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vaaaaaiolet · 3 months ago

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Good thing your doctor's always on speed dial for your health scares, but can he help you out of this one?

gn / m, fluff, romance, hypochondriac reader, leon is your teledoc LMAO, denial of feelings / obliviousness, slightly ooc?? phone call transcript format in lowercase

word count: 1.2k // read on ao3

a/n: for @idyllcy + @hiya-itsamber :3

just a silly scenario i wrote in 2023 when those corny tiktok dual pov slideshows were a thing 😭 leon's dialogue is indented + in blue and nothing is proofread i fear

RINGING… [0:01]

[line connects.]

hi doc, I just wanted to call and tell you that I need to schedule an appointment tomorrow.

that’s awfully soon, I just saw you last week. what’s wrong?

what’s wrong? more like what isn’t wrong. honestly, I think I’d rather just schedule the appointment and not waste more of your time. are you free at 4 tomorrow?

my job is to ask you what’s wrong so I can fix it. cut out the middle man and tell me how you’ve been feeling. the poor receptionist needs a break anyway, flu season has her answering calls from her bathroom.

[nervous laughter.]

are you in the bathroom?

…

never mind that. do you have any new symptoms or have your old ones worsened?

this has to be against HIPAA or something, doc. I’m telling you, I’ll just call later.

[loud flushing sounds and tap water running.]

I’m still waiting.

have it your way then.

mhm.

I have so many symptoms, I don’t even know where to start. you know how I am about cleaning things and staying on top of my health. my chart last appointment was perfect!

minus the minor cold you had, yes. has your cold not improved?

I’m not sure. the congestion and coughing’s all disappeared, but now I have really bad headaches. and hot flashes.

headaches?

uh huh.

what are they like?

they’re…weird. they start in my head, but they spread, like, everywhere.

I see.

can you tell me more about how they spread? is it one big headache or a bunch of little ones at a time?

they start in my temples and if I don’t take medicine for them fast enough, they move down to the bridge of my nose and into my cheeks. I swear I can feel these headaches in my chest.

and that’s when I get these hot flashes. like someone’s microwaving me on high, and I get dizzy, and out of breath, and-

you get headaches in your chest?

in my chest! headaches aren’t supposed to do that right? it feels like my heart jumps. that’s not right, is it?

[sounds of pen scratching on paper.]

but the curious thing is that I’ve had these symptoms before. they’re not new.

huh? I thought they started right after your cold.

no no, it’s just that they go away when I have my appointments. I’ve been doing some research online and I think that right at the time you prescribe me my new medicine, they go away. it all lines up with the release time of the inhibi-

you worry too much. I’m sure it’s not that; none of the medicine I’ve ever given you lines up with your symptoms.

oh.

why didn’t you tell me this when you first started coming to our office? this is important information that needs to be added to your file.

but it really wasn’t that important-

you don’t understand. I need your entire medical history to assign you the right medicine.

I could have triggered some autoimmune disease, or, or, flared up more symptoms.

god, I should have done the bare minimum and checked with your nurse. Florence, is that her name? I need to make some calls. I’ll call you right back.

hey doc? you’re starting to sound like me. don’t worry, I’m coming in for my appointment anyway tomorrow. you don’t have to get all military about it.

you’re one of my first patients. I worry about you.

you do?

it’s my job to worry about you. i quite like my job.

that felt nice to hear.

it’s the truth.

the reason I didn’t tell you about it earlier is because I got a second opinion and I felt guilty about it. I felt like I was cheating on you, somehow.

[laughter.]

what part of your research gave you that idea? you don’t believe I can handle you seeing another healthcare professional?

it’s embarrassing! it wasn’t even a healthcare professional. it was my mom.

your mom counts as a second opinion?

she’s licensed in all matters of life.

I see.

…and the heart.

that so?

she told me it was mmmfmmf [unintelligible].

hm. I still need to hear about this incredibly important second opinion.

she told me I just had a silly crush. can you believe her?

and she might have a point, you know. how did she come to that conclusion?

she totally dismissed my hot flashes and told me that it was normal. same with my headaches and what i’m definitely sure is a developing heart arrhythmia.

that’s…interesting.

I get it, I thought the same thing you’re thinking right now. except she predicted a symptom I didn’t even have when I asked her.

and what symptom would that be?

insomnia! I can’t even sleep anymore. I stay up all night in bed, thinking.

and what do you think about?

to be honest, going back to the doctor’s office.

your office.

my office?

yeah. whenever I go to your appointments, my symptoms go away. it would be stupid to bring up my mom’s theory during checkups, so I’ve never said anything.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

your master plan is to keep getting sick and showing up to my office for 20 minutes a month?

well, it sounds stupid when you say it!

how long did you think this was going to last?

I don’t have a choice. it’s either this or nothing. 20 minutes with you taking my vitals is worth the aches and pains leading up to it because i feel so much better afterwards.

it just feels nice seeing you. i think it’s an environment trigger.

hey doc, you still there?

tell you what, I think you’re going to have to get that second opinion.

why would I do that? didn’t I just explain to you why I can’t? you’re the only one that makes my mysterious disease go away, and besides, there’s no such thing as a second second opinion.

listen to me. I can’t continue your current treatment anymore. it'd be breaking HIPAA to treat you like I need to because of the type of disease you have.

and to be honest, I don’t think it has a cure yet.

are you serious? how much do I need to pay for treatment? what’s my prognosis?

[clattering of pens on desk and line breaks up briefly from movement.]

[quietly.] doc, am I going to live?

[laughs.] you’ll live. I have no doubts about that.

well then, why can’t you treat me?

I can treat you. it’s just that I can’t as your doctor.

you’re not making any sense.

you’re still going to need to schedule that appointment for tomorrow, but it’ll have to be using a different phone number. call XXX-XXX-XXXX.

[furious pen scratching on paper.]

alright, and who am I asking for on the line?

ask for Leon. and dress nice.

that’s required for the appointment?

he has special conditions. it’s a quality of service thing.

…and you’ll be there with the doctor at the appointment?

[light laughter.]

I will.

okay, see you soon.

take care.

[line disconnects.]

CALL ENDED WITH: DR. L. KENNEDY M.D. [14:45]

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #vaaaaaiolet #ao3 fanfic

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exhaslo · 1 year ago

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Hiii i was wondering if you could do a miguel x cinnamon bun reader who’s a chubby baker and catches Miguel’s eye sometime when he was out as spiderman and decides to wife her up. And now that they’re together since she’s always baking at home miguel comes home to the smell of cinnamon buns and her as well who’s filled with flour on her face. You can make it smutty if you want, i was just thinking that this scenario was cute 😭😩

have a good dayyy

Crying bc I wrote like half of this before Tumblr froze and deleted everything so I gotta rewrite it again.

Anyway, this is a cute idea. It would be super adorable if Miguel didn't like sweets either...so...without further ado...Time to write again

Warning: None, just fluff, light mentions of sex

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You owned a small bakery in the middle of Nueva York. It was no surprise that the smell of your bakery would attract anyone walking down the block. The aroma of your desserts would attract even the most grumpiest of people.

You were working in the kitchen, sweating as you tried to perfect your latest batch of cupcakes. You took a look around at your workers, smiling as they had fun while making your desserts. You loved your job.

"Hm, I'll take whatever you recommend. I don't really like sweets." A voice from outside said.

Your ears perked up as you heard such a phase. Your curiosity got the best of you as you poked your head out of the kitchen. You saw two men at the counter with your cashier. One was giddy with joy, ordering a bunch of sweets while the other had a stern look at his face.

Slowly, you made your way behind your cashier, avoiding the tall man's gaze. He was handsome, but also somewhat scary. Pulling one of your not so sweet desserts, you carefully placed it in a cute box and slid it towards him on the counter.

"T-This is on the house. I...I hope you like it." You whispered, glancing up at him.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone but this idiot heard me." The man said while pointing at his companion.

"Migueeeel!"

"Thank you," Miguel said with a fanged smile.

You felt your cheeks flush as you rubbed your eyes. You had to be exhausted from working because you swore you saw fangs. Returning your gaze to the handsome man, you smiled as he took a bite. His eyes widen, licking his lips,

"It's good,"

Miguel was surprised by the delightful treat you gave him. He glanced towards you, caught off guard by the cute smile you gave him. He watched as you hurried into the kitchen, shaking with excitement. Unable to stop staring, Miguel looked back down at the dessert.

"Shall I get more of those for you~" Gabriel, Miguel's brother, said with a silly grin. Miguel nudged him away,

"No. I can get these myself."

----------

Miguel was swinging around the city, patrolling for any crime. He stopped, catching whiff of something ridiculously sweet. Disgruntled, he stoop and searched for the source of the smell. His shoulders sunk, spotting your bakery.

Perhaps you were working on a new recipe? Miguel made it a habit to stop by once a week. He enjoyed your company. You were different. Miguel was willing to try anything you gave him as long as it meant seeing your smile.

Sitting against the roof of the building, Miguel just sat there and watched you. You were hard working, helping every customer and your employees. He knew the struggle of managing a business. Hell, Miguel was technally in charge of two companies, if the Spider Society counted as one.

"Haha! She probably eats all her sweets! Look at her!" A rude teenager yelled as his obnoxious friends laughed alongside him.

"P-Please leave!" You begged.

Miguel stepped in once he saw tears form. He jumped onto the sidewalk and quietly walked behind you. His presence scaring the teenagers away. You whimpered, rubbing your eyes and sniffing before turning around and yelping.

"It's okay. I just scared them away," Miguel whispered, not wanting to spook you.

"Thank you," You whispered, still shaking. Miguel wanted to comfort you, but he knew this wasn't the right time or place,

"Don't let those kids get to you."

"I-I'm used to it...A chubby girl who owns a bakery. I hear it a lot." You whispered. Miguel grinded his teeth together,

"You're beautiful."

"Haha, thanks. That cheered me up," You said with that sweet smile of yours, "Here, let me give you a treat as thanks."

You hummed happily as you held Spiderman's hand, leading him into your bakery. Your customers were surprised, but went about their business. You looked behind the counter and took out one of your newest desserts, placing it in a cute box.

"I just made this, I hope you like it."

You watched as Spiderman's mask slowly disappeared revealing his lower half of his face. Your eyes widen as you saw fangs when he took a bite. Your smile widen as you thought of your regular Miguel, whom you liked.

"It's good." He said. You just giggled,

"Thank you."

--------

Miguel was determined to wife you up. He had started to stop by your bakery three times a week, chatting and getting to know you on a deeper level. Once he found out that you were single, he did not hesitate to ask you out.

Miguel wanted you. He was determined to protect you and keep his sweet little baker by his side. You were so sweet and cute that Miguel was having a hard time restraining himself. He wanted to swing you in his arms and make you his.

By your fifth date, Miguel kissed you. He held you close to him, enjoying your flushed cheeks and shy expression. He was your first for everything and Miguel was going to savior everything about that. He was going to enjoy giving you everything.

By your twelfth date, you admitted to him that you knew he was Spiderman. Miguel was slightly embarrassed, but felt a weight off his chest since he didn't have to hide it from you anymore. With his secret known to you, Miguel was able to give you even more affection due to his powers.

The first time you guys had sex, Miguel went overboard. He joked about you being his dessert for the night and ended up filling you like one of your cupcakes. He had to apologize to you, but you weren't complaining. It was the best night of your life.

Finally, after a few months, Miguel offered to have you move in with him. You were hesitate, but after some reassuring, you agreed. You were currently in your shared house, making a new recipe while waiting for Miguel to return from work.

"Mhm~ I wonder if my customers will like this~" You cooed, trying the cookies.

"Of course they will. You're the one making them," Miguel hummed as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Miguel~ You're home!" You chirped. Miguel kissed your neck, his hands groping your tummy,

"Missed you, baby. Couldn't stop thinking about you all day,"

"M-Miguel," You glanced away, feeling flustered, "D-Do you want to try my cookies?"

"Of course, but I'll be enjoying my cookies later," He whispered, groping your breasts.

"Miguel~"

Miguel chuckled lowly, capturing your lips in a kiss before willingly tried the cookie. He scrunched his face up, still not liking sweets, but told you that they were amazing.

You chuckled towards him, letting him know that you'll make some dinner. Miguel wanted to complain, saying something about feasting on you, but you managed to convince him to shower. You couldn't help but smile, happy that you found someone who loved you just the way you are.

"Oh, (Y/N), I've been meaning to ask," Miguel started as he came out of the shower, "Did you give Spider Chef a recipe for a Spiderman burger that looks like me?"

"..."

Miguel sighed heavily, "It's a best seller." He muttered,

"Yai~ I knew it~" You cheered happily.

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched you do your cute little cheer. You were defiantly going to make it up later. Miguel did think it was time for you to have little helpers after all.

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

Hehe, hope you enjoyed~

Part 2 (smut)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse

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schoenpepper · 1 month ago

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Topsy Turvy Table Games

Intro: A game of truth or dare is always fun when you can’t lie to your soulmate.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, shipping crumbs, not proofread, i think it’s more crack than fluff my bad, reader might be yuu because they know about teletubbies lol

A/N: It's like routine that I apologize for lame upload schedules, but I haven't been feeling too much like writing lately. I don't know, I keep getting distracted by random stuff. For @fsh1, on my event.

Masterlist

Unbirthday parties usually have croquet games and beheadings. It’s certainly a surprise when, one faithful afternoon, the party activities take a turn.

It started with a Magicam trend.

And as all Magicam trends go, Cater is caught up and wants to reenact the thing with the dorm members of Heartslabyul (“The more, the merrier!”). Riddle doesn’t find the concept all too interesting, but midterms had just finished, so his card soldiers look at him with pleading eyes and, well, he folds. It’s just a silly game anyway. If it pleases his dormmates (and you, his lovely soulmate) then he will oblige with said silly game.

“Truth or dare,” Cater places his phone down at the center of the table, “but the app decides what dare we do or what question we answer! The pool is like, totes random, so it’ll be fun, I promise~”

It is debatable whether or not it’s actually worth doing something that Cater deemed fun (to Riddle at least).

His doubts all fade away when he looks into your eyes.

Has that golden speck always been there? Maybe he’s just imagining it. But the way the corner of your lips curve into a smile; it makes his heart beat a familiar rhythm, one that he knows syncs with yours. “You may play,” he sighs in resignation, “but only because Y/N wants to, and I want to make them happy.”

And there’s the curse.

He blushes red as his hair, sipping at his tea furiously while attempting to ignore his dormmates’ badly hidden snickering. It was highly inconvenient when your mouth runs off in the presence of your soulmate, but Cater had happily declared that only dorm members with their soulmates present were allowed to participate in the game. Though it made sense, it was still quite the unsavory statement (both for him and those of his dorm that have yet to find their other half). He’s sat on his throne at the head of the table with you next to him on your own, heart-shaped throne the same color as his. Trey is sitting with Cater while the ADeuce duo are bickering as they’re crammed into one seat.

(Why are they even sharing a seat?)

“Is everyone good to go?!”

There’s loud yells of agreement from the crowd of rowdy teenage boys, and he glances at you when you shout with them. Cater’s voice is ringing in his ears, the taste of rose milk tea lingering on his tongue like the almond rose water cake-flavored kiss you’d shared with him in the gazebo last week.

“First is—”

He would’ve beheaded the person who came up with the idea of spinning his scepter on the table, had it not been you.

The crown points to Ace.

“Acey~!”

“Wah, me?! Hey no fair prefect, your spin sucked!”

“Ace, just be a good sport.”

“Oh shut up Juice, you’re only smug because you want to see me embarrass myself.”

“No I do not, you know I love you!”

Riddle sighs and Cater leans forward to tap on the phone. “Truth or dare, Ace? Hurry up.”

“Dare!”

The ginger junior reads out the prompt from his screen with a giggle, Trey holding out an arm to stop him from falling into the croquembouche, “Okay okay, you have to color your two front teeth with lipstick and leave it like that for the rest of the day.”

