#but i also can’t deny the fact i had fun doing so and i still do 😭

[dapndots]

my takes and headcanons are pulled from the thinnest of air that’ll make you go “is that even the character anymore”

[puckinghischier]

Fakers

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader needs jack to be her fake boyfriend, and it leads to something very not fake

notes: hello!! it’s literally 2am and i just finished this, so needless to say it’s unedited, but i love this fic so much. i combined two different requests for it and i had so much fun with it. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

also i’m starting a tag list in the comments, so let me know if you’d like to be added!! 🫡

request: from my 400 follower celly - You owe me.” “I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to be your partner to get your parents off your back” & “A realizing that they have feelings for B when they see them with someone else”

[5.4k]

“Jack! Please tell me you’re home. It’s an emergency!” you frantically slam his apartment door shut.

Searching the large space for any signs of life, you beg for him to be home.

“Jack! C’mon! It’s urgent!” you yell out, walking down the hallway towards his bedroom.

You twist the knob of the closed door, finding it locked. Huffing, you start beating your fist against the wood.

“Open up! I know you’re in there!”

You continue your assault on the door, stopping only when the door opens and your fist meets air. You step back in surprise, nearly hitting Jack square in his bare chest.

A soaking wet, shirtless Jack stands in front of you with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“God, what took you so long? I texted you SOS on my way over here,” you barreled past him, walking into his bedroom.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not like I just had a grueling three-hour practice or anything. God forbid I take a hot shower afterwards,” Jack throws his hands up in the air, watching you walk straight for his closet.

You and jack had been friends since the second you moved to Jersey, the sassy brunette being just what you needed to make you feel at home in the unfamiliar state.

As you were moving in down the hall, Jack had half of the team over at his apartment watching game film in preparation for a week of road games.

Him and few teammates walked out into the hallway to investigate the loud bangs they kept hearing, watching you try to squeeze a bookshelf into your apartment that was three times the size of the doorway.

An hour later you had a disassembled bookshelf and four very attractive men in your living room.

Jack had recruited some of his teammates, as you later learned, to help you put the bookshelf back together.

You apologized for interrupting their plans, the rest of Jack’s teammates still in his apartment, and insisted they go back to their friends. You told them you could handle putting back together a bookshelf, even though you had absolutely no idea what you were doing.

They waved off your concerns, telling you they needed to help you finish what they started.

After the bookshelf was put together and in place, Jack invited you over to his apartment, deciding they had watched enough film for that night, using the incentive of pizza to lure you. You would’ve objected, seeing as he invited you into an apartment full of strange men, but the pang of hunger in your stomach threw all caution to the wind, leading your feet three doors down and into the strange apartment.

You gained a whole group of friends that night, not knowing until a week later your new friends were Jersey’s own professional hockey team.

Jack and Luke helped you finish the rest of your move in, spending more and more time with your new neighbors as the days went on. You added weekly take out dinners into your schedules and alternating hockey watch parties in each other’s apartments, the brothers insisting you need to learn to love the game.

You can’t deny the fact that you started developing feelings for the middle Hughes pretty quickly, his fun energy and magnetic personality roping you in. The nature of your friendship was extremely laid back, the two of you bickering nearly as much as you made the other laugh. Luke often said the two of you either act like an old married couple or newlyweds that already resent each other.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out, however, that Jack was too focused on living the hockey lifestyle to settle down anytime soon. You noticed the flow of girls in and out of his apartment, having met a few on their way out in the mornings on your way to work.

Attempting to push your feelings to the back of your mind, you continued spending time with the rowdy athletes. A small part of you still held out hope, especially after Jack gave you a key to their apartment, telling you he was tired of having to get the door every time you decided you wanted to come over.

Which is exactly how you were able to enter his apartment now, in your desperate time of need.

You knew your parents were going to visit you once you had settled in. The piece of information they left out, though, was that they scheduled a dinner with the lawyer son of one of your dad’s coworkers that also happens to live in the city.

Now, sifting through his closet in search of an outfit appropriate for the high-end restaurant your parents reserved for tonight, you worry about Jack’s reaction to your – and now his – predicament.

“Jack, don’t you own anything that isn’t designer? I don’t want my parents to think you’re a douche throwing his money in everyone’s face,” you slide each Tom Ford, Armani, and his one Gucci suit to the side.

Jack, still standing with his hand on his open door, starts walking over to you, crossing his arms.

“So, you not only barge into my apartment unexpectedly and interrupt my shower, but you’re now criticizing my formal wear?” he asks before realization shows on his face. “Wait, what do you mean your parents? And why are you so dressed up?” he suddenly notices your floor-length, black formal dress and full face of make-up.

You turn to face him slowly, an overexaggerated, nervous smile on your face.

“Well…you’re…meetingmyparentstonight,” you mumble out, running your words together.

“Run that back one more time?” Jack asks you, eyes widening.

“You’re meeting my parents tonight,” you say at a normal pace this time, doing small jazz hands.

Groaning, Jack turns away from you, placing his hands on the top of his head as he paces.

“What did you do?” he asks, still pacing, knowing how you are and that you’re only ever this anxious about stuff when there’s a reason.

“Okay, so don’t get mad,” you start, placing your hands out in front of you as if you’re calming down a wild animal.

“Oh, great, that’s always followed by good news,” Jack rolls his eyes, stopping to stand in front of you.

“I might have, maybe, just a little bit…told my parents that you were my boyfriend,” you rush out again, closing your eyes and wincing.

