stomach at the thought of Peggy. The love of his life. Apparently, anyway. He had no idea where that came from, never really thought of it until it slipped from his mouth. And did he really feel that way? Was she really the love of his life?

The thought of you came unbidden from his mind, your warm smile waking him up in the morning, your laughter setting the world to rights whenever he was feeling especially out of place. You’ve been through so much together, what you both had was real and it was beyond anything he could’ve imagined when he woke up from the ice and he knew he should take it a step further. He loves you, he is fully committed to you. There was nothing holding him back and yet… and yet, he still thought of her. He couldn’t help but think that if he had only stayed where he really was supposed to be, Peggy would’ve been the mother to his children, she would’ve been his wife. She would’ve been his life’s true love. But the very thought of that put a sour taste to his mouth, the truth was he could never picture his life without you. As much as he still dreamt of the past, how could it be the same if you weren’t there?

At first he thought falling in love with you was a balm to soothe his lost soul until he eventually realized you had crept up on him slowly but in a span of a heartbeat, wormed your way into his heart so suddenly he couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment he knew he loved you. It was plain and simple, he knew it as he knew the sun rose in the east, he loved you. It was so unlike the way he fell for Peggy where all it took was one look and he was already drunk in love.

Was it possible then, to be in love with two women?

________________________________________

You were already in bed when Steve got home, feigning tiredness from the day when your heart was really beating rapidly in your chest. How could you face him now knowing you were second best? You could hear him in the bathroom, oblivious to your inner turmoil. When he was done, he gave you a quick kiss goodnight and went to his side of the bed, his back to you. You turned to face the wide expanse of his shoulders and wondered where the hell do you go from here. Would you really be alright living in the shadow of his ex, one of the world’s most accomplished women, so extraordinary that Captain America couldn’t even move on from her? Could you really leave him if it came down to it?

A tear escaped the corner of your eye and you laid on your back, the darkness of the ceiling reflecting the heaviness in your heart. You must’ve stared at it for hours, wondering just how far away you were from the man right at your side. He was with you physically but his heart? You always knew deep down, it belonged to someone else. If he had a choice to go back, would he leave you? With the way things were going, you knew he would. In an instant. There was always a part of him that he closed off from you and ever since the snap, it only worsened. The fights, the distance, it all made sense now. Heck, even tonight, he didn’t even bother to ask how you were doing and accepted your lame excuse to get to bed early. It was the weekend, you literally had nothing to do the whole day and yet, it never even occurred to him that something could be wrong. For once, you were sorely tempted to use your powers on him. Hearing his even breathing as he slept didn’t make it any easier. It would be over before he knew it, what would be the harm in that?

As if on cue, he turned and faced you. His long lashes resting peacefully on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, he looked like a man who didn’t carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked younger, more like your Steve. The Steve you wished would let you in and give you the family you’ve always wanted.

“Just a quick little trip, no one would ever know. What would be the harm in that?” the little voice in the back of your head taunted.

What would be the harm in that?

With your resolve weakening, you jumped right into the abyss, entering the mind of the man of your dreams, hoping you were his too.

______

The sun shone brightly through the open window, letting in the warm summer breeze while his favorite vinyl record played in the background.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long long time

The air was crisp and the smell of pancakes and cinnamon wafted from the doorway of the kitchen into the living room of the small, suburban house. The yellow walls were adorned with children’s drawings with a few marker drawings on the wallpaper here and there. The faint sound of giggling could just be heard from where you stood by the stairs. Your children, you thought to yourself, a smile creeping up your lips. This was it. This was what you’ve been picturing too, what you’ve told him countless times over and over again. He dreamed of it too. You turned your attention to the living room, your heart giving a little leap at the mess. It looked like someone had tried to tidy up but gave up on the last minute, some toys still scattered about. You noticed the pet bed by the couch, and you couldn’t help but be excited and hopeful, it was everything you thought of down to a T. You went towards the paper and crayons on the low table between the couch and the fireplace, inspecting one of the children’s current drawings there. It was of a family, their hands holding each other while they smiled in front of the house, a little dog at their father’s side. At the bottom, a scribbly handwriting of a preschooler wrote; Mom, Sarah, James, Dad and directly below the dog, Sam. You laughed aloud at that, clutching the drawing, hoping you could keep it for yourself and willing it into existence.

“Come on, dance with me,”

You heard Steve’s playful voice coming from the kitchen. A woman’s laughter rang out, you could just imagine yourself shaking your head at him in response, but something about the woman’s laugh caught you in your tracks. A little too shrill, a little too melodic. You inched closer to the open door, your heart dropping to your stomach. There they were, the picture perfect couple. He twirled her around, her red dress hugging her curves so effortlessly, while she drew her head back and laughed. The dimples on her cheeks deepening, her curls staying in place even when Steve maneuvered her around. They looked so beautiful together, his golden locks and smitten smile never once leaving her face, he never looked so happy.

Not even when he was with you.

That realization hit you like a train. You couldn’t even remember the last time he looked at you the way he looked at Peggy now. When was the last time you danced? When was the last time you acted silly together? When was the last time you were both happy? That was what hurt the most. You couldn’t even remember. It felt like a weird sort of deja vu except now, it was an actual woman instead of a picture on a compass. You tried to gather your pride and step away but you couldn’t, you were rooted into place, a sadistic part of you welcomed the pain because you should’ve known.

“I went in the ice in ‘45 right after I met the love of my life,”

You should’ve known.

But instead, you choose to play the fool.

There must’ve been a shift in the air that only they understood because Steve gathered her in his arms now, their eyes locking into each other, gentle and longing.

You'll never know how many dreams

I dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time

He rocked her back and forth, bringing her hand up to his chest, turning into action what words fail to describe. She closed her eyes and laid her head on his heart, savoring their moment. He leaned his head on hers too, a satisfied smile on both their faces as they continued to sway to the music. You had never felt as small as you did now. You felt like a thief, intruding on their moment, stealing his dream away. And that’s exactly what you were doing. That’s exactly what you are. You felt so dirty, a desperate, pathetic fly on the wall he couldn’t get rid of. And worst of all, you destroyed his trust too.

As if on cue, the colors started to change, the song distorting and shifting and in this moment you knew, you had to leave.

You have to leave.

Part Two

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steggy #the avengers #marvel #captain america

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