Cue laughter and screaming and Ace grumbling. Riddle has no clue where anyone found a tube of lipstick (is it expired?), but Ace ends up looking like he’d bled through his gums. Perhaps it’s luck that the scepter avoided him for several turns after that, when Trey was forced to try to peel a banana with only his teeth, some second year was made to drink water out of his shoe, and Cater talked about the time his sisters bought him lacy lingerie as a birthday present. In any case, luck ends at some point.

“Housewarden!” the crowd is practically vibrating, “Truth or dare?”

Riddle frowns, but he feels your hand gently patting his own, as if to soothe him. He rolls his eyes and answers, “Truth,” while warily eyeing his dormmate who was trembling in his soulmate’s arms after drinking out of his stinky leather shoes.

“Have you ever dressed up as the opposite sex?” Cater reads the prompt aloud before laughing, “nah, let’s get another one—”

“I have.”

Silence.

His friends are staring at him with their eyes wide, jaws slack.

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, trying desperately to hold back your laughter as you latch onto his arm, burying your face into his shoulder. Riddle clears his throat, trying to fan away the building heat of shame on his face as he replies, “Y/N bought me a, er, bunny maid costume last Easter…”

He really wished, now more than ever, that the ‘always telling the truth when near your soulmate’ thing could have an off switch.

As expected, they freak out at his words. Their ruckus causes such chaos that the plate of madeleines almost spills onto his lap, but he can’t find it in himself to do anything other than curl in on himself.

“And you wore it?!”

You perk up at the question and answer it for him.

“He did! He looked so adorable and I took at least fifty pictures. I ordered three more outfits for Halloween—” you cover your mouth in shock, looking at Riddle with a sheepish smile, “oops. That was supposed to be a surprise. Don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll look great as a Teletubby!”

“A what?!”

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader

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mochinomnoms · 1 year ago

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Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love.

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills.

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections.

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole.

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead.

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you.

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice.

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched.

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned.

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink.

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song.

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him.

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had.

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands.

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back.

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that.

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you.

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating.

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.”

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape.

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.”

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic:

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it.

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse.

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes.

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room.

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!”

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff.

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind.

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls.

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing.

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off.

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you.

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you.

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off.

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you.

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away.

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours.

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful.

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you.

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.”

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes.

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head.

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day.

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek.

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“��Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess.

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors.

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge.

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle.

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable.

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea.

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you?

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you.

“What if…he gets bored?”

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you.

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent.

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile.

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.”

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder.

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror.

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!”

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!”

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting.

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses.

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face.

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed.

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking visibly annoyed as he continued.

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead.

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form.

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin.

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart.

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate.

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own.

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth.

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #a floral inconvenience #big advocate for softie floyd leech #its what he deserves

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zujime · 9 months ago

Text

─── vi

cw. best friend’s ex! vi, fluff, implied fem reader (no pronouns used tho), acquaintances to lovers, (slight) slow burn, cuddles, sharing a bed, movie nights, pet names mentioned: princess, babe, hun, gorgeous.

note. a lil somthing i conjured up during my period insomnia :)) I'm running on one hour of sleep ya'll mrgh... anyway, should i make another part?

best friend’s ex! vi who you only ever saw in passing when she was still with your bestie. why they broke up was always a topic your friend never really expanded upon but they got off on somewhat good terms—though you do recall the prolonged stares vi would give you when she’d come by.

best friend’s ex! vi who you happened to stumble upon when going to get your lunch at the cafe that was across from your job right after you finished your shift. you remember hearing that she wasn’t really a fan of the food here because “the food ’s just glorified hospital food”, though the silly jab at her comment is caught in your throat when she greets you; silver eyes soft as they flicker between your eyes, scarred lips curling into a shy smirk as the velvety soft sound of her voice reaches your ears.

best friend’s ex! vi who you gave your number to after that same encounter to keep in touch—she’d text you during your breaks to ask silly questions and take your mind off work stress and later call you after your shifts end. and those calls end up lasting far longer than intended, either up until someone falls asleep or till someone’s phone dies.

best friend’s ex! vi who takes three weeks to ask if you wanna hang out, you know, as friends? inviting you over for a movie night at her place on your day off to watch the movies you’d been dying to watch but never got around to. you were able to get through the first two but as soon as the third movie started, you began nodding off before vi felt your head softly fall onto her taut shoulder—your lashes ghosting the exposed skin as you slept peacefully, drooling a little.

best friend’s ex! vi who chuckles slightly at the sight and at the warm, heart-swelling feeling you give her whenever you call, text—hell, whenever she sees your face. she turns the tv off before picking you up and tucking you in her bed before she goes to sleep on the couch.

best friend’s ex! vi who you wake up and walk down the hall to see laid out on the couch, limbs hanging off the couch from under the soft blanket she had on—low mumbles could be heard from her sleeping form, faint yet audible, though they’re cut short as she stretches and slides a hand over her face in hopes of wiping away the sleep, eyelids heavy as she peers at you.

“how long have you been watching me?” her voice still carried the taunt with a softness as she spoke groggily. you feel your face grow warm at her question, despite it being a tease but you brush it off and thank her for letting you stay the night even though none of you intended to have a sleepover. she hums in response before getting up off the couch. “it was like—three in the morning—and i am not some asshole who would’ve just let you go home alone, princess.” the pet name slid so effortlessly off her tongue as she passed by you, to go shower.

best friend’s ex! vi who you find yourself hanging out with more and more, and the pet names she’d give you only seemed to grow—not like you had a problem with it. she’d call you things like babe, princess, and hun far more than she’d ever say your actual name, she even calls you gorgeous, though rather sparingly because sometimes she feels like she’s going a little too far.

best friend’s ex! vi who you refuse to tell your bestie about every time she asks what you’re thinking about whenever you zone out during your monthly outings.

“what’s with that face?” she inquires, giggling a bit at the shamelessly lovesick expression you wore. “what face? what’re you talking about?” you snap back to reality, eyeing your friend anxiously as you listen to her response. “you know, that face people make in those really cheesy romcoms from the 2000s when they’d just met the love of their life or something…” she trailed off, now squinting at you in suspicion. “...are you seeing someone?” “...” “hello?!” “girl, no! i’m thinking about when imma get my mfing food.”

best friend’s ex! vi who you practically live with at this point—because of how often you two have sleepovers, she has a majority of your belongings all around her apartment; your clothes in her closet and dresser, your extra toothbrush and hair products, fav foods/snacks and drinks in the fridge, etc. though, she still insists on sleeping on the couch whenever you stay over despite you stating you have no problem sharing the bed. eventually, she caved—reluctant at first as she squirmed under the comforter to get comfortable beside you until she finally was able to fall asleep.

best friend’s ex! vi who at first when sharing the bed with you, would often wake up to make sure she wasn’t crowding your space or being touchy in any way. but the moment she woke up to your arms draped over her frame, she softened and decided to just let herself sleep—burying her face in the crook of your neck and holding you close as she slept, yet she still tries to be mindful of her movement so she doesn’t wake you.

best friend’s ex! vi who you realize is a huge sucker for physical affection. oftentimes brushing her hand against yours in hopes of holding it but hesitantly refraining from interlocking fingers when in public. and when the two of you are alone, she desperately leans into whatever you give her—head scratches, movie night cuddles, pinky holding, tracing her tattoos with your fingers, anything.

best friend’s ex! vi who realizes she has feelings for you during one of your typical movie nights, but the look you gave her when the movie ended—eyes reflecting the television screen so prettily as you tilt your head slightly to peer up at her before speaking, but whatever it was you said had completely gone through one ear and out the other as the skin of her ears slowly became a deep red.

"fuck." was the only thought that crossed her mind as she stared at your soft eyes. "vi?" you murmur, a little worried at the expression she wore. but she abruptly stands up before excusing herself and heading to the bathroom.

best friend’s ex! vi who you spent the last few days worrying about—is she ok? is she sick? did you make her uncomfortable? thoughts seemed to race through your head endlessly until she asks if you could come over real quick, through a text.

best friend’s ex! vi who—despite having met multiple people before—gets nervous when you step foot in her apartment. in her eyes, the feeling of her words falling messily from her lips as she spills her guts to you feels weird. but when you creep close to her—lips mere inches from hers as your breaths mingled and eyes heavy-lidded—that feeling dissipates.

best friend’s ex! vi who gets lost in the sea that is your lips as you drown in the feelings she was too scared to show you. callous hands slotting themselves needily on each side of your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss with every shared breath, begging never to part. almost as if accepting her request, you rest a hand against hers, smiling into the searing kiss before finally pulling away for air and softly gazing up at her silver orbs.

#reader insert #arcane #arcane vi #arcane violet #arcane imagines #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi imagine #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #fluff #arcane fluff #vi fluff #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

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Physics V

By popular opinion, we have another installment of our college friends studying together. Please read the rest here: Physics, or if you don't feel like it, I left them just about to have hot chocolate and watch a movie.

You know me, this a bit of a mess and all over the place. I hope you like it anyway. It's been another tough week and honestly I don't see the following weeks getting much better. This was pretty therapeutic for me and I think it's cute even if it's a lot. Sorry for venting and ranting. Thank you for reading.

All fluff

4.4k words

Studying, physics, decorating, coffee, and hot chocolate... she was confident in these areas of her life. Confident that she knew what she was talking about. Harry, boys, and flirting...she wasn’t the least bit confident.

Her heart was thudding so loudly in her chest she could hardly hear the movie. She was a bit worried that Harry could hear how embarrassingly loud her heart was beating beside him. What movie did she even pick? Did she even pick it? If Harry picked it, she was going to have to excuse herself to use the bathroom and Google the plot so as not to embarrass herself further because she hadn’t a clue what had happened in the last half hour.

The middle cushion left a sizable distance between them, and all Harry could think about was how much he wanted to pull her across the desert of space between them, lay her across the length of the sofa, and kiss her until he forgot why he was even there. Harry watched the movie intently so he wouldn’t stare at her the whole time. He reached for the hot chocolate on the coffee table just so he would have something to do (and so he could get a longer glimpse of her pretty being at the other end of the couch).

He smiled softly. “Have y’seen this one?” He asked.

She shook her head. If she had, it wasn’t like she remembered it anyway. Not with Harry’s aura invading all her thoughts and making her forget her own name. “No...”

“Me either.” She was intently focused on her TV screen which gave Harry just a moment to gaze at her without being suspicious. The hot chocolate tasted extra good. Part of him thought it was merely because she was the one who made it. “Secret recipe?” He asked, putting the mug back on the coffee table.

A small smile played at her lips and Harry truly thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his whole life. “Uh...just add a hint of cinnamon.”

“S’really good.”

“I love hot chocolate,” she explained. “Have you ever seen those hot chocolate bars?” She asked. “Like on TikTok or Pinterest? Er...You probably don’t have Pinterest,” she backtracked. “Anyway...” she felt herself rambling and Harry was looking at her like she wasn’t. Like what she was saying was interesting and she wasn’t talking about something so silly.

“I haven’t, kitten,” his voice was so gentle. “Show me,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “No...s’nothing special. It’s just a bunch of little jars and things and you put it on the counter or a little bar cart or something...I don’t know. I think they’re cute.”

“They sound cute,” he said encouragingly hoping she would change her mind. She wouldn’t budge though.

“Um...maybe another time. I don’t want to interrupt the movie.” Harry nodded. His phone continued to vibrate on the coffee table beside his hot chocolate. He flipped it over, so the screen was faced down. “Are you sure you’re not needed elsewhere? I know we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, I wouldn’t want to take you away from your friends or whatever. I’m sure they have way better plans than a Christmas movie a month earlier than should be watched.”

Harry smirked to himself shaking his head, keeping his eyes on the movie. “No, love,” he said simply. “M’fine here, s’long as y’don’t mind m’company,” he didn’t look at her because he didn’t want to make her feel awkward; just in case she did want him to leave.

“I just know that I’m a little boring and I know you’re usually at parties and—”

“How do y’know that?” He smirked. He reached for the remote between their hot chocolate mugs and paused the movie before turning to look at her again.

Harry could see right through her, she was sure. Studying, physics, decorating, coffee, and hot chocolate... she was confident in these areas of her life. Confident that she knew what she was talking about. Harry, boys, and flirting...she wasn’t the least bit confident. Harry was this beautiful, perfect guy that every single girl on campus couldn’t stop talking about whenever he passed by. In the library she heard hushed whispers of Harry at parties with his friends. On a jog around campus, she heard girls swooning about him and how he was really good at beer pong. For Halloween he and his friends dressed up as firefighters and it was literally all anyone could talk about.

She blushed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Just hear things.”

He smiled, tilted his head at her in appreciation. “M’rather enjoying this evening,” he said softly. “S’nice t’relax and hang out with you.”

It felt way too good to be true.

Eventually their attention turned back to the movie. Then a second movie. Now it was nearing ten PM, and her eyes were burning a bit from the screen. Harry had gone to the bathroom while she cleaned up the hot chocolate mugs. She yawned, flopping back into her seat on the couch and Harry returned falling into his own spot. It felt odd he had his own spot already. She believed it was his and she thought maybe when he left, she would sit in it, just to soak up the heavenly scent of his cologne.

“D’you want t’watch another?” He asked.

She wanted to sleep but there was no way she was going to tell Harry to leave willingly. He would have to go on his own. She nodded. “Sure,” she said. “Can I get you anything?” She asked.

He shook his head. “M’fine, kitten,” he smiled sweetly.

But it was the third movie that did them in. Both fell asleep before even halfway through it. Her TV was set on a timer, so it turned off at one in the morning if it was on. But when Harry woke up in the dark room (except for the beautiful tree illuminating a gentle glow over her apartment) and looked at his phone, he saw it was almost two thirty in the morning.

Blinking against the brightness of his screen he turned his attention to the pretty girl snuggled in the corner of her sofa. He pulled one blanket off the back of the seat and rested it over her. He watched her sigh with relief as she nuzzled deeper into the back cushion. Harry didn’t want to leave her. Especially not alone on the couch. The lights from the tree created a golden effect and cast over her. Harry thought she was beautiful anyway, but this made him want to kneel before her and stare at her until his eyes fell out of his head.

But he didn’t want the tree to catch on fire either. He quietly unplugged it, making her apartment completely dark, and he fell back into the other end of her couch. Pulling another blanket around himself, he fell asleep almost immediately, that stretch of a couch cushion desert still aching him to the bone as it mocked him from between them.

“Shut. Up,” she hissed.

“You’re making Harry Styles pancakes, you’re so fucking stupid,” another voice whispered. “He fell asleep on our couch. Do you know how many girls would kill to be you?”

Harry could smell something sweet and assumed it had to be pancakes based on the conversation he heard so far. He smirked to himself. The sofa was warm and comfy. He wished she hadn’t left because he would have loved to see her expression when he woke up. The apartment was warm, and it felt like Christmas. Or maybe it was just because she seemed to be the embodiment of all good things like Christmas and it made him warm that way.

“Can you be quiet? You’re going to wake him,” she whispered. It was early. Harry hadn’t a chance to look at his phone yet but it was cold and felt like the sun had hardly risen.

“Babe,” the other girl sounded exhausted. “You have Harry Styles on your couch right now. He stayed in on a Friday night to decorate, watch Christmas movies, and drink hot chocolate with you. It’s a date.”

Harry’s heart was fluttering against his ribs. It felt so childish and silly, but he liked it. “I’m just tutoring him.”

“In what? Falling in love? Pancakes will seal the deal. I fell in love with you the first time you made pancakes. Pretty sure Mitch would leave me for your pancakes, and I can’t say I blame him.”

“They’re not even that special.”

“Oh my God.”

Harry needed to make some kind of indication that he was awake, but he didn’t know how. Fortunately, there was a knock on the door. Harry took that as his cue and yawned in exaggeration as he headed to the door. He rubbed his hand into his eye.

He could sense two pairs of eyes on his back as he headed to the door. “I told you she wouldn’t kill him,” Niall said as the door was pulled out of the way. “Louis was worried,” Niall said stepping around Harry.