Jack doesn’t respond, not making a single sound. You slowly open one eye, waiting for him to start scolding you. You see him standing there, wide eyes and frozen.

“You told…parents…your boyfriend?” his broken sentence amuses you, but you have to hold in the laugh, figuring laughing at him wouldn’t do you any favors right now.

“Yes,” you confirm, causing Jack to close his eyes and inhale, his hand flying up to press against his forehead. “But! They’re trying to set me up on a blind date with one of my dad’s stuck-up coworker’s sons. You know I told them I’d never date a lawyer,” you explain, stepping closer to Jack, testing the waters. “Plus, I hate being set up, Jack. One of my dating requirements is friends first, date later.”

“Why?” Jack now pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why in the hell would you tell your parents I’m your boyfriend? I haven’t dated in someone in…I don’t know, three years? This should’ve been a Luke job.”

“Because you’re my best friend. It wouldn’t have been believable with Luke because I don’t know him as well as I know you,” you tell him, watching him open his mouth to argue. “Plus, you owe me.”

Jack scoffs. “Oh, I owe you, huh? Do tell, what for?”

“When I bought your sushi last week because you forgot your wallet at the rink when I met you out for lunch.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Are you serious? I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your boyfriend to get your parents off your back!”

“But…a day of pretending to be my boyfriend can pay your $20 debt,” you smile and tilt your head, batting your eyelashes.

Jack mulls the idea over in his head for a few moments, deciding on if he’s going to help you or not. You continue batting your eyelashes and giving Jack your trademark puppy dog eyes.

“Fine…give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready,” he grumbles, shoulders deflating a little.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squeal, doing a happy jump and running over to hug him.

You realize a second too late he’s still damp and very naked, jumping back and apologizing mere seconds after you made contact with his bare skin.

“I’ll go wait in your living room,” you say, turning and heading towards his door.

“I’m wearing the Gucci, by the way,” he calls out as you reach the doorway.

“Please, at least wear the Armani so they think you’re poor rich, not rich rich,” you hear him laugh as you shut his door.

Just as Jack told you, twenty minutes later you’re in his car on the way to some rooftop restaurant your parents reserved for your ‘family’ dinner.

“So, what’s our story?” Jack asks, breaking the silence.

“Our story?” you repeat, confused.

“Yeah, our story. Like, what was the magical moment we realized we were actually more than friends and were head over heels with one another?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You look over at him, a small smirk on his lips.

“Do you seriously think I went into that much detail when I stuttered out ‘oh…I uhh…forgot to tell you, Jack and I are dating now!’ when my mother mentioned Ben was joining us for dinner?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

You scoff at him, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms.

“We don’t have a story. Mom didn’t ask questions so I didn’t offer any,” you respond, looking over at him.

“Wait, she didn’t ask any questions? What was her response?” he asked you, glancing over at you every few seconds.

“No? She just said it was great and to invite you to dinner too, maybe you and Ben would get along,” Jack’s furrowed brow confusing you.

“Shit, Y/N, she doesn’t believe you,” he sits up straight.

“She doesn’t?”

“No, she doesn’t. If she believed you then she would have told Ben not to come. If she believed you, she would have grilled you with questions and squealed with excitement. She wouldn’t have just accepted the answer and told you to bring me along like some pet,” you note the worry in his tone.

Thinking about your mother’s reaction, you remember the uninterested tone she used when telling you how great it was you were with Jack. The lack of enthusiasm definitely uncharacteristic from your mom. You had just assumed she was shocked, not that she didn’t believe you.

“Holy shit you’re right! She didn’t believe me. What are we gonna do?” you reach down the hand resting in your lap and start picking your thumb nail on again, extremely worried they’ll see through your bullshit the second you sit down at the table.

Jack notices the anxious habit of yours, reaching over and placing his hand over your own, effectively stopping your movements.

“We give them the best damn performance of our lives.”

———————————————————————————

As soon as you walk onto the open rooftop, you think you should’ve let Jack wear his Gucci suit.

The dimly lit space is full of people in expensive looking dresses and crisp, clean suits.

You suddenly feel very underdressed.

The hostess leads you over to a table in the corner, you and Jack being the last to arrive.

Jack’s hand is held tightly in yours, the small pep talk he gave you in the elevator already forgotten.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here!” you hear your mother’s voice as you approach the table, breaking you out of your wardrobe anxieties.

You give a tight-lipped smile, keeping yourself pressed against Jack’s side.

“Well, don’t just stand there, give me a hug!” she exclaims, standing from her seat, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You reciprocate her actions, placing your hands on her back.

“Honey, you look so good. I hope this place has been kind to you,” she places her hands on your face, a smile beaming back at you.

You nod at her. “Yeah, I love it here so far.”

She lets you go, her smile never fading.

“Alright, where’s the hug for your old man?” you hear your dad speak from somewhere behind you, turning to see him walking towards you with open arms.

Sinking into his hug, you let yourself enjoy the feeling. Getting to spend time with your dad is a rarity, considering he’s part of a big law-firm back home. He was always working late and missing holidays when you were a kid, your experience with him why you always swore you’d never marry a lawyer like your mother did.

“I missed you, Dad,” you tell him honestly, pulling back from his embrace.

“I missed you more, kiddo,” he pats your cheek, stepping away to take his seat at the table once again.

You hear Jack clear his throat behind you, reminding him that you need to introduce him.