“Please, come in,” Harry grumbled. Louis marched right past Harry and the poor girl looked so stunned he thought she might cry.

“It smells so good in here,” Louis remarked. “Hey love,” he waved to the sweet girl who looked utterly confused and nervous in the kitchen doorway.

“Uh...hi,” she said softly waving awkwardly back.

Niall dropped a bag on the sofa. “Louis was worried you may have killed Harry. Not that we’d blame you, darling. Can’t imagine having to tutor this sorry sap,” he explained.

Harry rolled his eyes and peeked in the bag to find an array of clothing and toiletries. He was a little grateful that Niall and Louis knew he would need it at the very least. Even if it was a bit forward. Harry finally took notice of how adorable she looked once more. She had changed her clothes. She wore cozy leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. All he wanted was to wrap her in his arms and kiss her until the end of time. “Sorry for just barging over, love,” Louis said. “But we just wanted to rescue you if Harry was bothering you...plus if you did kill him that would make our life a bit harder since his name is on the lease. Not that we’d blame you, of course. I love your Christmas decorations. It’s so nice and cozy in here.”

“I’m Sarah,” the other girl offered; trying to help the poor thing. She looked so rattled Harry wanted to scoop her into his arms and protect her from his friends and their annoying, silly, banter.

“D-do you all want pancakes?” She asked.

“Oh, is that what smells so good? Yes, please, darling,” Niall said excitedly and dropped onto the couch like he had been here a thousand times. But that was her spot and Harry didn’t like Niall sitting there. Where were the two of them going to sit?

“May as well call Mitch and get him over here,” Sarah smiled with unadulterated enjoyment in her eyes as she pressed her phone to her ear.

“Okay...um...I’ll be right back,” she said hurrying back to the kitchen.

Harry glared at his friends. “You’re both insane,” he grumbled and followed her and the scent of pancakes. She was dropping batter into the middle of a griddle spread across two of the stovetop elements. He couldn’t deny his friends were right. It smelled heavenly in the kitchen. “M’sorry, kitten,” he said quickly.

“What for? It’s nice your friends came looking for you,” she smiled. “Pancakes are easy for a crowd too,” she promised.

He sighed. She was a literal delight, and he didn’t deserve that. “I can have us all leave. I’ve obviously overstayed m’welcome. And s’rude of them t’invite themselves over,” he explained. “Does it bother Sarah?”

She shook her head. “It’s really no trouble at all. Sarah doesn’t mind in the slightest. She was just coming to check on me and things. She was...surprised to see you,” she shrugged.

“Love, I told you you’re supposed to text me if you’re making pancakes!” A new voice shouted from the other room. Sarah walked by her and Harry, rolling her eyes at the sound of her boyfriend.

“These pancakes must be something,” Harry grinned sweetly.

“I guess, I just put vanilla extract in them. And sometimes I add syrup to the batter,” she shrugged. “It’s not really a secret,” but Harry thought that maybe, much like her hot chocolate, it simply tasted better because she made it and did it with so much affection for her friends and essentially strangers.

“Well thank you, kitten,” he said kindly.

She nodded. “I...I have to go to the bookstore from nine to two. You can stay here until then if you’d like. Sarah can give you a key or something if she and Mitch leave.”

Harry was a little take aback that she really was going to just leave Harry and his friends alone in her pretty Christmassy apartment. He bit the inside of his lip. “Yeah?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged.

“I jus’ have t’run a few errands...but I bet I’ll beat y’back here,” he told her watching her movements so effortlessly in front of the stove. The entire time she was flipping pancakes and cutting up fruit to go with it. She grabbed plates, whipped cream, and syrup. “Well, maybe we’ll never leave,” he smiled softly.

Biting the inside of her lip she smiled to herself. Because honestly, that didn’t sound so bad. “You’re welcome to shower if you want. Just have Sarah turn on the water for you. The lever is a little tricky when you first use it.”

Harry was sad to find she had left while he was in the shower. So maybe it wasn’t as early as he thought it was—he still hadn’t looked at his phone. Everyone was silent as they stuffed their faces with fruit and pancakes. Niall kept making obscene moaning noises.

“If you don’t ask her out, I will,” he groaned.

Harry glared at him. Sarah and Mitch smirked knowingly at one another as they ate silently. “Harry has been over the moon about his new tutor,” Louis told Sarah. It felt like Louis and Niall were talking about their son to his potential girlfriend’s parents. It was so embarrassing. “He has hope he’ll pass now. He couldn’t stop talking about her.”

“Thank you,” Harry grumbled around the fluffiest, yummiest pancake he had ever eaten. It was even difficult to feign his annoyance at his friends.

Sarah smiled with that same unadulterated pleasure she had before. “She’s really excited too,” she promised.

“She’s pretty busy,” Niall remarked.

Mitch nodded. “She likes to be busy,” he shrugged.

Harry kept a silent note of that in his mind. “Louis, Niall, will you do the dishes?” Harry asked.

“Aw, Dad, do we have to?” Louis whined.

He rolled his eyes. “Spotless, when I get back.”

She was refolding T-shirts and putting away sweatshirts back on the right racks when the ping of the bookstore door signaled that someone was entering. She glanced at her watch to see that it was almost fifteen minutes before close. She knew she should have put the closed sign up and the metal grate down before she started on the returns. All she wanted to do was go back to her apartment and hope that Harry really was still there.

“Hey beautiful,” his perfect, honey-warmed voice called. She dropped the textbook she was bringing back to it’s spot. Narrowly avoiding her foot with it’s heavy weight.

“Oh,” she blinked. “Hi Harry.”

“Hi, kitten. Sorry t’scare you... Thought y’might want a ride back since s’cold out,” he smiled spinning his ring of keys around his index finger. She blinked.

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to go out of your way...or mess up your plans,” she blushed bending to grab the textbook.

He shook his head. “No way, love. Jus’ wanted t’make sure y’weren’t cold. No plans except t’study with you,” he smiled. “Those pancakes were amazing. M’sorry I missed y’leaving.”

She was so stunned by him appearing out of nowhere and once more just being so...nice. She felt her insides turning into mush and her brain was glitching out. How was she supposed to continue tutoring him when he was so utterly breathtaking? Just his kind nature made her speechless.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry I didn’t get to—”

“Niall and Louis cleaned up for you, too.”

“They didn’t need to—”

“Of course, they did, kitten. Y’fed them. S’the least they could do actually.”

She was worried if she spoke again he would interrupt her and she was officially out of things to say. “Um...” she slid the book back onto the shelf with the ones that looked just like it. “I just have to...do a few more things until close.”

“I’ll be here,” he said wandering the aisles looking at things. “Won’t touch anything either,” he promised with a wink. “Can’t remember the last time I was in here,” he murmured.

She bit the inside of her lip and as he meandered and headed to the gate to close, finally. As she pulled the gate down, there was a group of girls who caught sight of the brown curls that were looking at the array of clothing for parents. “Hey kitten?” He called. The group turned to the sound of his voice. One practically gasped. Another gaped openly as they realized Harry was talking to her.

“Yeah?” She called back sounding so unsure.

“D’you think m’mum would actually like this?” He asked holding up a long sleeve shirt with the college’s name, logo, and “Mom” written on the front. “Like would y’get this for your mum?” He asked.

She could feel their gazes on her and she knew they were thinking that it was insane that Harry was talking to her. “Um...I would probably just get her a regular item. I think the mom ones are a little...on the nose?” She explained.

He smiled. “Got it,” Harry carefully folded the shirt and placed it back just as he found it.

“Hey Harry!” One girl called from the gate. “Missed you at the party last night!”

Harry winked at her as he walked toward the gate. She didn’t pay any mind to their conversation, knowing they were taking turns staring at her while Harry stood caged in from them.

After she finished all the closing tasks she grabbed her purse and put it across her body before she slowly walked toward Harry touching up the displays as she went to escape them. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Probably not,” he shrugged. “M’really focusing on m’physics class,” he explained. “I need all the help I can get...right, kitten?”

Part of her felt stupid for answering to the little pet name as if it were her own. But she couldn’t help but turn to the sound of his voice calling her the name and then meeting ten pairs of eyes—eight of which were glaring at her. Two of which were so green and so gentle.

“You’re not so bad,” she murmured.

“Sorry ladies,” he shrugged. “Maybe next weekend. Ready, love?” He asked turning his back to the group who continued to stare at him and glare at her.

Was she ready to get out of there? Yes. Very much so.

Harry let her walk in first and closed the door behind him. She kicked her shoes off and headed to the kitchen. She needed a glass of water before they started studying. Sarah already texted her to let her know that someone told someone told someone that Harry wasn’t going out in favor of studying with some girl.

When he asked her if she could tutor, the entire dining hall stared at her as if they had never seen her before—like she appeared from thin air the moment Harry talked to her. Now they heard Harry call her sweet names and ditch his party habits all because he had to study. On a Saturday.

Harry stood in the middle of the sitting room waiting for her reaction—whatever it would be. She returned silently—sans water. Her eyes were huge. Harry smiled kindly.

“Everything alright, kitten?” He asked.

“You...” she stared at him. “You... made me a hot chocolate bar?”

Harry shrugged. “S’least I can do,” he looked a little surprised. He didn’t understand her confusion. This seemed only natural that he would do this. It seemed obvious to him that he was...infatuated with her so readily, easily. How could he be anything but? She was intelligent, beautiful, and utterly kind. The embodiment of happiness and holidays.

She returned to the kitchen to look at the tray set up on the counter. There were mason jars of varying sizes. Displayed perfectly. Marshmallows, chocolate chips, candy canes, little wooden scoops, cookies, sprinkles. It looked like Harry had raided the entire display of Christmas goodies at Target.

The anxiety she felt from Harry being so nice was overwhelming. “Y-you didn’t have to do that,” there was a lump in her throat. It was just so nice she could feel tears threatening, aching in the back of her eyes.

“Kitten?” He asked gently.

She didn’t want to look at him. She wanted to stare at the kind gesture he had so thoughtfully made while she was at work. Seeing the dishes were done from breakfast too...by his friends. Everything about Harry was unlike any guy she had ever met.

But...he was so...him. He was nothing like her. He was confident, gorgeous, funny, and sweet. He probably dated girls that could drink her under the table. Or wouldn’t mind kissing him in front of an entire party. Who could blame them really? Harry had lips that deserved to be kissed every moment of the day. He looked like he should be kissed in front of audiences simply because he was too beautiful not to be. She was certain the group of girls outside the bookstore would kiss him without a care in the world.

He would never, ever want to kiss or be around someone that had her nose stuck in a physics book and could hardly talk to a guy without rambling or feeling awkward.

“Thank you,” she murmured politely. The words came out breathlessly because if she added any volume she would have resorted to tears and Harry would someone comfort her and make her feel even worse than she already did about the whole predicament.

“Are y’alright, love?” He asked, concern dripped in his voice. He reached out like he was going to touch her back but stopped before his hand got to her.

She nodded silently, unable to look away from the little ribbons tied like perfectly wrapped presents around the mason jars. “Uh...yeah. Do you want to study?” She cleared her throat.

He frowned. “Um...sure.”

She felt like she lost some game that she didn’t even know she was playing.

Harry watched her leaving the kitchen and felt so lost. Was it not obvious that he adored her? The hot chocolate bar was hardly anything in comparison to what she deserved. Right as she crossed the threshold, he grabbed her hand and tugged her back toward him. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked.

She shook her head, not looking up at his eyes. “No! Of course not, Harry.”

“Y’seem...sad...I made a chocolate bar for you,” he pouted.

Sighing, she tried not to think about the electric feeling of Harry’s hand in hers. It made her nervous that her hand was starting to sweat immediately. He hadn’t done anything. He skimmed his thumb along the back of it. “It’s...” she swallowed thickly avoiding his gaze. “It’s so nice, Harry,” she whispered.

“Then why—”

“I just...don’t want to fall for you,” she explained.

He dropped her hand like it hurt her. She ached to hold his hand again. It was so unfair. “Oh.”

The silence was deafening. “I understand if you don’t want me to tutor you,” she bit the inside of her lip.

“Kitten, you’re literally m’only hope,” he reminded her. “If y’don’t want to, though...s’fine. I’ll figure it out. M’not your responsibility. I can always go on YouTube—”

She shook her head. “No,” she swallowed. “That’s not what I want,” she promised. “Really—”

“Love,” he brought a hand to her face and brushed his thumb across her lips. Her sentence was no longer in her mind. Everything was gone. She only knew Harry’s name, the color green, and that his thumb was touching her lips.

“You’re way too cool and hot and confident for me,” she whispered. All he had to do was look at her. It was like a magic spell. The words fell out of her. His cologne was surely a potion. Throwing all coherent thought out of her mind. She wasn’t an upperclassmen physics student. She was a dumb girl infatuated with a guy that was way too good for her.

“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. “I...” his unfairly tanned cheeks turned the most beautiful, rosy pink. Like someone put makeup on him. “You’re...you’re much too hard on yourself. You’re way too good for me. Gorgeous, intelligent, kind...” he shook his head. “You’re the whole package, love.” Her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest. Of course, his cologne was sending her into a fog of confusion and only thoughts of Harry. “Kitten,” he cooed. “M’not saying this jus’ because I desperately want...no need you t’fall for me...but if y’like someone...”

“Harry, those girls are the ones you deserve—” her voice cracked with the idea that Harry needed her for anything.

“M’so out of your league,” he chuckled. “Maybe y’shouldn’t fall for me,” he winked. “But...isn’t... there a basic Law of Attraction in Physics?” He asked.

“Harry, that’s from like week one of Physics I.”

“Kitten, m’trying t’flirt on your level. Will you...?” Her lips felt glued shut. “Any particular force that draw two objects together?” She nodded mutely. “Think we have a particular force here,” he caught one of his fingers through her front belt loop and pulled her toward him. Her whole body was on fire. There was a clean sink behind her. A hot chocolate bar on her counter.

And Harry was enacting a force of attraction on her that she never would have dreamed of as he tilted his head and locked his gaze on her lips.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #college!harry #physics

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padfootagain · 1 year ago

Text

Some Perfect Bloopers

Hello! Today, we are answering a request by @thenerdysimp : ‘I just had another idea, and I don’t know if you’ve done something like this already but I’d like to request it anyway.

I know you’ve done one where she surprises Ben on his birthday but I was thinking that maybe she just randomly for no reason in particular surprises him on set of shadow and bone. Like she has talked to the crew and the cast telling them that she is coming so that they are in on the surprise. She has contact with Jessie or someone and they tell her when Ben is filming a scene so she can walk on set to get a good clip of him getting distracted by her for the bloopers or something. It’s all just a cute surprise reunion🥰’

Hope you enjoy what I’ve prepared for your request!

I hope everybody enjoys this little piece of pure cuteness! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: Unbearable cuteness and tooth-rotting fluff

Summary: The cast of SaB and you organise a surprise for Ben: you’re coming to Hungary without warning and surprise him on set. Of course, the camera’s rolling, it will make some amazing bloopers…

Word Count: 1845

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You were nervous, even if there were no reasons for you to be.

There was still a lump in your throat, a twist at the pit of your stomach. You rubbed your clammy hands on your dark jeans, before climbing out of your cab, staring at the large building where the Shadow and Bone cast was working…

You had come in Hungary a couple of times while Ben was working on the first season of his show, but the view of the large building was still impressive.

You thanked the taxi driver as he helped you with your large suitcase, paid for your ride. You had barely turned around that Kaz Brekker was appearing behind you, only, Freddy’s version was wearing a large grin.

“Y/N!”

You laughed at his warm welcome, giving Freddy a hug. It was still a little strange to see him in full costume.

“Wow, look at you, mister Brekker!” you joked. “A true Crow!”

“Thanks! Luckily for us all, even after a couple of years, I still got it!”

You laughed, and Freddy picked up your heavy bag while you dragged your suitcase towards the building. You would be staying for three full weeks, so your luggage was rather heavy.

“How was your flight? Everything went fine?” Freddy asked, holding the door for you.

“Thanks. Yes, it was alright. Just… exhausting, but it all went smoothly.”

“You could take a nap for a few hours and see Ben this afternoon…”

But he laughed as he caught your eyes.

“Absolutely not. I haven’t seen him in seven weeks, I don’t care about not sleeping for three days to see him if I have to!”

Freddy laughed hard at that, raising a soothing hand, the black glove shining slightly under the artificial light of the hall.

“Alright, alright. Well, Ben is filming in area B today, I’ll get you there. You’ll have to hide with the make-up team for about half an hour, they’re doing a scene that’s a bit too technical to waste time on it for now. But then, Jessie and Ben have some heavy dialogue to go through, it’ll be better suited for our devilish plan.”

“Heavy dialogue?” you laughed, and Freddy soon joined you.

“Well, it gets kind of heavy when characters want to kill each other all the damn time.”

“True, true…”

Freddy hid you away in the make-up department, and you spent some time chatting with a couple of artists you had met before, waiting for one of the Crows to come and pick you up. The planned half-an-hour turned into a full hour, but you didn’t mind waiting. What you minded was the way your heart raced in your chest as Kit appeared by the door.

He rushed to hug you first, but you were surprised to find the whole gang waiting for you in the corridor.

“What are you all doing here?” you asked, hugging Calahan.

“Do you really thing that we would miss Ben’s face when he sees you? Absolutely not!”

You chuckled at their silliness, but were glad to accept their company as you walked across the building to reach the large hangar where the set had been built.

Ben was shooting a scene in some kind of cave, filled with parchments, torches and old wooden tables.

Everyone was in on the prank, and you wondered how they had managed to keep Ben in the dark. Even the director waved and shot you a mischievous wink when you walked in.

You easily hid behind Calahan’s large shoulders to walk in the room unnoticed, and remained quiet as Ben and Jessie finished their scene, a mix of anger and seduction. Ben was facing you, but he was deep in character and barely noticed the large group coming in. You were, for the most part, hidden in the shadows anyway.

You loved watching him work. He was impressive like this, in a dark kefta, with scars across his face, in full make-up and costume. His voice was deeper than usual, firm and threatening, a tone you weren’t used to hear coming from such a sweet man. He still looked mesmerizing though, oozing charms and something magnetic that made you want to run to him as soon as you saw him. He was talented enough to make you feel as threatened as Alina would have been if this were real.

The loud Cut! rang through the room, and you hid more carefully behind Calahan, making sure Ben wouldn’t notice you if he looked up.

And he did. He frowned hard at the sight of the entire group standing there, behind the cameras.

“Hi!” he laughed, Jessie turning towards the crows as well.

But if Ben seemed puzzled, Jessie couldn’t refrain an excited grin.

“What are you all doing here?” Ben asked, frowning.

“We’ve come take a look!” Freddy answered.

“And we’re waiting for you to go to lunch. Hurry up! We’re starving!” lied Amita.

You were struggling hard not to laugh, imagining Ben’s face as he let out an amused chuckle.

“Alright, alright,” he shrugged, used to his co-stars’ silliness.

Archie thought it would be hilarious to tease you some more and started poking at your arm. You almost choked as you swatted his hand away, and Ben seemed to notice the laughter Archie was trying to hold back.

“What are you all planning now?” Ben asked slowly, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Nothing…”

The director faked to check something on the screen, before interrupting the group’s banter.

“It was very good, both of you. But I think we should try to move the camera differently. We’ll do the same scene again, just to get another angle.”

“Should we change our marks?” Ben asked.

“No, no, no. We’ll just change the movement of the camera to catch the light differently. Just play the same thing again.”

Ben and Jessie were given a few seconds to fall back into character, before the camera was rolling again.

And that was your moment to strike.

Ben was focused on Jessie, speaking in a slow, half-seducing and half-threatening tone. He didn’t notice at first that everyone was moving away to let you pass through. He was bothered by the movements beyond Jessie, but he was too focused to realise what was happening. Only when you stepped before the whole group did he start losing focus. Because there was a patch of colour, there, beyond Jessie’s shoulder, that was the exact hue of his favourite shirt of yours…

He couldn’t help but blink and look up, just for a second, but then…

… it lasted but an instant and yet he was almost certain that he had seen your shirt and… you… wearing it…

He did a double-take, blinking a few times more while doubt clouded his mind and he lost track of his piece of dialogue, and looked up again, his gaze lingering on your frame this time.

His mouth fell open and he completely silent.

You… You were there…

Jessie started laughing, moving out of the way, while everyone exploded with laughter, while realization slowly sank in Ben’s mind.

He closed his eyes tightly, a grin breaking across his features as he buried his face in both his hands.

You walked closer, chuckling and grinning even though you had tears in your eyes. After all… you had missed him so much.

He bent over for a couple of seconds, before standing straighter again.

“SURPRISE!” Jessie started the shout, but everyone in the room joined in.

Ben looked up, standing straighter again. He finally lowered his hands, and he walked towards you, closing the distance between the two of you in an instant. You welcomed him with open arms and he held you tight, his face immediately buried in your hair.

“What are you doing here?!” he asked, throat tight with emotion, but there was also so much joy in his tone, such a bright smile on his face…

“I’m here to see you, obviously.”

“How long?”

“Three weeks.”

You breathed in his perfume, your nose pressed to his shoulder, before he would pull away just enough to look at you. He was grinning and crying at the same time, and so were you.

“Three weeks?!” he asked, taken aback. “And you haven’t told me anything?”

“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I had, would it?”

“And everyone knew, I suppose.”

“I had my accomplices.”

He let out a bright laugh, holding you close again.

People started cheering, and Ben seemed to remember where he was, where he stood, that he was surrounded by his colleagues and was not, in fact, alone with you.

He blushed fiercely, pulling away. But then again, you looked so beautiful, and your smile was so bright, and your lips were so tempting, and he had missed you so much…

Damn be the whole crew. Damn be the teasing he would earn from this. Damn be every single one of his castmates for clearly being in on it.

Damn be the rest of the world, of the Universe even, when you stood there, before him, after so many weeks spent apart, when a mere hour already seemed way too much to be spent without you.

He stared into your eyes again, hands moving from around you to hold your face, tender yet firm, to make sure you would remain close.

“Damn it. All of it.”

And before you could reply, Ben was leaning down to kiss you. Passionately, deeply, like there was no one else in the room.

People shouted, catcalled, cheered. You barely noticed a sound. You were too busy abandoning yourself to the feeling of his lips, of his tongue, of his hands over your cheeks… melting against his tall frame, feeling lucky he was there to catch you when your knees were too weak to bear your weight.

When you broke apart again, out of breath, you were both grinning like idiots, brushing your noses together, holding on each other tight again.

And Ben didn’t seem to notice that the camera was still rolling. That about a year later, the footage would be used to tease him profusely by the cast until a part of it would be revealed for the entirety of the internet to go absolutely insane. He barely noticed his colleagues at all until he finally took a step back, holding both your hands in his, but turning to the room around him. No, he didn’t notice anything for a while but you, your eyes, your smile, your perfume…

“I’ve missed you so much,” Ben whispered, lips barely parted from yours at all. “Thank you so much for coming here.”

“I’ve missed you too. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

He shook his head in amazement, still barely able to believe it was all real.

“You’re really here.”

It was more of a statement than a question. Still, it was hesitant, uncertain. Your voice, though, was perfectly steady when you answered. It was more of a promise than a statement.

“I’ll always be here, Ben. Always.”

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

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fanfic #ben barnes oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #writing

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lefarte · 4 months ago

Text

Nosramus x reader (for an anonymous requester!)

Tags: GN reader, fluff, comfort ^_^, I used all pronouns for Nosramus here

The dungeon was always unnaturally cold. You had felt cold before, you understood what it was like to nearly freeze to death, but every step you took deeper was almost unbearable. The mines had sent jolts through your bones every step that nearly made your knees buckle. It had sent you into a near primal state. Your throat burned. You couldn’t feel your fingers.

With no concept of night or day, or how long you had been here anymore, you were wandering aimlessly like a ghoul through the gray tunnels. And then you saw a little spark of light.

Like an animal, you gnashed your teeth, baring your weapon with cold hands. Your body pulsed with adrenaline. Your pupils were unfocused and darting back and forth, you were ravenous and enamated an intent to kill or to die or to claw someone’s eyes out. The person with the torch hadn’t moved a muscle.

Narrowing your bleary eyes, you saw a woman - or a man? A figure with long hair. It was well kept, and quite beautiful, even. They were looking at the ground.

“Who goes there!” You bristled.

They looked up at you. The torchlight only illuminated the faintest of his features through flickers. You had expected something ghoulish, but, no. This was a person - or person enough. Slender, almost rangy, and pale, but the best sight you’d seen in weeks.

After the silence that followed, you felt a sense of shame for pointing your weapon at her.

“I beg your pardon?” His voice was soft for a man, or deep for a woman. It was gentle, but clear, and rung nicely on the dungeon walls.

“Who are you?” You did not put away your weapon. You couldn’t bring yourself to, after all you’d suffered.

“Just a fellow collecting some mushrooms.” They shrugged. She didn’t regard your weapon with any kind of fear, in fact, she ignored it as if it wasn’t there.

You frowned.

“These ones grow off of human and animal excrement. Although, the soil of the blood pit is much too much iron for any plant life to survive. They hang around the outskirts. I think the shape of them is rather cute. Plus, they’re very nutritious...”

“I don’t give a damn about mushrooms right now.”

“I think it would do you some good.”

They made a gentle come-hither motion with their hands, as if you were a frightened animal.

You paused. And then, with some trepidation, you stalked forward. You stood about a foot away from her, making your wariness clear.

“It’s been some time since I’ve last had company,” He mused. “I can’t see your face from over there. Would you come into the light?”

“Swear not to do anything,” You demanded, though it sounded desperate.

“I will not.” They soothed. “I would have no reason to.”

You sat down on your haunches by the torch, huddling as close to the torchlight as possible.

“Oh my. You’re quite chilly, aren’t you?” She examined you. “It’s been so long. I forget how cold it is. I have a blanket for you, dear.”

You looked at him with big eyes.

Sensing that you would not do it on your own, he draped it over you himself. It was but rags, and thin, but the gesture felt so kind that it caught you off guard.

“Thank you,” You murmured.

She laughed. “Silly thing. Don’t stand so close to the fire.”

You did not move, anyway. She reached out a hand to you. You flinched, and then paused again, as the pale hand went up to your head and gave you some gentle pats. A quiet whimper slipped out of your mouth. You realized that you were nuzzling into his hand quite instinctually, but it only made him chuckle.

“Let me guess,” They hummed. “You are wanting my mushrooms?”

You nodded.

“Have some,” He pushed the basket of the round, bulbous mushrooms towards you. In the dim of the light, you could almost imagine the little round buns as some kind of warm bread, or even a sweet pastry. “I could spare some time for you. You are so unusually sweet, if you don’t mind me saying. Most people here are unpleasant company.”

Hardly hearing the words from her mouth, you devoured a mushroom. Your nose wrinkled.

“I suppose it is an acquired taste, yes.” He smiled.

You reached for the basket again a few times, each time glancing up at her for approval, where she always gave you a silent nod of ‘go on’.

“Goodness. Please do remember to chew them. Wouldn’t do you any good to choke down here, would it?”

You sniffled a little as you choked down your fifth mushroom. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

He looked like he might have patted your head again, but he didn’t.

“Oh.. oh, it’s that time already, isn’t it?” She murmured. You looked up at her with an almost betrayed expression, and guarded the mushrooms you had snatched with your hands, as if she might take them from you.

“I am terribly sorry, but I have ought to get going.” She stood up. You never realized how tall she was until you were looking up at her from this angle. He was ethereal, beautiful in an uncanny way.

You pulled the basket closer to yourself.

“That’s quite funny. Keep the basket and the torch to yourself, poppet.” He smiled. “Do come find me again one of these days. I hate to see you go, but I’ve kept you quite long enough. Bye~”

You reached out to grab her cloak, but she had already gone.

#fear and hunger x reader #Nosramus x reader #I tried on this one

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tiny-wren · 2 years ago

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Quinn and Timm: An Analysis

*cracks knuckles*

Quinn x Timm is probably the most popular non-canon ship in the Papa Louie series. Even if you don't ship them, if you're in the fandom, you know about them. Drama, fluff, everything in-between, fanart, fanfics, these two have it all. Why is everyone bonkers bananas over these bitches? Because they are iconic. And I am here to talk about them, at length. Strap in. Please take this all with a grain of salt I like being unhinged about Papa's lore so /silly!!! Also I know I have mutuals who don't ship them romantically and that is okay LOL I just want to talk about their dynamic and drama regardless of shipping anyways.

1. When Pizzas Attack/Taco Mia!

Timm is one of the OG’s. We had to rescue his damsel-in-distress ass in Papa Louie: When Pizzas Attack, and from then on he became a loyal and iconic customer. He exists. Quinn is a character introduced in Taco Mia!. She's Tacodale's top lawyer, and she's cool as fuck. Taco Mia! is where we first see Quinn, Timm and Associates in the form of a lovely…disgustingly garish lime green billboard that sometimes appears at the beginning of each day in the game:

Timm finally has a purpose! Good job, buddy. So, they’re partners. Law partners. They’re lawyers, and they own a law firm together. Note: Timm’s up there too, so he’s more or less equally as important as Quinn is. TLDR; They’re big fucking deals. What we can deduce from this is they’re made for each other. Okay, literally, lovey-dovey shit aside: Their names rhyme. They got the cute little double letter thing going on. Look at their peanut butter and jelly ass color scheme. Pretty solid symbolism for a food game. They go together.

2. Freezeria Freezeria is released a few months after Taco Mia. It’s iconic. It’s great. Also play Freezeria Deluxe it's out now. That’s pretty sweet. Anyways…

Hey, wait, where the fuck is Timm? Where is that lovable receding hairline bastard when you need him? Man. Come on. I wanted to make him a sundae. This sucks.

Oh, well, Quinn is here though... So, Timm is completely absent from the original Freezeria (along with a few other customers, but this isn’t about them). Apparently Timm was too busy getting his hair did or something.

IIRC there were explanations as to why they weren’t here, but I’m not even sure if it’s fanon or official, so…euhhh? "Alright, hey Flipline, you JUST got me acquainted with this duo, and now you take them away from me? " Well, get used to it, bitch. 3. Pancakeria/Flipdecks Holy SHIT Timm is back and WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT?? I think it’s around this time that Flipline starts making flipdecks, and great timing, because they better explain what the hell happened to this man.

Quinn and Timm’s flipdecks are made pretty close together, with Quinn’s being the 8th and Timm’s being the 10th. We're given their lore back-to-back, which is just #tragic. Anyway:

Quinn’s flipdeck:

"Quinn is one of the top lawyers in town, and offers legal representation for Papa Louie and his many franchises. Her law firm is now called “Just Quinn and Associates” after her longtime partner Timm abruptly left. Quinn only finds time once a week to dine out, and can be extra picky with her meals."

Timm’s flipdeck: "Timm has been a loyal customer of Papa Louie since the very beginning. Always keeping up with the times, Timm has been evolving his look throughout the years. He finally quit his job at "Quinn, Timm, and Associates" to pursue his lifelong dream of becoming a world champion dancer." So they split up. Timm left his stinking dead end job with no warning and Quinn is (reasonably) pretty upset by this. Okay, admittedly, not much is divulged here, so we have to do a lot of reading between the lines.

Timm’s flipdeck is entirely self-centered. It doesn’t even really mention Quinn herself at all, just the law firm and how he was happy to get the fuck out of dodge.

Also, “finally”... How long has this man been sitting on this decision? Dude’s been in court like “god I hate it here” for god knows how long. He hated his job and wanted to do something else. Okay, fair enough, dude. Be free.

Quinn’s on the other hand…

Note how Timm is described as “her longtime partner”.