“Oh! Mom, Dad,” you turn back and reach your hand out towards Jack, “this is Jack, the neighbor I’ve been telling you about.” Jack squeezes you hand, reminding you he’s your boyfriend tonight, not your neighbor. “Well…I guess I need to introduce him as my boyfriend now, cause we’re dating!” you say a little too enthusiastically, lifting your intertwined hands for everyone to see.

Jack chuckles, bringing his free hand over to push your joined hands down.

“Hi, I’m Jack, Y/N’s neighbor boyfriend,” he reaches over to shake your dad’s hand.

You notice your mom’s skeptical smile, standing to give Jack a short, half hug.

As you scan the area, trying to find anything else to focus on other than your lack of being able to play it cool, you notice the third body at the table.

You look at the man, his jet black, scruffy hair not at all what you were expecting. He was extremely handsome, you had to give him that. His blue eyes stood out against the dark setting, his black dress shirt under his black suit jacket causing them to stand out even more.

“Well, since introductions are being made, this is Ben, Jim’s boy. He works at a firm just a few miles away, actually,” your dad beams as Ben stands, walking around the table to give Jack’s hand a firm shake.

They exchange a short greeting before Ben makes his way over to you, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles, taking you by surprise.

“Pleasure to meet you…” he trails off, keeping eye contact as he raises back up into a standing position. “Both of you,” he adds as an afterthought, letting go of your hand and glancing at Jack.

“Yeah…you too,” Jack’s tone is laced with an emotion you can’t quite pick up on, but the glare he’s sending Ben is extremely noticeable.

As everyone takes their seats again, Jack scoots your chair out for you before sitting in the chair beside of you, taking your hand in his and resting them on the table.

Small talk is exchanged about Jack’s job, a disapproving nod from your father, your mother asking questions about what he plans to do after his career is over, making sure to throw in digs about how young hockey players are required to retire and the fact that contract money runs out fast with the lifestyle athletes live.

Jack handles them in stride, talking about how he wants to get into coaching once his career comes to an end, but he wants to play hockey for as long as he’s physically able. He also informed your parents that his mother instilled in him how to budget, making sure his necessities are always paid before anything else gets purchased, including a retirement fund.

The conversation then shifts to you and your new job, your mother filling Ben in with side comments the whole time about how you graduated with honors and was offered a big city job right out of college. Ben looked at you the entire time you were talking, seeming genuinely interested in what you were sharing.

Once the conversation shifts to Ben, that’s when the dinner starts going south.

“Ben is in line to become a partner at his firm very soon. It’s all his father talks about at work anymore,” your dad informs the table, laughing and slapping a hand to Ben’s shoulder.

“Well, there’s a few other guys in the running, I’m not a shoo-in yet,” Ben responds, trying to knock down his praise a bit.

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Ben, our Y/N here loves an overachiever, isn’t that right, darling?” your mom looks over to you.

You don’t know what to say to her, stunned that she would be so blatantly obvious about her intentions in front of Ben like this.

“I…well…Yeah, I guess,” you stutter out, not sure how to respond to your mother’s words.

“Do you excel in your field, Jack?” your mom questions your fake boyfriend of the night.

He looks up from his food, not entirely sure how to handle the question. Does he tell them the truth and risk sounding like a gloating asshole, or does he play the modest card and confirm your parent’s suspicions that he’s less than?

“Jack was team captain of team USA! And he’s an alternate captain for the Devils now! He’s also one of the team’s top point scorers,” you ramble out facts about Jack’s hockey career, sensing his hesitation.

Your father’s brows shoot up in surprise.

“Way to go man, sounds awesome,” Ben sounds genuinely impressed.

“That’s something to be proud of,” is all your mother responds.

You look over at Jack in apology, the flush of his cheeks hidden by the dark surroundings.

“Jack was also drafted number one overall in the NHL draft when he was only eighteen. Isn’t that crazy?” you continue, not knowing how to stop the information rolling from your mouth.

“Good for you, son,” your dad says through chewing his food, earning a glare from your mother.

Jack chuckles out a thanks, kicking your foot under the table.

“Always my biggest fan, huh babe?” Jack looks over at you, the look in his eyes telling you to stop, you’re being obvious again.

“Well…it’s not just your good looks that won me over,” you attempt a joke, but it didn’t land very well.

Jack winces at how that sounded.

Realizing what you just said, with the current scrutiny surrounding Jack’s choice of career, you mentally palm your forehead.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me,” you all but run away from the table.

You make your way to the small bathroom, collecting yourself and telling yourself you don’t have that long left of this torturous dinner.

When you exit the bathroom, you see Ben standing there, waiting for you to come out.

“So…is now a good time to tell you that I know you and Jack aren’t dating?” he asks you, an amused smile on his face.

Your body turns cold, every muscle frozen in place. How does he know? Has your act really been that bad?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, laughing nervously.

“Listen, you don’t have to hide it from me. I’m not here because I want to be set up with you. I’m here because I need my dad to still think I’m single,” he surprises you.

“Wait, you have a girlfriend?” you ask him, shock evident in your voice.

“Boyfriend, actually. But haven’t really broke that part to my parents yet.”

Your jaw drops, not believing that your parents are unknowingly trying to set you up with a gay man.

“Holy shit,” you start laughing, unable to hide stop your hand from shooting out to grip Ben’s arm. “I promise I’m not laughing because you’re gay. I’m laughing because my parents would die if they figured out the man they’re trying to set me up doesn’t even like girls.” You want to go over there and scream this piece of information into their faces, but know it’s not your place to out Ben.