“Longtime partner”--how long did these two work together? I feel like this wording is pretty emotionally charged, not to mention that “partner” is a word with several meanings. I understand that they’re lawyers, but like…come on. It doesn’t help that Quinn treats this split like a messy breakup by renaming the law firm to “JUST Quinn and Associates” "Yep. Just me! All by myself! I’m gonna put it up on my big pretentious clock tower with big bold letters."

Can you blame her, though? I mean, that was a massive dick move on Timm’s behalf. Even if you love Timm—and I do–he was...not the best here. And it’s clear by the wording of her flipdeck that Quinn didn’t know about it. SAD! So, when did they split up?

Most likely between the events of Taco Mia and Pancakeria. Considering that Timm was absent during Freezeria, we can safely assume that things were already over by then, considering he comes waltzing into the Pancakeria with his new look and all afterwards. 4. BAKERIA

It's 2016 and Timm's a chef! Wait. Okay. Timm is a chef now. Which is really funny when you think about it. He went from being a lawyer, possibly Papa’s lawyer since we know at least Quinn represents him, to being a “competitive dancer”, to…working for Papa for minimum wage.

So, Timm’s canonically a chef, which means…he has no choice but to interact with Quinn once a week. YOU WOULD THINK THAT SOMETHING WOULD COME OF THIS. AND NOTHING DOES. WHICH IS PROBABLY THE MOST FRUSTRATING SHIT EVER, SINCE WE ARE GOING ON A LITTLE OVER A DECADE LONG WITH THESE TWO. Longest slowburn ever am I right? Regardless of there being no canon evidence outside of gameplay mechanics, Timm and Quinn are interacting again. Nobody knows what this means, but I can tell you one thing: the ship was in it’s fucking renaissance and I personally was LIVING.

YES. SERVE HER THAT PIE. OOOH THE TENSION!

Anyway, shipping aside, it would've been nice to see these two have...SOME sort of interaction, considering they were associated and all, and Quinn was hurt by his absence. But yeah, no, I guess not.

5. Mocharia

I've never played Mocharia and I probably never will, BUT WHAT I DO KNOW is that a bunch of the customers worked on the production of Mocharia Life. That's cute and all, but like... you know, I haven't seen anyone talk about this:

OKAY OKAY LISTEN LISTEN look listen to me. look. OKAY. Probably didn't interact directly. But DUDE. THEY WORKED TOGETHER. THEY WORKED TOGETHER AGAIN. Foaming at the mouth I can't handle this. There is hope besties...

So, that's about it. I really wish that Flipline would give us some actual interaction between these two, and I don't really care what kind of interaction, just something. Given their history!!! I think they're interesting, and my brain is full of these two. I hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you if you got this far!! ^_^

mutuals who aren't in this fandom, thanks for putting up with this hellpost. love u

#papa louie #flipline #long post #quinn flipline #timm flipline #quinn x timm

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brook1yn-baby · 1 year ago

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home

kenjorine band au oneshot <3

characters; kenny mccormick x marjorine stotch

warnings; tooth-rotting fluff teehee

a/n; short lil oneshot bcos i love these silly little guys!!

the brick wall of the alleyway is cold and damp as marj leans her head against it, finger twirled around the cord of a decrepit payphone. she’s lucky it still works, she thinks, before her thoughts are drowned out by the dial tone she’d come to know and love.

crimson dawn’s tour had been a success thus far; 14 sold out shows, with 1 more to go. stan, jimmy, marj and bebe had spent countless nights exploring the cities they’d only be in for a day or so, before they’d be back on the bus, travelling to the next to do it all over again. it was incredible, and she’d seen more of america than she thought she’d ever see in her life in just the space of two weeks. the band had been a silly pastime for her a year ago. an escape from her parents and their sheltered household. now, playing to crowds of thousands of fans every night, she’s sure nothing can feel as perfect as this.

well, except, maybe..

“marj.”

his voice is quiet, and she almost doesn’t hear it over the sound of the bustling nighttime streets of phoenix. she holds in a squeal of happiness. “hiya, ken!”

she can hear him chuckle from the other side of the phone, then sigh. it’s not a frustrated sigh, or a fed-up sigh- those, she was used to hearing, especially from her parents. this was a sigh of comfort, like a weight’s been lifted from kenny’s shoulders.

he’d never been a religious man, though his family were. promises of eternal happiness and a loving god with a ‘plan’ seemed so far from reality. but, after every show, when the phone rings and he hears her sweet, sweet voice, he could fall to his knees and pray, thank whatever divine being brought her to him.

“how was the show?” it’s a simple question, and he asks it every night without fail. he makes sure she’s okay after the bad ones, and congratulates her after the good ones, and always, always tells her how proud he is of her. kenny had left crimson dawn to work with his brother at the auto shop, hoping to save up some money to put karen through college further down the line. marjorine was still butters back then. music wasn’t kenny’s biggest passion anyway. that spot was saved for his sister and now, also, marj. the only people in the world he’d die a hundred times over for.

“so much fun. our next one’s gonna be the best we’ve ever done, though. pinky promise.” she giggles into the receiver. stan had made sure that south park was their last stop on the tour, meaning tomorrow she’d be home. maybe not her actual house; she’d been living in bebe’s spare room since she told her parents she didn’t wanna go to college. no, home. with kenny. she swears she can hear his grin through the phone.

“do i get a backstage pass? yknow, since i’m a groupie.” she laughs and it’s loud and real and it feels so good to be joking around, to forget about how difficult it is being away from him. “aw ken, of course you do! i wouldn’t exactly call you a groupie, though,”

“my girlfriend is a fuckin’ gorgeous, talented rockstar. i wear the word groupie like a badge of honour, babe.”

marj looks out to the street as she hears the backstage door open, watching jimmy lean against the handrail of the stairs while stan and bebe use his crutches as swords, doubling over, laughing their asses off. they’re all red in the face, still sweating from the show, but they’re having the time of their lives, and so is she. admiring the people she’s been through her worst and best times with as they act like completely loveable idiots. it’s bittersweet; she wishes kenny was there to watch too.

she’s silent for a moment, listening to his soft, rhythmic breathing, dulled slightly by the static of the old phone. “geez, ken, i miss you,” it comes out cracked and quiet, and she doesn’t even realise there’s a tear rolling down her cheek until it brushes her lip. she wipes it away, pretending it’s his hand instead of her own. “one more night, babe. then i’m all yours.” marj lets out a sniffly laugh, even though she knows his words aren’t true. it didn’t matter whether she was in his arms, or in the depths of hell; wherever they ended up, he’d always be all hers.

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amirsirwrites · 2 years ago

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hai! so i’ve just been thinking about this for the past few days. how would the mercs react to finding out/realising the new mercenary on the block is their sibling? would there be a new sibling rivalry of sorts depending on the merc? would there be fluff, angst? or plain chaos even? i hope i’m phrasing this right ;;

i hardly ever grew up around my siblings so i have no idea what it would be like 💀, but having a sibling would also be pretty neat!

Hai, anon! Finished your request, it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it! :)

Mercs finding out you're their sibling 💜

Requested

Mercs and GN!reader

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Scout :

Having grown up with seven brothers, having another sibling is no big deal for him. Sure - he was quite surprised to find out that you’re his sibling at first, but right after that, he started treating you like he would with the rest of his brothers. That means light-hearted rivalry, lots of play fighting, teasing and much more. During every battle, you two will have a competition on who can kill the most people. Although the two of you like to annoy and tease each other a lot, when things get serious and you’re in danger, you make an awesome duo, wiping the floor with your enemies together. You two have an inseparable bond.

Soldier :

When you tell him you’re his sibling, he’s surprisingly calm about it. He thinks about it for a while in silence and eventually nods and gives you a hard slap on the back, “If you’re going to be related to me then you better toughen up, maggot!” Perhaps it was a mistake telling him.. from that point on, he invites you to do vigorous training with him which includes long runs, weight training, hand-to-hand combat and a ton of other workouts. He’s going to make sure he’s proud to call you his family by training you up. In battle, he’ll always encourage you loudly and cheer you on. Things get crazy if you decide to have any kind of competition with him. Overall, he’s quite happy to have a sibling.

Pyro :

They’re already really affectionate with all the mercs so when they find out that you’re they’re sibling, you can bet that they’ll be so so so affectionate with you. If you’re alright with physical touch, expect tons of hugs from them whenever they see you. When they see you doing really well in battle, they’ll be sure to cheer for you. You can’t exactly make out what they’re saying because of the mask but you’re still touched by the kind gesture anyway. It doesn’t matter if you’re younger than Pyro, between the two of you, you’re the older sibling. Also, Pyro absolutely loves getting praised by you. You have a really sweet bond with each other.

Demoman :

He’s drunk the first time you tell him so it took him a few hours to sober up and process the fact that you’re his sibling. He’s shocked and calls his mother to confirm what you’re saying. When he fully calms down, you two sit down and have a talk with each other. Demo doesn’t mind having another family member but if you’re family, he’s going to make sure that you two get to know each other well. Pretty early on, you two start to tease each other a lot. If you make a silly mistake like tripping over something, he’s going to laugh like hell and poke fun at you. He’ll also bring up those kind of events at dinner time to embarrass you a bit and have a good laugh. Don’t worry though, if he sees that you’re uncomfortable with him teasing you, he’ll stop and apologise to you. You’re comfortable with each other.

Heavy :

He’s left speechless when you tell him. He’s not upset or anything, he’s just trying to understand how he’s never met you until now if you’re related. Things are a bit awkward with him during the first few weeks, he really does want to get to know you better but it’s hard for him to talk to you. It feels strange for him. After a while though, the wall between the two of you slowly but surely disappears. You’re not super close to each other but he definitely thinks of you as a close friend. When he wants to go back to Russia to visit his mother and sisters, he’ll give you an offer to tag along. They are also your family after all, you should get to know them as well. It’ll take a few years before you two really feel like siblings, but for now, friends is alright.

Engineer :

“Well darn. Bring it in then!” is what he says before giving you a warm hug. He’s a very open person so he’s comfortable with you straight away. If you want to sit down and have a chat with him or just hang out, his door is always open for you. He actually quite enjoys your company, even if you’re not talking to each other. It’s nice to have another person there with him while he’s working on his gadgets. Sometimes, he rants to you about his projects and you’ll smile and nod along even if you don’t understand anything he’s saying. He’s sure to send a ‘Yee-haw!’ your way in battle when he sees you doing good. He really likes having a sibling.

Medic :

He’s in absolute disbelief when you tell him. Just in case, he’ll steal a blood sample from you and run a test to check if the two of you are really related. He’s honestly not quite sure how to act around you. Sure, you’re family, but he’s never really been that close to his family. He kind of just treats you like the other mercs. However, he does keep an eye out for you. Your relationship does become closer when you come over to his lab to hang out. He appreciates you feeding Archimedes and the others when he’s busy. You two don’t really feel like family with each other but fret not, you still (silently) care for each other. There are no heart-to-heart talks but there are nice gestures and that’s enough for now.

Sniper :

The both of you sit down and talk for a long time when you tell him, talking about your lives and also about what little you remember about New Zealand. Since he’s not really the social type, talking to him can be a bit awkward. It definitely takes a while before you both feel fully comfortable with each other. You two have a more silent but caring kind of relationship. He’ll always be looking out for you in battle and you’ll do the same. You’ll also be trying to get him to move out of his camper van and improve his hygiene by buying him a lot of shampoo and soap. He’ll act all irritated about it but deep down, he’s touched that you care about him. You have a decent bond with each other.

Spy :

He thinks you’re joking when you tell him but when you give him a serious look, he doesn’t know what to say. He asked you to leave so he could think in peace. It became tense between the two of you. You had no idea why. It took a long time before the air between the both of you eased up and you felt alright talking to each other. Spy prefers to just treat you like he would with the other mercs. He’s never had a sibling until now so he doesn’t know how to act around you. Your relationship is more like friends or acquaintances at the moment. You’ll have to give it a while before he warms up to you.

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#tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #gender neutral pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 headcanons #gender neutral reader #sibling reader

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gretagerwigsmuse · 10 months ago

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as a carrot cake lover i feel very seen here! i could read a novel about bradley and sweet girl like i could read about them running errands and taking duck (“like quack!”) to the dog park and bradley taking her car to work. like i could read anything about them and sweet girl saying those kinds of moments are her favorite things about life with bradley makes my heart so full! and then the END!?! i cried the first time i’m being so serious 💕 more below

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. - sweet girl getting the last laugh on this one

He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice. - this is so cute, i’m smiling so big (also man has a MENU and he needs his french bread 🫡 oui oui bitch)

and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight. - thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthank -

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. - i love every time you mention her parents! especially knowing about her mom’s wedding 🤭🤭 like bradley’s her kid too!

For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo. - DUCK LIKE QUACK 🦆 i love this dog so much and i can picture bradley making silly faces at him and getting him all worked out

It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone. - YOUR SWEET BOY 🤭 i love this dog and his cute little name so much i want snugs with him and bradley (sweet girl’s two sweet boys)

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. - this has me absolutely swooning 🤭 this is so sweet and tender and they’re so soooo into each other. also he is a human furnace

The mental image of Bradley recording a video of your puppy being cute and playing in the park in the same way a proud dad would film his kid’s little league game makes you feel more than a little weak in the knees. - and that he specifically took them FOR HER has me feeling weak in the knees! THAT’S THEIR SON!!

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.” - i know they love his show and i know they should be planning a trip to italy asap. and he can make real homemade meatballs with me since i don’t eat the tj’s ones anymore 💁🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you. - makes me swoon, he’s so pretty in so many ways

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction. - 😮🤭 and then he slaps her ass!!!

The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him. - this is one of my favorite parts about these two 🤭 ‘and bradley has the best personality”

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?” - cheeky boy! i like that he doesn’t let this slide 😉

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. - i just love this visual so much? there’s something about it that gives me butterflies

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. - this would totally get me too like i don’t want him to thinking i’m pushing him towards something? especially if they haven’t talked about it too much?

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette. - okay i took later as ONE DAY not later that night 🤭

while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior - oh it is absolutely deranged

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged. - i giggled 🤭 like it is so sweet and reassuring especially with the verbal confirmation in a bit that they’re on the same wavelength

He’s been in your life for almost three decades now. You’d known the boy, the teen, and you more than liked the man he’d become. You had absolutely no intention of ever letting him go. He was yours. Forever and always. - what’s another 6 decades for these two? “you more than liked” oh i love love love it

“But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.” - HELP!?! this is so sweet but so cheeky and everything i’d also want

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips. - OUR WEDDING!!! i’m kicking my feet

You wanted to wear his ring on your finger just as much as you wanted to see him wearing one of his own one day. You liked your last name, but there was nothing more you wanted than to be Mrs. Bradshaw. It would be another thing you and Carole could share. A name and the everlasting love for her son. - GET OUTTE OF HERE WITH ALL OF THIS!?!!!? this is really too much and then knowing the story with the ring!?!

He hadn’t been able to control the nervous bounce of his leg or his sweaty palms when he’d ask your mom’s permission for your hand in marriage. It hadn’t been any easier the second time, when he’d had to do it all over again with your dad that sunny day at the golf course. - BRADLEY!!! SO NERVOUS!! LIKE THEYD SAY NO!!! ugh he loves her so much and i love that he already asked them way before this lil incident!

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way. - LIKE GIVE ME YOUR HAND HERE IS MY HEART!!!

They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right. - and this being why he goes with the ring is so sweet and perfect and i KNOW sweet girl probably sobs when he tells her the background

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit. The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined. - my eyes filled with TEARS the first time i read this. i always love that even though i’m in the loop on so many things you still ALWAYS surprise me!!

Sweetest Devotion

Summary: Loving Bradley is the easiest thing you've ever done, and coming home to him is always the best part of your day. Especially when you come home with cake. But a slight mixup at the bakery leads to the sweetest of promises.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5k

Warnings: So much fluff (side effects may include giggling and kicking your feet)

(Author’s Note: this fic was written for my one year celebration of the ‘Like I Can’ series, but it can be read on its own!)