“I hate when they try to set me up with people, and I thought it would stop since I moved away, but when they told me you were coming to dinner tonight I panicked and told them I was dating Jack because I didn’t want to have to dodge phone calls and ignore texts, again,” you bring your hand up to wipe the tears out of your eyes. “Who would’ve thought I didn’t even have to worry about it because there’s more of a chance you’d be attracted to my fake boyfriend than me.”

Ben laughs with you, allowing you to lean against him.

From the dinner table, Jack can hear your laughter, turning his head to see you leaning on Ben, the two of you being entirely too close for his liking.

“Well, looks like they’re getting along,” your mother tells your father, nodding her head in the direction of you and Ben.

Jack fully turns in his seat, watching how you talk animatedly with Ben, a large grin on your face as he returns it, looking down at you.

Something wicked swirls in Jack’s stomach, not enjoying watching you laugh with someone like you laugh with him.

He thinks back to all the times you’ve been around his apartment, complaining about the latest guy you were trying to meet up with canceling on you and how angry it makes him to see you upset. He thinks about how you always complain to him about dating apps, wishing you could just meet someone naturally, going on and on about having a ‘meet cute’ like your favorite rom coms and wondering why it always makes him think about how cute you looked trying to shove that big ass bookshelf into your apartment. He thinks about the time you brought a date to one of his games, the satisfaction of seeing you in his jersey almost enough to outweigh the sudden burst of anger he felt in the middle of the game, looking up to see his arm around your shoulders, hand resting a little too close to your chest for his comfort.

He thinks about how he’s always fending off his teammates and random men at bars, not trusting their intentions with you. And the looks that he catches Luke giving the two of you when you’re arguing, his favorite activity being getting you worked up, loving how red your ears get when he keeps firing sarcasm back at your anger.

He always assumed these feelings were a general protectiveness of you and enjoyment of being around you, almost like you were his sister, never once entertaining the idea that they could be more than that.

Until now, that is. Until you’re standing there in that dress, possibly the most beautiful he’s ever seen you, leaning all over another man when you asked him to come here with you. You asked him to be your fake boyfriend, not Mr. Big Time Lawyer.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go make sure my girlfriend is okay,” he tells your parents, dropping his cloth napkin on the table and scooting his chair back.

You’re still laughing with Ben, exchanging stories about the different set-ups your parents have tried on the two of you.

“You know, even though it’s very obvious you’re not dating, I do have to admit, I can see the feelings you two have for each other,” Ben tells you, changing the subject.

“Oh, no, we’re just friends,” you tell him, your cheeks flushing a bit.

Ben gives you a look, rolling his eyes. “Honey, anyone within a three-mile radius can see that that boy is smitten with you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

You look over at Jack who’s looking over at you and Ben.

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head, deciding you can trust Ben. “I mean, I definitely have feelings for him, have for a while, but he’s not the dating type,” you laugh. “Hell, he was worried about having to be my fake boyfriend, considering he hasn’t dated anyone in years. Anyways, the girls I see leaving his apartment most mornings says otherwise.”

“Haven’t you learned men are stupid? Someone usually has to tell them what they’re feeling. Show them what they’re missing out on,” he steps closer to you, the two of you only inches apart now. “Just like right now.”

You cock your head, confused at Ben’s words until you hear footsteps stomping towards you.

“Y/N, babe,” Jack spits out, anger radiating off of him, “can we go somewhere…private to talk?” he puts on a tight smile, watching Ben step back away from you.

“Uh, sure,” you tell him as he grabs your arm, gently leading you over to a secluded corner of the rooftop.

He stands in front of you, running his hands up his face before sweeping them through his hair.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, jutting his hand out in the direction you just came from.

“We were just-“

“You were ‘just’ flirting with the man your parents are trying to set you up with in front of their eyes when you brought me here to show them you’re not interested,” he interrupts you, frustration clear in his tone.

“Jack, you don’t understand, Ben is-“

“Perfect for you? Handsome? Your parent’s dream man for you? Better than me?” he cuts you off, his last statement taking you by surprise.

“Jack, where’s this coming from? Ben’s not better than you? What would ever make you think that?” your confusion turns to concern.

“Oh, don’t act all sad and worried now. Not when you were over here getting all close to Ben,” he waves his hands around, disgust lacing his voice as he said Ben’s name, “just mere seconds ago while I was sitting at the table with your parents, watching the whole thing and thinking about how much I love you!” he raises his voice, but not loud enough to disturb the people dining around you.

You’re so shocked at Jack’s words that you step back from him, not believing what you’re hearing.

“Jack, I-“ you start once more, but Jack’s voice cuts you off.

“I know I’m realizing this way too late, but dammit, Y/N, that man,” he points over to Ben, “is not the guy for you. I know I’ve just stood by and watched you try to go on date after date after date with men who weren’t right for you, but I think I was too scared to think about what my feelings meant. I’ve ran off so many men at bars its not even funny. Hell, I’ve told my own teammates you’re off limits, thinking I was just protecting you from getting hurt. But really, all I was doing was being selfish. I was keeping you all to myself while bringing random girls home every couple of nights after having drinks, only to kick them out first thing in the morning when I woke up and had a nasty feeling in my chest,” he pauses, his tone turning from stern to soft as he takes a step towards you.

“I’m realizing that feeling was disgust. Disgust at myself for filling my time with girls that don’t matter, girls that I would never be satisfied with because they weren’t you. I think part of me knew from the second I saw this crazy woman at the end of the hall, trying to push a bookshelf that had to outweigh her by at least a hundred pounds, through the tiny ass door of her apartment. It was confirmed when you agreed to come to my apartment and ate pizza while goofing off with my teammates, instantly clicking with every single one of them. It settled a little deeper when you showed up at my door after I had gotten home from being on the road, demanding we watch Quinn’s hockey game because it was time for you to study hockey. It was made permanent when you showed up to your first Devils game, my name and number on your back, eyes lit up in awe like it was Christmas morning,” he continues, causing tears to sting your eyes as he reaches over to cup your face in his hands.

“I ignored it for all of this time, because I think, deep down, I was scared of losing you. I was scared that you were going to see me as this dumb, jock hockey player that lived down the hall from you and let me down easy. I was scared you’d see how absolutely out of my league you are. I was scared to be vulnerable and admit that I was in love with you, because I couldn’t bear to think that you didn’t love me back,” his face is mere inches from yours. “But I’m tired of ignoring it. Seeing you, laughing with Ben, all pressed up against him like that, thinking that I might have already lost you before I even had the chance to have you, made me realize that I had to try. I had to at least…try,” he finishes, resting his forehead against yours.

The tears are fully streaming down your face at this point, not caring that you’re likely ruining the mascara you spent over fifteen minutes perfecting earlier.

“Jack, you stupid man, just kiss me already,” you whisper out, your breath fanning across his lips.

He smiles, lifting your chin up to press your lips together, sighing happily into the kiss.

You match his smile, making the kiss silly and sloppy, but you don’t care. His lips feel like they were made to fit in-between yours, the softness of them far better than you had imagined.

Pulling back from the kiss, you bring your hands up to rest on his wrists, his hands still holding your face.

“You know, if you had let me speak, I would have saved you the speech and informed you that Ben wasn’t trying to make a move on me, because Ben is gay and has a boyfriend,” Jack pulls back from you, allowing you to see the shocked expression on his face. “We were bonding over the amount of times our parents have tried to set us up with people just like this before, and then he was telling me how in love with each other we were. I was telling him how I definitely was in love with you, but I didn’t believe you were in love with me,” you laugh at Jack, the situation comical now.

“I- he’s gay?” is all Jack responds with.

You throw your head back, laughing at him. “That’s what you took away from what I just said?”

“Sorry, I just, wasn’t expecting it, is all,” he says, moving his hands to your neck, pushing your head back up to look at him.

“Oh, so you were expecting my love confession, then?” you tease him.

“Well, duh, you did ask me to be your fake boyfriend tonight,” Jack moves his hand to pinch your cheek.

“So…are you still? Fake, that is?” you ask him, placing your arms on his shoulders, clasping your hands around the back of his neck.

Jack looks down at you, the expression on his face something entirely new to you, but it’s one you can surely get used to.

“Ehh, I don’t know…ask me again the next time you need a buffer,” he shrugs, smirking at you.

You tug on a piece of his hair, causing him to hiss out.

“Geez, I’m kidding. Of course I’m your real boyfriend now. I gave you a monologue, we’re basically engaged at this point,” he jerks his head a bit, making your hands fall from his hair.

You know it’s a joke, but your cheeks heat at the implication anyways, Jack noticing your lack of response.

“Relax, I was just kidding. That’s at least three more surprise blind date dinners with your parents before we to that. I’ll even pull out a ‘fake’ ring and everything,” he winks, putting air quotes around the word fake.

As Jack enjoys the sound of your laugh, he steals a glance over at the table where your parents sit, surprised at the pleased look on your mom’s face and earning a slight nod from your dad.

He looks back down at you, face scrunched in laughter, thinking about how this night was worth way more than $20.

[jyuansgf]

nsfw content ahead. minors dni.

– how would they react if you ask them to be rough on you as much as they possibly can during sex? with jing yuan, gepard, argenti. + aftercare. cw: rough fucking, overstim, fingering. a bit of fluff on the aftercare. not proofread.

notes: thanks to my friend for terrorising me into doing this /j ^___^ jokes aside, i had fun writing this!! i didn't want to make this too long so i tried my best.. also my rules, tags everything about my blog is up on my pinned. make sure to read them byf please!! if this one actually gets attention more than i intended it to be, i'll make a part two and a genshin one ;___; 

jing yuan — 

i think jing yuan wouldn’t react any differently when you ask him to be rough on you. jing yuan has always been gentle with you ever since you two started dating—jing yuan can be either a gentleman in bed or.. just fuck your brains out? he’s actually anything you can ask for. he prioritises your pleasure and your comfort more than anything else. you want him to fuck you senseless? sure, you want some intense fucking? go for it, you want some gentle fucking as he whispers some sweet praises right next to your ear? or maybe both—he’s just the perfect man for anything. if you want him to bury your head on the pillows as he pulls on your hair and pounds you from behind, he’ll do it, only if you want him to. although he can’t deny the fact that he likes to see you fall apart on his cock, fucking you rough as possible while his fingers are buried deep inside you. as long as he can make you cum before he does, he’s happy. 

after care with jing yuan is one of the things that you two can always look forward to after having your brains fucked out—and trust me, that isn’t the only thing he’s good at. if he’s that good in bed, he’s definitely more than that when it’s after care. first thing he would ask you if there’s anything that hurts or did he go too far on you, he would even prepare a bath for the both of you (no fucking again, he says) and prepare some sweets or your comfort food after your intimate moment with him. ask him to give you a massage or tell you a random story about his childhood then he shall deliver! or if you just want to lay down on bed, he’ll make sure to clean you up if you fall asleep. he just wants the best for you, and he would be willing to give you more. make sure to thank him, the only thing he’ll ask for you is your love and embrace that he can always come home to.