After a long week, there was no place you’d rather be than at home with Bradley.

The two of you have been living together for a couple of months now, but seeing his Bronco parked in the driveway of the condo you shared knowing the empty spot next to it is meant for your own still made your heart flutter out of sheer giddiness.

Even if he still teased you about your practical Honda Civic’s lack of street cred. But it did have a spacious backseat with its own set of doors and an actual trunk, unlike the Bronco.

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. Those days you just got to preen as you handed over your car keys to him. Sure, you could be the one to drop him off, but it was funnier watching the way he valiantly attempted to hold back his grimace as he tried to adjust the driver’s seat to comfortably fit his bulk.

As you pull into your spot, you’re hit with that same gust of summer breeze warmth you always are as you. It was a feeling you didn’t expect to go away any time soon.

It takes a bit of finesse getting the front door open with your work tote and purse slung over one shoulder while you cradled the paper bags of bread and box of treats you’d stopped for on the way home in the other.

Bradley had texted you to let you know that he was making dinner earlier, but had forgotten the bread during his grocery run and had asked if you didn’t mind making a quick stop to grab some. He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice.

Especially after the way he had teased you in the shower this morning.

You picked up the baguette that he’d requested along with a couple loaves of fresh bread for sandwiches that you were planning to stick in the freezer for later. At the checkout, they’d had a few fun pink bakery boxes packed with six individually wrapped cake slices in different flavors. It seemed like more fun than the basic red velvet cupcakes you had been debating as you waited for your turn to pay, so you’d picked up one of those boxes too. Since it was Friday, you figured a little treat was very much deserved after such a long week.

The two of you had just gotten back from a little trip back home not too long ago, but you were already dying for another vacation. Ideally one that involved creamy blended beverages served in coconuts and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight.

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. You’ve always gone home for holidays, but it had been years since he’d been there with you. Some things had stayed the same like the ice cream shop where Bradley had had his first job. And some things had changed with the times like the empty parking lot where he’d first taught you how to drive was now the site of an upscale organic grocery store. Now that you and Bradley were you and Bradley, the nostalgia of your younger years felt extra sweet as you’d strolled with his hand tucked yours.

It’s a miracle you get through the door without dropping anything.

You’re waiting to hear the scamper of little paws against the laminate floor headed your way as you kick off your heels, Duck was usually the first one to greet you when you got home.

The puppy was growing all too quick for your liking. For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo.

Even if Bradley still got huffy about the name and how Duck had come to be in your life.

On the occasional night when Bob’s friend Casey from the animal shelter- the man you’d been on exactly half of a date with once close to a year ago- was invited to come hang out, your boyfriend always was finding reasons to stand a little closer to you or leave his hands lingering a little longer on your hips. Those nights usually end with the two of you sweaty and out of breath, tangled in the sheets of your canopy bed.

You can hear Bradley singing along with one of his playlists in the kitchen and the sounds of drawers opening and closing as you tuck your purse and tote under the side table at the entrance. You smile to yourself as you drop your car keys into the bowl where his are already resting, the keychain on the keys to his Bronco was the same one you’d given him when you were teens when Mav had gotten him the Montero for his 16th birthday.

Taking the bread and box of cake slices with you, you pass through the living room you see Duck passed out belly up on his Sherpa lined dog bed. His ears flopped out to the side and his little paws twitching as he dreams about chasing balls or squirrels. It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone.

“I’m home,” you greet, rounding the corner to the kitchen, the savory smell of onions and garlic growing stronger the closer you get, “And I come bearing a baguette.”

Standing in front of the stove is Bradley with a checkered kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. His curls look a little damp, still drying from the shower he must have taken earlier. The soft looking shirt he’s wearing is pulled taut across his back, and the sweatpants he has on are hugging the curve of his ass in the best way. He looks so at ease and comfortable, none of the tense strain in his body that he sometimes comes home with.

Bradley looks over his shoulder towards you with a grin on his face, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His pretty brown eyes rake over you in a way that has you wondering about just how he is planning on thanking you for picking up the baguette you’d stopped for. He lets out a low whistle, “Damn, I love that skirt on you.”

“I’m glad you clarified,” you say, sending him a wink and setting your bakery haul down on the island counter, “I wasn’t sure if you were talking to me or the armload of freshly baked carbs.”

He leans his hip on the side of the counter, “A little yeast and flour have got nothing on you, kid.”

“Now you know you can’t go around saying things like that an expect me not to fall in love with you,” you tease, opening the freezer to put the sandwich bread away.

“I’m failing to see a problem with that- oh shit,” he curses, hastily turning back to the stove to adjust the range knob as something spits and sizzles on the top of the convection cooktop.

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. Under the woodsy smell of his body wash there’s still a faint lingering scent of jet fuel. It’s your favorite smell.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, settling his big hand over yours, still stirring the sauce with the other. And you can almost see the easy, contented smile on his face just from the gentle tone of his voice.

“Hi, Bradley,” you hum, happy to be home.

“How was your day?”

“I’m glad it’s the weekend,” you say with a sigh, “The beach day tomorrow with everyone is going to be much needed.” A sympathetic sound rumbles from his chest as his thumb runs over the back of your hand. You were looking forward to sitting under the shade of the stripped umbrella and feeling the sand between your toes as you sip on an icy cold beer. “How was yours?”

“Not too bad, I took Seresin out and now he owes me $200. So overall, it’s been a pretty good day,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “Cyclone let us out early, so I was productive. Did some errands, got the groceries. Well, most of them. I even took Duck to the dog park and let him run around for a bit. He made friends with a Great Dane, I took a few videos of them playing on my phone for you.”

Pressing up on your toes, you skim a kiss against the side of his neck and prop your chin on his shoulder to peer at what he’s cooking up.

“It smells really good in here,” you tell him, taking in the pot of sauce simmering away on the stove. Off to the side there’s a cutting board with some fresh basil chopped up and a pile of papery vegetable scraps and a couple empty cans of tomato sauce.

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, the surprise evident in your voice, “Homemade meatballs?”

“Ok, maybe those came from Trader Joe’s,” Bradley admits, “But the sauce is all me. I even put the red pepper flakes in it the way you like it.” He reaches over for a handful of basil and adds it into the pot.

You send your thanks up to Carole for making sure her son at least had known the basics of cooking. He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you.

“‘Semi-homemade with Bradley Bradshaw’ has a nice ring to it, want me to pitch it as a reboot to the Food Network?” You feel the way he chuckles under your palms, the muscles of his stomach contracting and releasing.

“I don’t think I’d make it out with my liver intact. That woman loved her cocktails strong, I’m pretty sure her sangria recipe would send me to the floor,” he jokes, “No wonder why our moms were always watching her.”

“A woman after my own heart,” you sing, “I’m so glad I inherited such good taste from them.”

Bradley shakes his head amused, “The good news for you is that there’s a bottle of red open and waiting for you, funny girl.”

The promise of wine perks you up immediately. Pasta, wine, cake, and Bradley. What more could a girl need?

“God, you’re the man of my dreams.”

“I sure hope so,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight, Lieutenant.” You take advantage of the way he leans his head back and laughs to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

You slide your arms back from around his waist, only managing to take one step towards the bottle of your favorite Cabernet Sauvignon that’s breathing over near the sink with one of your wine glasses set out next to it before you’re being stopped with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hold up, where do you think you’re going, kid?” Bradley asks, tugging you back to him with a grin.

He doesn’t wait for your response before he is leaning in to properly kiss you for the first time since he left for work this morning.

At the press of his lips against yours, you feel every ounce of strain you’d been carrying from the day dissolve like melted sugar. A satisfied hum escapes you and you feel the way the corner of Bradley’s mouth ticks up at your reaction to him. His hands cup your face, tilting you head until it was at the perfect angle for him to deepen the kiss. You don’t even notice he’s back you up against the island until the countertop is digging into your lower back, too distracted by the way the coarse hairs of his mustache scrape along your upper lip.

If it weren’t for the sound of the timer going off the two of you might have almost would have forgotten about dinner entirely, it wouldn’t have been the first time it’s happened.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you ask, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt from the way you’d had it clutched in your fists just moments ago before letting go of him so that he can silence the beeping coming from the oven.

“You want to make us a salad to go with it?”

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction.

And really you should have expected the cheeky way his hand connects with your ass in a quick, sharp slap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, but he’s already facing the stove and stirring the sauce again as he adjusts the seasoning with a smirk.

You take a moment to pour yourself a glass of the wine Bradley had opened for you and take a sip. The bold, juicy flavor dancing across your tongue as you set about gathering the things to make a simple salad to go with the dinner he’s made for the two of you.

This is your favorite part of the day, when it’s just the two of you together.

The back and forth has always been easy with him. Whether it’s making dinner or running errands or doing laundry together. The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him.

When Bradley declares the sauce to be perfect, he comes and joins you at the island. Grabbing a cutting board of his own he starts slicing up the fresh baguette you’d picked up, offering you the end to snack on.

“Oh, what’s this?” he asks, picking up the box of assorted cake slices.

You continue chopping the cucumber in front of you, “Isn’t that fun? They had a stack of those at the checkout. I think they must have made too many cakes this week on accident, but it’s so smart of them so sell them that way. Why get one flavor when you can have six? Best of both worlds for everyone.”

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

It hadn’t been a particularly noteworthy visit, other than you’d been able to score a parking spot in front of the building, “Uh, not that I can think of?”

“You sure?” Bradley prods.

“No?... Oh! I was going to pick up that marbled rye you like while I was there getting the baguette, but they were already sold out. So I got a loaf of the multigrain brown bread and some sourdough instead.”

“Mmm, interesting.”

Stopping your salad prep, you look up at him skeptically, “Ok, why are you mmm-ing me, Bradshaw?”

Bradley’s eyes are alight with playful mischief as he slides the box of the cake slices towards you and pointedly double taps on the sticker on the upper right corner of the pink box with his finger.

You hadn’t stopped to read the shiny gold label when you’d grabbed it at the bakery, the tempting layers of cake and frosting and fillings had immediately sold you on it, but you couldn’t unsee what the curly scripted font said now.

Wedding Cake Sampler

“So, when’s the wedding? I’m assuming I’ll be invited,” he grins.

You feel your face get hot as you realize your mistake. It wasn’t just a sample box, but a very specific type of sample box. A very specific type of sample box for a very specific occasion.

Suddenly the interaction with the bakery employee as you were paying makes so much more sense now.

“Oh my god, the girl at the checkout said ‘Congratulations’ and I said ‘Happy Fri-yay’ back to her,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands, “I thought she meant it like ‘Congrats on making it to Friday’ thing.”

He laughs, “Sweet girl, that’s about the damn cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Happy Fri-yay, Bradley! She was congratulating me on our- I mean- the nonexistent impending nuptials she thought I had and I reply to her that? We need to find a new bakery, I can’t go there ever again,” you lament. It’s truly a tragedy, since they have the best sticky pecan rolls in the area.

“And you call me a drama queen,” Bradley lightly teases, “She probably thought it was funny.”

You groan again, louder this time. If he was going to call you a drama queen, you’d at least try out your best Mariah Carey impersonation.

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. “C’mon, it’s not even that bad. I’m sure I did at least three things more embarrassing than that today.”

“Yeah, I bet you did too,” you grumble into his chest without heat. The way he chuckles at your surliness lets you know he doesn’t take it personally. Not only is he getting laid, but you decide you’re definitely going to give him head too for being the sweetest man alive.

He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls the away from your face, “I gotta tell you, I’m glad it was just a little mix up. It would have sucked to find out my girlfriend had a fiancé I didn’t know about.”

You can see every shade of brown in his eyes as he looks into yours, the affection and amusement rippling there the same way the light catches the surface of a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. And fact of the matter is that you still probably would have picked it up anyways, you just might have peeled off the incriminating sticker off in the car before bringing it in.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Bradshaw. I’ve got my hands more than full enough with you.”

“Yeah, you do,” he boasts, the insinuation is not lost on you.

You snort a laugh and shove at his chest lightly. He drops a kiss to the side of your head and makes his way back to the other side of the kitchen island as you get back to your salad making duties.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette.

You playfully toss a cucumber at him for his teasing and he pops in mouth with a grin.

A little later, when you have your steaming bowls of pasta in front of you at the dinner table, he raises his glass of wine to you, “Happy Fri-yay, sweet girl.”

And your laugh is as crystalline as the clink of your glass meeting his in cheers.

After the leftovers are put away and the dishes cleaned, the two of you are cozied up watching the new romcom that was just added on Netflix.

You’re stretched out across the couch with your feet in Bradley’s lap eating the cake you’d picked up. You try a bit of each flavor deciding which one you like the most to save it for the end, while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior and you couldn’t help but tease him about it when you’d noticed his cake tasting methodology.

Bradley moans around a forkful of cake and you know he’s just found the carrot cake- his favorite.

He’s always been a bit of a pseudo health nut with questionable logic. “It’s got carrots and walnuts, it’s basically a superfood” he’s claimed on multiple occasions, while purposefully excluding the part about the pound of butter and cream cheese that goes into the frosting.

“I’d clear my schedule in heartbeat and take you to City Hall any day of the week as long as we get to have this carrot cake when we get married,” he says right before he licks the frosting off of his fork.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When, not if.

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged.

He says it like a fact.

He says it like he knows.

“I didn’t realize I missed the part where you asked me,” you say, setting your plate on the coffee table in front of you, too full of the hope of it all to keep eating.

“And here I was waiting on you, kid,” he says playfully, taking another bite.

He’s teasing, you know he is. Bradley isn’t the type of man who would lead you on or play games with your heart.

“Bradley.” It’s an almost whine the way his name comes out of your mouth as you nudge his thigh with your foot. You turn your head to bury your face in the cushion of the couch, suddenly feeling very bashful.

The two of you have never talked about it, at least not like this before. Only in casual passing comments like getting a place with a bigger backyard for Duck or about setting up a joint banking account. A hypothetical future.

“Hey, c’mon. Look at me,” he coaxes, squeezing your foot. When you peek at him, the look on his face is all open sincerity, “You’re my forever girl. I love you and I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you. That is, if you’re ok with that.”

A rush butterflies happily swoop and swirl around in your stomach.

“That’d be ok with me,” you tell him freely. You watch as his smile gets wider and broader until it’s taking up his whole face, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I think I could handle quite a few more decades with you, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Is that so?” he drawls, his fingers skimming up and down the top of your calf.

“Oh, definitely. You’re stuck with me,” you grin.

“Good.”

He tugs your ankle, pulling you until your back is flat against the couch. You squeal in delight as he pins you down on the cushions, your arms and legs wrap around him on their own drawing him in even closer. Then he’s kissing every inch of your face that he can reach as you laugh in delight.

If it weren’t for Bradley’s sturdy bulk on top of you, you’re pretty sure you might have just floated away. You’ve never felt this incandescently light in your whole life.

He brushes one more quick kiss to the top of your nose before he pulls away, “But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.”

“I don’t know,” you muse, stroking his pink cheek, “Sounds like you’re desperate to wife me up, Bradley. Practically begging for me to take you to the courthouse.”

His hands go straight for curve of your waist, attacking that ticklish spot that’s always made you giggle and squirm. Only taking mercy on you once you’re out of breath. You’re almost positive that the smile on your face might be there permanently.

You don’t miss the intensity in Bradley’s eyes as they trace over your face as he settles himself more fully on you, “You don’t know the half of it, kid. But I’m letting you know now, I’m not going to make either one of us wait long for it.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

You feel the promise he’s making to you in his kiss. The caress of his hands along your body feels like a vow. You feel every ounce of just how much he loves and cherishes you. The cake was sweet, but his honeyed kiss tastes even sweeter.

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

Our wedding.

The thought of it made you giddy.

“Ok, we can have carrot cake at our wedding,” you agree, wholeheartedly, “It’s basically a superfood, after all.”

“Damn right it is,” he beams.