gepard —

i think he would be a bit taken aback by your request, not that he doesn’t want to do it but he’s got some hesitation in him if he can go that far for you. he would be the type to ask you to show him how you want this to happen or set any boundaries, he thinks you’re someone who should be deeply taken care of in bed and he didn’t even think of this doing this with you at all, he does not want to hurt you. but he’s definitely willing to give it to you if you explain to him that this is not going to hurt you in the least.. it is your request after all. rough sex with gepard would definitely start with lots of foreplay, he’ll hesitate but once he gets the hang of it soon enough you’ll also be fucked dumb on the sheets, and he thinks that awakened something in him.. he doesn’t know that you’re the type to like this nor himself. he would often ask you if you can still take more or if you want him to stop, all his pent up frustrations or stress as a captain of belobog guards will all be poured into you that’ll leave you like a panting mess under him. don’t get him wrong though, he prioritises your release more than his, but forgive him if he accidentally cums inside you again and again.. poor guy can’t help himself at all.

after care with gepard would be a 50/50 situation for the both of you, give him time to recollect himself after because he thinks he’s not able to recover after that.. because of how good it felt. he’ll shower you with kisses and praises immediately after and would ask you questions if he did good or if it’s what you asked for. if you assure him that he did not hurt you at all, that’s the only thing he needs to hear. stay for a little chat with him in bed as you both calm down from it, he would start preparing a bath for you two as he changes the bedsheets, a little subtle kisses before going to sleep is how you two would end the night. he would really do anything for you, if you wanted him to. totally thinks he would be up to doing it again some other time. don’t tease him about it though. he’ll blush a bit if you knew how much he liked it, just a bit, he says.

argenti — 

one of the best gentlemen out there, who just aims to make you feel good no matter what. just like jing yuan, i don’t think he’ll mind it. as for someone who just wants to worship your precious body. but of course he would ask you first if you’re sure about doing it, and if you give him a sign that it’s okay, he doesn’t even hesitate on doing so. he’ll be the type to go slow on you at first, tease you until you’re ready to take him inside your warm cunny. then, the next moment you knew, he’s fucking you in such vigorous pace, would make you suck on his fingers as his lips traces over your body, and if he takes you from behind–he would even wrap his hands around your neck just to take a good look at your pretty messy face, he’ll still kiss your tears away even though he’s ramming inside your sopping wet pussy, he’ll switch by using his fingers, cock or his mouth just to overstimulate you. degrading words would definitely come out of his mouth but he does it in his own unique way (if you know, you know). he will definitely tease you but worry not, you don’t even remember how many times he had made you cum already.

aftercare with argenti? my love, you’re in for a treat. i’m sure we all know this man praises everything he sees, but when it comes to you as if he doesn’t run out of words. your afterglow with him would be definitely something, immediately would cradle you in his arm after making your legs tremble from overstimulation, he would press kisses all over your body and not a single spot would be missed. he would even press a chaste kiss on your clit after he cleaned you up, telling you were such a good girl for taking him or any words of praise that he could think of. the bath was already set up even before the two of you started, some bath bombs, scented candles, and petals scattered all over the floor. he’ll bring you some water or any snacks you prefer as he helps you clean up and after the two of you settles in bed, it would always ends with giggles and topics that the both of you share.. and of course, he doesn’t forget to praise you all over again, may he forgive you for falling asleep as he talks about how your body makes him feel good and how ethereal you are. it’s his way of making you fall asleep after all. 

[caraetdeul]

Right Beside You

Choi Seungcheol x gn!reader

Distance is nothing when you've got a love like this.

TW: None. Fluff, Long distance relationship, use of nicknames, some light cursing, slight mention of sex but nothing exclusive

A/n: this was shorter than the usual ones I write but nonetheless, it was still fun to do. Here's a fluff fic for Coups as a remedy for the angsty ones. Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

~Main Masterlist~

You’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately. If you haven’t felt the exhaustion in your body already, then the prominent bags under your eyes will definitely tell you that you are. But it’s not much of a surprise for you at this point because you know that the reason behind this isn’t something that should be astronomically studied. Instead, it all stems from the fact that you can’t sleep alone ever since your relationship with Seungcheol started.

Maybe there’s some sort of scientific reason as to why your boyfriend’s weight on your body as you cuddle up with each other is the only thing that can calm you enough to fall asleep. But maybe it can all just be a coincidence and you’re just having a mental breakdown at the thought of sleeping by yourself. Either way, nothing helps. And just like every night since Seungcheol left for his world tour, you’re left on your shared bed by yourself, staring at the ceiling while contemplating if the time difference between you won’t be much of a bother for him.

You know how tiring his work as an idol can be. Even when you’re far from him, there’s no doubt how much his job takes a toll on him just based on the updates you get from his messages and his group’s social media accounts. But even then, you still witness how hard he worked for each project they had. The passion and love that they give, not just for their work but also for their fans, are unmatched. As for you, you’ve never been so proud of someone until Seungcheol walked into your life and you always make sure he knows it. But he’ll be damned if he didn’t share the sentiment with you every time. So whenever you both come home from working all day, all your energy may be drained with the day’s demands but it will never hinder you from spending quality time within the comfort of each other’s arms. Safe to say, that was how your days always end.

Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol’s not faring any better than you. Jet lag may be a bigger factor in his exhaustion but he couldn’t deny that being without you by his side is also affecting him. Now that he thinks about it, that’s probably why the other members have been very mindful of everything that they do around him ever since they left the country. So when your phone rang just as you were about to Facetime him yourself, you knew right then and there that you weren’t alone in your misery. The relief of finally seeing your face once again washed over him the moment that you answered, the tension leaving his body in the meantime.

“Hi honey,” Seungcheol smiled sheepishly, his eyes crinkling with poorly hidden mirth, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You hummed, “No, I was already awake. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just missing you.”

Your heart melted at his innocent confession. You can feel your cheeks warm up as you reply bashfully, “I miss you too.”

Seungcheol’s smile widened but immediately turned upside down once he got a good look at you. Concern was written all over his face as he looked at you through the screen.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes.”

Seungcheol sighed and you knew he caught your lie.

“Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

You inhaled deeply, “Well, it’s not much of a why but more of a how…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how I’ve been sleeping with you ever since we got together?”

Seungcheol snorted, his cheeks turning pink, “Oh, honey.”

 Your eyes widened once you realized the double meaning behind what you just said. The screen shook as you immediately sat up, your hands waving around as you tried to explain yourself, “That’s not what I meant! I promise! I was talking about how we’re sleeping together— beside each other! Beside. Each. Other. On the bed. Innocently. Not sex. Definitely not sex. But not like I’m saying that I don’t want to do that either ‘cause I do but that’s not what I meant. I just—”

Seungcheol’s laughter finally registered in your mind, effectively stopping you from digging yourself into a deeper hole. You pouted annoyed, “I hate you.”

“I’m sorry.” Seungcheol cooed, still laughing in between words, “I couldn’t help it. You were just being all cute and shit as you tried to defend yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip as a smile fought its way onto your face. You then giggled when Seungcheol hadn’t stopped laughing, his joy outright contagious. As his laughter died down, so does yours. The air in your room was lighter than before and you only have your boyfriend to thank for.

“Now be honest, what’s the real reason why you’re not sleeping?”

You sighed, your voice softer with slight embarrassment, “I couldn’t sleep without your big arm around me and your body snuggled onto my side.”

His eyes softened, smiling remorsefully at the thought, “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I was there to be with you.”

You shook your head, “You don’t have to apologize. I know your work is very important and I know how much you enjoy it. I don’t want to be in between you and your work. I can deal with this in the meantime. This will pass, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The side of his lips twitched in thought, still unbothered by your situation despite your reassurances. His mouth opened, about to say something more but he was cut off by someone in the background shouting his name. You watched him from the other side of the screen as he talked to the person just out of the camera’s view.