The cake is quickly forgotten in favor of pulling your shirt over your head.

You might not have a ring. Yet.

But you did have a lifetime with Bradley and a carrot cake to look forward to. And that was more than enough for you.

Bradley was pretty sure that there was nothing better on this Earth than having you draped across his chest as you slept soundly in his arms. Your breathing had softened and evened out ages ago, but his mind was whirling with thoughts of his bright future with you.

He’d meant it when he’d told you he wasn’t going to make you wait long. Bradley didn’t know how much longer he could go on calling you his girlfriend when all he really wanted to call you his wife. He’s imagined you in a white dress walking towards him more times than he could count.

When he’d planned the surprised trip back to your shared hometown as a gift for your six-month anniversary, he might have had some ulterior motives. While it was nice to see the place you’d both grown up in again as adults, there had been a more pressing issue on his mind the whole time.

Bradley knew it was a bit of an antiquated tradition, but he’d never proposed to anyone before and he wanted to get it right. He wanted you and your parents to know just how serious he was about his intentions to love you for the rest of his life. He’d even asked Mav for his blessing too, just to make sure he had his bases covered.

It had thrown him through a loop when at the end of the trip you mom had slipped him the ring she’d worn while she was married to your dad. She’d told him there was no expectations or pressure to use it, she just wanted him to have it just in case.

The engagement ring his mom had worn had been tucked in the back corner of his nightstand for almost four months now. Bradley had pulled it out of storage sometime around the third month of officially dating you. It would be too soon for anyone else, but he’s already had decades with you. And he’d never been more sure about anything in his life as he was about knowing you were the one for him.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way.

He’d dwelled on it for weeks trying to figure out if he should give them both to you at once. Or if he should propose to you with one and save the other to you during another monumental moment, like when the two of you started a family. He’d heard about push presents. He figured could turn one into a necklace or something for you.

Bradley could feel the presence of both rings every time he walked into the bedroom. They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right.

His mom had known and loved you, he knew that she’d have been so excited to see her ring on your finger. And after his mom had passed, yours had helped him during those rough days in ways he didn’t think he could ever properly thank her for. Even though your parents’ marriage hadn’t worked out, they were the reason that you were here and he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

It wasn’t until Natasha had shown him the Toi et Moi style ring that things locked into place in a way that made his heart race at the very idea of it.

The right ring for the right girl.

He lets his fingers trail up and down your back gently as you slept soundly against him.

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit.

The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined.

He did win $200 from Jake and had gone to the dog park with Duck, but he’d also stopped by the jewelers across town to give them both of the family heirlooms because he didn’t want to waste a single minute.

Two diamonds, one ring. The start of you and him. A story of your beginnings to be worn on the finger that would tie him to you with a golden thread for the rest of your lives together.

He’d even paid extra to have it engraved.

My sweet girl. My forever girl.

I genuinely thought I was one and done after I wrote my first fic in December of last year. And then came these two. 'Like I Can' was meant to be a oneshot that turned into a 3-part series that turned into half of my masterlist. I adore this couple with my whole heart. Thank you for reading along and celebrating with me!

Elle (@callsignspark) thank you for sending me the TikTok that inspired the headcanon about the wedding cake sampler, I'm showering you with shiny 'thank you' shaped confetti! And another big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for getting as giddy about these two as I do and for always enthusiastically reading the snippets I send you! You both are the best!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley fic #still smiling still swooning

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tasteleeknow · 2 years ago

Text

pairing: minho x virgin!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 6.3k requested by: anon

summary: you’re insecure, both about being inexperienced and about revealing your body to him fully. minho asks if he can show you how much he likes you. a sickly sweet, body worship, virgin!reader smut.

afab!reader. virgin!reader. profanity. protected intercourse [oral (f.rec), squirting, grinding, nipple licking]. body insecurity [no mention of body weight]. body worship. pet names.

“Would you like one?” you ask, offering Minho one of the red lollipops you kept stashed in your bag. It was a desperate attempt to distract from the lull in conversation. Not exactly an awkward silence, but enough to make you nervous. You’d spent so much time with him, you shouldn’t be this nervous. It was just that you liked him. A lot. You liked him so much you had struggled to sleep at all the night before, up late with a cocktail of nerves and butterflies swirling around your stomach.

He takes the lollipop from you, his fingers brushing against yours—one of the only times you’d touched him. Your chest tightens a little at the thought. You wanted to touch him more, very much. It was the idea of him touching you back that had your anxiety flaring up.

“Why do you always carry these around?” he asks before popping the candy in his mouth. You watch him swirl his tongue around, pushing the red lollipop in and out of his mouth a few times before he lets go of the little white stick—freeing you to answer his question.

“Oh, I—I don’t know. I just got in the habit at some point, I guess. I don’t eat them very often but…I think I just find it comforting to have them.” He pushes the candy into his cheek. “I know that’s silly,” you add.

“Nah,” he says, pulling the lollipop from his mouth and gesturing at your surroundings with it. “I think they’re the perfect complement to a scene like this.”

You look out over the ocean, the horizon a bright orange as the sun disappears over the curve of the earth. This was the third time you’d watched the sunset with him this week. You’d lost count of how many dates you’d been on total. Your best friend had assured you he was definitely into you. “How could you go on so many dates with someone and not be into them?” she’d said. You weren’t convinced. He hadn’t kissed you. He hadn’t even tried. You wondered if he just enjoyed your company, if he wasn’t attracted to you at all but was too kind to break it off.

You had no doubt he knew you were attracted to him. You were incapable of subtly, not when it came to him anyway. “Are you free tomorrow?” he asks, legs swinging over the ledge you both sit on.

“Mm, I think so.”

“So you can be out late?”

“Is there something else you wanted to do?”

“I made a pudding,” he says, looking a little nervous. You’d never seen him nervous before. Not visibly, anyway. “I thought maybe you’d like to come to mine and try it.”

You brain blanks. You’d never been to his place before, nor him yours. Words. Words are good. You definitely should say some words. “I—I mean—”

“It’s alright, no pressure,” he says, picking himself up—leaving you sitting on the ledge alone. You jump up, turning to grab his arm—wobbling a little as you lose your footing. He looks down at where your fingers grasp his forearm tightly. You drop it quickly, cheeks warming.

“I want to,” you blurt out. “I mean… I like pudding.”

One corner of his mouth curves up into a small smile, the lollipop pushed into his cheek. You want to poke the little bump. He reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You hold your breath. “It’s vanilla. Come on then,” he says, pulling you towards where he’d parked his car.

You lean forward on the couch to accept the coffee mug Minho offers you. “I uh, didn’t really have anything else to put them in,” he says, placing his own mug of pudding on the coffee table in front of you. You inspect the pudding as he returns to the kitchen. It was nearly to the lip of the mug. “Here,” he says, having returned with two spoons.

He settles himself into the lounge beside you and then grabs the remote, pressing play on the movie you’d chosen. You take a small spoonful, checking Minho’s attention is on the screen before wrapping your lips around it. It’s smooth and sweet and better than any pudding you’ve had before.

“You made this?” you ask, pulling his attention from the opening credits.

“Mm, is it alright?”

“It’s amazing.”

He smiles, falling back into the cushions. “Good.”

“Do you think you could teach me? Or you could just give me the recipe? I mean—you don’t have to. I just—”

He rests his hand on your thigh, halting your verbal vomit. “Sure, I can teach you.”

“Thank you.” You dig out a much bigger spoonful, waiting for him to pull his hand away. He doesn’t, looking back to the movie—his pudding abandoned on the coffee table. When you’d first sat down on his couch, your summer shorts riding up your thighs had made you regret them instantly—grabbing a cushion to hold in your lap. Now? Now you didn’t regret them quite as much, enjoying his casual touch.

You get about half way through the mug before feeling like you’ve had as much as you can fit in, still full from dinner. You lean forward to place the mug gently on the table, his hand finally pulling away from your thigh at your movement. He grabs his own pudding, devouring it at an impressive rate.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to the movie at all, focused entirely on the man next to you. Everytime he readjusts himself, fidgets, drinks from his large water bottle, you’re hyper aware of it. When you tap on his arm lightly to ask where the bathroom is, he leans close—as if you aren’t the only two ppl in the room.

The mugs clink together behind you as you leave the room, Minho taking the chance to clean up while the movie is paused. His bathroom has a full length mirror, a little odd in such a small place. It catches you a little off guard. You usually avoided them. Your mascara is a little smudged. You sigh, turning to grab a piece of toilet paper and wipe under your eyes.

When you’ve cleaned it up as best as you can you suck in a deep breath, suddenly feeling like you want to run. Run to the front door and away from the man you’d developed overwhelming feelings for, feelings that frankly scared you.

He’d touched you more tonight than he had in the few months you’d known him. You’d met through a friend, seeing him occasionally at group gatherings. He made you feel seen, making an effort to ask you how you were every time you saw him. He even remembered the little things you mentioned about yourself. He heard you and he cared enough to remember. You weren’t aware you were going on dates until the fourth time you spent time alone.

You’d gone indoor rock-climbing and after managing only half the kids' wall he’d confessed it was a bad idea for a date. He’d heard you mention it was something you’d always wanted to try and decided to give it ago, despite his fear of heights. You’d been so distracted by the word ‘date’ you hadn’t noticed his ears turning a bright red. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, having ended the session early. “Do you want to come to the beach with me instead?” you’d replied, instigating your first ever sunset date.

You take a step back from the mirror, turning side to side to inspect your body. All his casual touches were leading up to something, and you wanted so badly to be the type of person who could lean into it—to show him how much you wanted him. You think about all the people you’d pushed away, unable to overcome your insecurities enough to be vulnerable with them in that way.

You didn’t know how to bring it up to him, that you hadn’t done this before. You were so amazed someone like him could be interested in you at all, revealing something like that could scare him off. You lift your shirt to touch your stomach. Even if he wasn’t scared off, you might make the experience so terrible he’d never try again. You had no idea what the fuck you were doing.

You lean over the sink, wetting your hands and pressing the cold water to your neck. The things you want in life could sometimes be found outside your comfort zone. Or something. Your best friend had given you a pep talk a few days ago when you’d been unable to keep in all your anxieties. You huff out a small laugh, amused one of her rambling inspirational speeches actually stuck in your mind a little.

When you reemerge the balcony door is wide open, Minho leans against the railing—looking out at the city lights. You take one final deep breath then follow him out, deciding to be brave and placing one of your hands gently over his. He looks down at your hands, then to you. When he pulls his hand away your heart drops. Then he turns to face you, placing his hand at your waist. All your concentration goes into keeping your breathing even. You imagine a little crew in your brain, panicking and sending all resources to maintain an outward appearance of calm. You hope it’s working.

He pulls you a little closer, his eyes dropping to your mouth before looking up again. “Did you really like my pudding or were you just being nice?”

Not what you were expecting. You blink a few times as you attempt to regather your thoughts. “I liked it, really. It was the nicest pudding I've ever had. I really would like you to teach me how you made it.”

“So sweet,” he mutters, mouth curving into one of his little half smiles. You drop your eyes to his chest, totally unprepared to deal with a comment like that. It doesn’t stop him from continuing. “Do you know how sweet you are? What it does to me? Drives me fucking crazy.”

You can’t help looking up at his eyes, a little shocked by his language. He was always so soft around you, including his language. “Like that,” he continues. “Your eyes right now, all wide and innocent. I’ve tried…to wait for you to show me you’re ready. That you want me. Then you showed up today in those little shorts, smiling at me like the fucking sun.” His hand at your waist moves up and down, a gentle caress. “Can I have you? Please? Tell me I can have you.”

You know you’ve failed at keeping a calm outward appearance, your chest rises and falls erratically. You lift your hands to your cheeks, they’re burning. He drops his hand from your waist, both his hands wrapping around your wrists to pull your hands from your face gently.

“Please,” he breathes.

Good things are outside your comfort zone, you repeat in your head. If this worked out you were going to buy your friend a car full of her favourite snacks… and a puppy. A million puppies. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his. He keeps his hold on your wrists, holding your arms up on each side of you. It isn’t until you pull away that he drops them, wrapping both arms around you to pull you tightly against him. He resumes the kiss you’d started. His lips are pillowy against yours. He tastes like the pudding he’d devoured. You wrap your arms around his neck and he turns you, pushing you back until you’re pressed into the wall.

By the time he pulls his lips from yours you’re practically panting, attempting to catch your breath. Each of his arms frame your head against the wall. “Was that a yes?” he says, breath equally uneven.

You’re confused for a second, completely lost. Yes?… oh. Can I have you? You drop your eyes to his chest again. Was this the right moment to tell him? You imagined him backing away, trying to find the words to tell you he wasn’t into you enough to deal with the baggage.

“I—It’s just…”

He drops his hands from the wall, taking a small step back. He looks vulnerable, but he’s quiet—waiting for you to finish.

“I’ve never really done this before. I don’t want you to sign up for this—for me—and then back out. I don’t think I can handle it,” you finish, sucking in a deep shaky breath.

“Why would I back out?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been in a real relationship, I’ve never liked someone like this, I’ve never—” you pause, all the courage draining from your body. He takes a small step towards you again.

“Never…?”

“Slept with anyone.”

He presses one hand to the wall again, the other brushing your hair over your shoulder. “I’m not asking to fuck you, I’m asking you to be mine. You tell me if you ever want to give the rest a try, and I’m here.” His palm moves up to cup your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he whispers.

“But I do,” you whisper back. You’re not sure why you’re both being quiet. There’s no one to overhear. You’re grateful for it anyway, the words are easier to get out in hushed tones. “I do want to, I really, really want to.”

He smiles, then presses his lips to yours softly. “Really, really?,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice taking on a teasing tone you were very used to at this point.

“Are you sure you want me? In that way…”

“I really, really want you. I want you if you want to stay here with me tonight and let me show you how good I can make you feel…and I want you if you want to wait. I just want you, whichever way you’ll let me have you.”

“Why?”

“I spend any free day I have with you.” He takes one of your hands and presses it to his chest, over his heart. “You make me feel steady. You make my life feel bright, and warm…and hopeful…” He presses his forehead to yours. You close your eyes. “I want to make yours warm too. I want to give you what you give me. Let me,” he finishes.

His lips hover over yours, brushing them so lightly it tickles. You press forward suddenly, pushing into him hard. He stumbles back a step, huffing a laugh into your mouth and wrapping his arms around you.

You’d spent months with him, hearing all his worries and hopes and dreams. He made you nervous and giddy and now finally… hopeful. Hopeful that he might want you back the same way. His hand slips under the hem of your shirt, thumb brushing against your skin. You crash back down, remembering why you hadn’t had this before. How you’d looked in the mirror minutes before. You take a big step back, his arms dropping from you.

“S-Sorry,” you sputter out, stepping back again until your back hits the wall. “I don’t think I can do this.”

You watch his face fall, his sad eyes making you hate yourself more. Coward. “This?” he asks, gesturing between you. “As in right now? Or this as in us in general?”

“General. In general. I’m just not—I’m not right.”

He frowns, one foot stepping towards you and then he hesitates—keeping his distance. “Not right?” he asks, brows furrowed in confusion. You sigh, suddenly exhausted. He rocks forward a little, like he’s deciding whether to stay away, and then steps towards you slowly. “What do you mean ‘not right’?” he asks again.

Your eyes trail up his body as he steps closer. When he stops, directly in front of you again, you lift one finger to trace down his face. “Do you know how lovely you are? How beautiful? In every way,” you whisper.

He lifts his hand to take your wrist. “What do you mean by ‘not right’?” he repeats.

“For you.”

“Shouldn’t I decide that for myself? I choose you. I want you. You’re everything.”

“You haven’t seen me,” you blurt out, instantly regretting it. You drop your eyes to the ground.

He’s quiet for a moment. “Fully? Is that what you mean? Without clothes?”

You groan, more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life. He lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Can you trust me enough to believe me when I say I think you’re perfect. I’m so—” he pauses, eyes flicking across your face. “I really, really like you,” he says, lips curving a little. “Let me show you how much? Just say stop whenever you need. I just want to show you how beautiful you are, hm?”

“You’re…you’re sure?”

“Really, really sure.” He offers you a small reassuring smile.

You’re quiet for a moment, considering if you really were brave enough for this. Then you look up at him, patiently waiting for you. You reach down to take his hand, pulling him with you as you re enter his apartment. You lead him past his bathroom, to the closed door you’d seen earlier. It had to be his bedroom. You stop with your hand on the door knob, looking up at him for permission. He presses his hand over yours, pressing the handle down and pushing the door open. Then he takes the lead, pulling you slowly into the room.

He lets go of your hand to walk around the bed and flick a small light on, filling the room with a soft light. You’re grateful he didn’t go for the ceiling light. He unbuttons the top of his shirt as he approaches you. “Will you do the rest for me?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, beginning with the button second from the top. You’re amazed at the steadiness of your hands, especially considering the rate at which your heart is beating in your chest. You keep your eyes directly ahead of you, on each new patch of his skin you reveal as you work your way down.

When the last button is freed, and each side of the shirt falls open to reveal his bare torso, you can’t help reaching up to press each of your palms on his chest. He’s so warm—and if you concentrate, you can feel his heart beating in his chest. You run your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, pushing the white button-down shirt off as you go. You come back to yourself as it hits the ground, pulling your hands from him quickly.

He wraps his fingers around your wrists, preventing you from retreating completely. You look up into his eyes as he places your hands on his chest again. “It’s okay,” he says, his voice taking on a gentle tone. Even gentler than usual. “You can touch me. Wherever you like.”

You smile, then push—hard enough for him to fall back onto the bed. A look of determination crosses his face and he reaches for you, pulling you back down with him. “Got you,” he mutters just before pressing his lips to yours. He rolls over you, pressing his body down into yours—not all his weight, just enough to feel comforting. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he says between kisses. You hum against his mouth and he pulls back just enough to speak. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you answer before pulling him back down again. You’re so consumed by him you forget all your worries for a few blissful minutes.

It isn’t until his hand slips under the hem of your shirt again you remember why you’d been so nervous. He must notice you tense up because he halts his movements. “Want me to stop?” he asks.

“No, just…nervous.”

“You’re okay.” He lifts the hem of your shirt slowly, keeping his eyes on your face. “I’ve got you.”

Your eyes flick to his pouty upper lip. You think about all the times you’d thought how much you loved it, how this small feature on his face was a part of him you adored so much. Surely, others must have those thoughts about you. It wasn’t impossible, anyway. You wonder if Minho did.

He pulls your shirt over your head and you squeeze your eyes shut. It didn’t make sense. Closing your eyes didn’t stop him seeing you. You supposed it did stop you seeing his reaction. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he whispers, his breath tickling your lips. “Look at me,” he encourages.

You peek one eye open. He looks down at you, eyes a little hooded. “Good girl,” he says, kissing you softly. He presses small kisses across your cheek, down to your neck. He speaks in between. “Remember what I said earlier? How sweet you are?”

You breath hitches as he sucks gently on a sensitive patch of skin just above your clavicles. You picture his pillowy lips on your skin, the pouty upper lip you love so much.

“You’re sweet inside and out, aren’t you honey? Hm? So fucking sweet,” He keeps muttering as his kisses move down to your breasts, his soft lips pressing to the skin peaking out from your bra. An embarrassing noise escapes your throat. He looks up at you. “What was that? Did you make a sweet little noise for me?”

“Min?”

“Hm?”

“Should I take this off?” you ask, fiddling with the bra strap over your shoulder.

“Whatever you want. Do you want it off?”

“I—I think so.”

He lifts himself off you and you sit up to watch him move up the bed to adjust himself against his pillows, patting his lap. “Come here, I'll help you.”

You crawl up the bed, feeling a little awkward as you climb into his lap. You wrap your arms around your stomach. He presses his face to your neck, humming against your skin. Knowing he couldn’t see you, you relax a little—moving your arms from your waist to wrap around his neck. His fingers fiddle with the clasp at your back, not rushing to remove it once he’d succeeded in undoing each one. He lets go, letting the bra fall apart—the straps falling down your shoulders a little. He keeps his face buried in your shoulder, running his hands up and down your back gently.

“Doing so well,” he murmurs into your skin. A little shiver runs up your spine.

You pull back, attaching your mouth to his quickly—distracting him with your lips as you slip the bra down your arms and drop it onto the bed next to you. He pulls you against him. A few hours ago a brush of his fingers was enough to make your chest tighten, and now you’re half naked—bare chests pressed tightly together, his soft lips attached to yours. A short wave of dizziness passes over you at the realisation, pulling away from him slightly.

“Will you lie down for me?” Minho says, his voice a little breathy.

You nod, climbing off him so you can lay back against the pillows next to him. You hold your breath, scrutinising his face for any flicker of disappointment as his eyes scan over your bare chest for the first time. He climbs over you and falls forward, attaching his lips to the skin between your breasts—offering you no warning. You grip the sheets next to you, overwhelmed as he begins kissing a trail towards your nipple.

You can’t help gasping as he sucks it into his mouth, wet tongue playing with you much like he had your red lollipop. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to you—too overwhelmed to feel shy about it. He groans, the vibrations against your wet nipple triggering a whine to slip from your throat.

By the time he’s given the same treatment to the other, you’re not even trying to hold back the small sounds you’re making—whining and moaning his name. Your eyes are hardly open when he moves up to kiss you, his lips wet against yours. You hardly move, letting him press sloppy kisses over your mouth. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs between kisses, drawing a whimper out. “Gonna make you feel good.”

“Min—Minho…”

“Mm? What is it, sweetheart?”

“You really—You really think so?”

He presses one last kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Think what?” he whispers, pulling back so he can see your face—a knowing smirk on his lips.

“What you said.”

“What did I say?”

“That I'm…” you trail off, unable to get the word out.

“Say it,” he encourages, brushing his thumb over your lips. Your eyes drop to his lips, wet and swollen.

“Perfect,” you whisper, barely audible.

“So fucking sweet,” he groans, trailing kissing from your lips down to your stomach. When he reaches the hem of your shorts he looks back up at you. “Okay?” he asks, fingers playing with the zip.

“Yeah,” you breathe, throwing your head back as he slowly pulls the small zipper down and works them gradually down your thighs. You squeeze your eyes shut as he pulls them off your legs and settles himself between your thighs, pushing them apart gently.

“Open your eyes, hm?” he says, the tone of his voice increasingly sweet the more clothes he removes from your body. “It’s okay,” he soothes, his palms massaging over your thighs. “So soft… perfect. You’re fucking perfect, yeah?”

You suck in a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of his warm hands so close to your centre. “Yeah?” he repeats, clearly seeking a response.

“Yeah,” you whimper, fingers tangling in the sheets at your side. When his finger brushes lightly over your cunt—cotton underwear the only barrier between you—your back arches off the bed.

“So sensitive for me…gonna get so you fucking needy, mm?” he mutters, still in his sickly sweet tone—fingers brushing your skin at the edges of your underwear. You fail at keeping your eyes open, squeezing them shut as you twitch and squirm at his teasing touches. He continues muttering small praises, dragging it out until you’re desperate for him to touch you properly.

Your two minds battle, one desperately wanting to feel his fingers on you, the other embarrassed by the idea of him seeing you like that—seeing that part of you. You take in the situation you're in, how far you’ve come. You’re nearly entirely bare, laid back on his bed—nipples wet from his kisses. You suck in a deep breath. “Min?”

He huffs out a small laugh. “Mm, baby?”

“Can you…take them off, please?”

He crawls up your body, his face hovering over you—forcing you to look into his eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, mouth opening as he sucks in a breath, then closing again. Whatever it is, he decides against it—pressing a kiss to your lips so gentle a shiver ripples down your body.

He shuffles back down. You hold your breath, expecting him to pull your underwear down with the same slow patience he did with your shorts. He doesn’t. He hooks his fingers over the hem, pulling them down quickly—without any hesitation at all. You have no time to feel shy, brain blanking as he attaches his mouth directly to your cunt. He hums against you, muttering something you can’t make out.

“Feel—”

He lifts his head, looking up at you—his hair flops into his eyes. “Mm?”

“Feels nice,” you whine. “Thank—Thank you.”

He licks his lips, then smiles. “You’re thanking me for licking your sweet little cunt?” he asks sweetly.

You cover your face with your hands, unable to look him in the eyes. Then his mouth is on you again, catching you off guard. Your hips rise up involuntarily off the bed, grinding up into his face. “Knew you would be the sweetest fucking thing, hm? Thanking me for tasting you…” He presses your hips into the bed, holding you down so he can keep his mouth on you—wet, messy noises filling the room again.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, overwhelmed by the filthiness of it all. A few hours ago you’d been fixated on his tongue circling a lollipop, and now he was pressing the same tongue into your throbbing cunt. The thought of it pushes you over the edge, Minho’s hands pushing you harder into the mattress as you squirm—riding out your high. You whimper when it’s too much, Minho pulling his head from between your legs when you fall limp against his sheets.

You’re vaguely aware of wet kisses trailing up your body, staring at the ceiling as you wait for your mind to return from wherever it just flew off to. Then Minho’s messy face appears above you, his lips drenched from completing his mission successfully. “You want more or have you had enough?” he asks, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“More?”

He smiles. “Mm, you’ve tried my mouth. Do you want to try my cock?”

You blink, shocked at his language—still totally unused to hearing him speak this way. “Okay,” you whisper.

“Say stop whenever,” he reminds you, climbing off the bed and wandering off somewhere. You’re too fucked out to care, sucking in a deep breath and turning to look out his open window. The sky is clear, offering you a perfect view of the moon. It looks like it might be a full moon. You’d watched the sun disappear at the start of the night, and now the moon watched you.

Minho returns, resuming his position between your legs. “Would you like to help me?” he asks, offering you a small square of foil. You lift yourself to your elbows and then Minho leans forward to wrap his arms around you to help you sit up fully. You take the small square from him carefully.

“I don’t… know how.”

“Would you like me to help you or do you just wanna watch?”

“Watch,” you answer, holding the wrapped condom back out to him. “Hold it for me for a sec?” he says, climbing off the end of the bed. He stands then turns and beckons you forward. “Come here,” he says, patting the end of the mattress.

You crawl towards him, tucking your legs under you to sit at the edge. You keep your eyes on his fingers as he undoes the buckle on his belt, then pulls it through his belt loops in one smooth movement. “Do you want to take them off for me?” he asks, gently taking the condom from your fingers.

You nod, reaching forward to zip his fly down—still avoiding looking at his face. You pause when it’s down fully, unsure if you should just tug them down. His hands cover yours, guiding you up to his waistband. “You can take both off at once,” he says, leaving you a little confused before you realise he means his underwear. Oh god. You can do this. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his underwear at each hip, your fingers brushing his skin.

You tug, dealing with a little resistance until they're over the curve of his ass. You suck in a little breath as his cock is freed, directly in front of your face. It curves up towards his stomach and you absentmindedly let go of his pants, distracted. It bounces a little as he steps out of his clothes and then his hand wraps around it. You look up. His eyes are fixed on your face, eyes hooded.

“Watch,” he breathes. Your eyes drop down again, watching as he rolls the condom down his length. Your eyes flick between his twitching cock and the prominent veins in his hand. You're still throbbing between your legs. You can’t tell if it’s residual from your high, or you’ve just never come down—building back up to another.

“All good, sweetheart?” he asks, gripping himself at his base. You pull your eyes back up to his face again.

“Good,” you whisper.

He walks around the bed, your eyes track him as he moves. When he’s laying on his side against the pillows he pats the bed. You crawl up to him, unsure where he wants you. “Face the window,” he says.

You lie down against the pillow, his back to you. The moon still watches. His arm wraps around you and then you feel his breath on your neck. “Got your sweet cunt all wet…” he breathes into our skin. “Now gotta do the same for my cock.” His lips are pressed to your skin as his fingers begin caressing your thigh.

“How?” you whisper.

He pressed his back firmly against yours. “Like this,” he says just as his cock spreads through your folds. You gasp, hand reaching back to grasp his arm. He pauses, cock resting up against you.

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me what feels good,” he says, pressing another kiss to the skin behind your ear.

“Ev—everything.”

He rolls his hips. “This?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Talk to me,” he encourages.

“Feel good… your…. you feel good against me.”

“Against you where?” he says sweetly, continuing his grinding.

“Min,” you gasp.

“Where, sweetheart?”

“Pussy. My pussy.”

One of his hands comes around you to grasp one of your breasts, his movements against you a little harder. He groans, muttering into your ear with each thrust. “So sweet…wet…mine…” His cock brushes your clit with each roll of his hips, working in combination with the words he pants in your ear to wipe your mind clear. His words and his body against yours. That’s it. Your entire world.

You feel it building again. You’ve never come twice this close together before. You feel like you never came down properly, now just building on top of your last. Your hips stutter, pushing back against him hard—a flood of wetness coats your thighs. You gasp, the first feeling that filters back into your head is confusion, then embarrassment.

“Oh, god. God. Sorry—I’m—I’m sorry. I’m—”

“Shh, baby. You’re perfect,” he groans, hips still grinding into you. “A fucking dream,” he groans and then he’s over you, pressing his lips against yours hard. “You squirted, sweetheart.” His voice is the sweetest you’ve heard all night, heard ever. It seemed like the dirtier the words that left his swollen lips, the sweeter the tone that accompanied them. “All over my fucking cock, mm?”

He looks at you like you’d just offered him his favourite dessert. “You—are you going to…do it now?” you ask, looking down between your bodies.

“Do what? Fill you?” he says, his pretty lips curved into a smirk. You nod. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” you say, proud of how confident your voice sounds this time. You wanted him to know. How much you really did want him. How much you’d dreamt of him like this. “Please,” you add.

“Please?” he repeats back to you. “You can have anything. You know that? Anything I can give you,” he threads his fingers in your hair at the back of your head, holding you firmly so you can't look away. “You have no idea…” he mutters under his breath, lips ghosting over yours.

You feel him, nudging at your entrance. You hold your breath.

“Breathe,” he says, hot breath against your lips. “Breathe, sweetheart. Just relax, I’ve got you.” He keeps his eyes fixed on yours as he presses in slowly, then out again. You’d expected him to push in all the way, like ripping off a bandaid. You lift your head slightly to connect your lips as the tip of his cock works you open, teasing your throbbing entrance.

“More,” you mutter into his mouth. He obeys, pressing a little further inside. A small sound escapes your throat, signalling a little twinge of discomfort. He pulls back, stilling for a moment until you nod then begins working into you gradually again. He distracts you with his lips, with his hands on your tits, with sweet words against your lips. Then you’re full. He’s still as you adjust to the feeling of it. He was… inside you.

You’d been so convinced for months that someone like him could never want you in this way, and now he was inside you. “Min?” you whisper against his lips.

“Mm?”

“I like you a lot.”

You can feel his mouth curve against yours. “Very, very much?”

Warmth fills your chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Very, very, very much.”

“I like you more,” he says, hips grinding against you a little.

You're lost in his kisses as he works himself up, increasing his pace a little as you adjust to the feeling of him filling you. Then he starts moaning. The small sounds that slip from his lips into your mouth make you wish you’d been brave earlier—that you could get back all the time you’d wasted being afraid. He was worth being brave.

“You’re so good to me,” you whisper against his lips, drawing another pretty moan out of him. “I’ve always thought you were so lovely, ever since we first met. You were so kind and thoughtful…and beautiful.”

“Sweetest…” he mutters between moans, “...the fucking sweetest.”

“Will you come for me, Min? Please?”

He drops his head to your neck, hips stuttering into you. You wrap your arms around him, stroking his back in gentle circles as he moves against you a little more. Then he stills completely. His weight against your body reminds you of the weighted blanket you used to soothe your anxiety at night. You turn your head as he pants in your neck, the moon still bright and clear in the sky.

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