Seungcheol turned back to you with a grimace, “Honey, I’m sorry but I got to go. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Please, try and get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sent a flying kiss and laughed when Seungcheol caught it in the most dramatic way possible before ending the call. It wasn’t even a minute later when the silence of the bedroom dampened your mood. You sighed, lying down on your bed once again. You check the time on the bedside table, realizing that you only have 4 hours before you need to get up and go to work. Shuffling under the covers in an attempt to get comfortable as much as you can, you closed your eyes dreading another sleepless night.

~~~~~

It’s been a week since you had that call and since then, your sleep wasn’t getting any better.

You trudged your way into your apartment, exhausted from a stressful day at work. You probably had 3 cups of coffee already by lunchtime and an energy drink that was given to you by your coworker who had already witnessed you nodding off multiple times on your desk. Despite all of it, your sleepless nights were definitely catching up to you.

You made your way to your couch, leaving your shoes messily by the door. It’ll just be future me problem, you thought as you stumble through your living room. Plopping down on your couch, you were met by a big rectangular box on your coffee table with a note on top. Your senses immediately woke up, slowly panicking at the thought that someone was inside your apartment without you knowing. You cautiously took the note, eyeing the exterior of the box as if it were some kind of bomb waiting to explode on you. But once you opened the note, your heart slowly went back to its normal pace as you read through the letter.

To my loving and gorgeous partner in crime and in life,

I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping ever since I left and I know it’s because I’m not there with you to hold you while you sleep. So to make up for my absence, I bought this for you. Hopefully, it can suffice for the time being. I even sprayed it with my perfume so it would feel closer to the real deal. Stay safe, I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Lots of love,

Seungcheol

P.S. Joshua got bored in the hotel so he begged me to embroider a small part of it. Couldn’t really deny his request when he told me his idea.

P.P.S. Please, don’t panic once you see the package in your apartment. I asked your mom to bring it to you and I told her where the spare key is.

You immediately opened the package and almost sobbed once you saw what was inside. You slowly pulled out the folded weighted blanket from the box which was also in your favorite color. Even from a distance, you could already smell Seungcheol’s perfume all over it which only made you want to cry more. As you unfolded the blanket on your lap, you finally found the embroidered part of the blanket which was on the top left corner. You laughed under your breath in amusement and awe once you realized that Joshua embroidered a chibi version of your favorite animal holding a big cherry and underneath it were both of your initials in red thread.

It was perfect.

That night, Seungcheol received a selfie of you snuggled up under the blanket with the embroidered part, which he was guessing was right over your heart. You then received a selfie of his own, which shows his dimpled smile with a half-heart sign on his cheek. Needless to say, you finally got a good night’s sleep.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys

[bunnisari]

Eren is such a brat tamer. He takes interest in girls who run wild, making reckless decisions, walking around with the worst attitude.

He finds it amusing, how easily he can manipulate you into a dumb mess for him <3

He won’t raise his voice at you anytime you piss him off. His voice is so calming and sweet-sounding but it’s a complete contrast to the way his hand is wrapped tightly around your wrist, dragging you out of a random house party.

You whine and attempt to tug your wrist away (shouldn’t have done that). “Eren I was just having fun! You’re so fucking controlling” Your drunk voice slurred out (shouldn’t have done that either) Eren stayed quiet which scared you a little, his face was unreadable. You couldnt deny the fact that you were a little scared. Your past boyfriends would’ve argued with you right in the middle of the party. But Eren was so quiet, it was scary.

He opened the passenger door, waiting until you fully get in before closing the door. You sat in silence and watched as Eren walked over to his side. The closing of the car door boxes you in. The tension is high. Eren’s sighs once again before looking over at you, right in your eyes. You immediately fold, looking down at the cup holders.

Eren cups your jaw, making you look directly at him. “Look at me, don’t do nun of that shy shit because you know damn well you ain’t shy.” You can feel your eyes get teary.

“You think i’m controlling hmm?” Eren’s thumb rubs your cheek. You don’t give an answer, feeling so intimidated by his stare. You know how Eren doesn’t go for immature childish shit.

“How am I controlling for wanting you to stay safe? I asked you not to go to this party and you did anyway. Do you know how many men would fuck you if they had the chance? They would do anything to get it… that means hurting you Y/N. Do you understand?” You nod, lips forming into a pout.

“You’re a very beautiful woman and I just wanna keep you safe. But i’m controlling right” Eren let’s go of your jaw with a laugh, leaving you to sit in guilt.

All he wanted was for you to stay safe. Whenever you went out plenty of strangers would stare at you. You’ve had your times where you had to fight off a creep all by yourself. It was certainly scary. If Eren wasn’t there to protect you then how would you protect yourself?

“I’m sorry ren” Your eyes get so blurry with twars, threatening to swim down your lash line.

He ignored your apology, turning up the music before pulling off.

Eren can’t hear your cries of his name. His black airpod max headphones sitting on his head. He has his back turned towards you, sitting at his desktop. He wasn’t paying you any attention, typing away at the computer.

You think you might’ve gone brain dead. You’ve been sitting here for more than two hours, crying and sobbing. You’ve apologized over a thousand times and he still is ignoring you. poor baby :((((

Your legs are also cramped up, the spreader bar pulling them so far apart.

The vibrator has been sending vibrations to your cunt for so long. You think your clit may be a little numb but it quickly goes away once you cum again. You’ve squirted and squirted, wetting the bed almost completely.

“E-eren….never do it again” You cry in full sobs, feeling another orgasm approaching. It starts to hurt, you’re so tired and just want a break. But you really wanted Eren to just look back and see how sorry you are. I guess you’ll just have to wait until he feels like it.

[its-time-to-write]

I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night  

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet. 

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee. 

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”  

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says. 

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants. 

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard. 

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone. 

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out. 

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table. 

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad. 

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says. 

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod. 

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say. 

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says. 

“Brill,” says Jamie. 

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket. 

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale. 

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again. 

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out. 

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red. 

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question. 

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him. 

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’” 

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house. 

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs. 

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly. 

You find him sitting under the tree. 

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt. 

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks. 

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his. 

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion. 

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him. 

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding. 

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here. 

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.  

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side. 

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him. 

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great. 

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe. 

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains. 

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family. 

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks. 

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca. 

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly. 

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles. 

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.  

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy. 

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling. 

They might know this from personal experience. 

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing. 

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you. 

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings. 

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once. 

[luizd3ad]

Happy Birthday? | Poly!Moonwaterkiller x Fem!Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Regulus Black x Barty Crouch Jr x F!Reader WC: 3,163 CW: swearing, teasing type of relationship, mostly fluff, slight angst at the end, slight talks of Regulus’s childhood, no use of Y/N Author's Note: This ship is inspired by @ellecdc please send her love. She's so talented and is just straight up amazing. Also I'm still new to writing so I hope you like it and I'm sorry if it's not good/doesn't make sense.

Summary: It’s regulus birthday so you, Remus and Barty want to make it special but sometimes things don’t go as planned.

I made this ig mood board inspired by the guy idk ive never made one before

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“Bartemius Crouch junior! I swear to all that is holy in this world! If you stick your grubby hands in the frosting one more bloody time!”

“Oh come on Lupin! You can’t blame me, it's just so fucking good!"

Barty yelled, waving his hands around trying to defend himself.

You couldn't help but laugh at hearing two of your boyfriends’ bicker while you put the chicken you just got done seasoning into the oven to cook. 

Admittedly it was quite entertaining and it helped distract you a bit from stressing over the cooking that still needed to be done and the small decorations that needed to be put up for today.

It was Regulus's birthday, so you and Remus had gotten Sirius to take Regulus out for the day so you and your partners could try and surprise him with a birthday dinner for just the four of you. 

You couldn't help but stress seeing as he should be home sooner than later at this point, and you wanted everything to be as perfect as possible since Regulus wasn't completely comfortable with celebrating his birthday still. 

He didn't find the idea of a party and things of that nature to be fun, he found it more stressful and anxiety inducing than anything. (due to his childhood)

So the three of you have always tried to do a little something to make it special for him and to show Regulus that you all love him but never anything too much as to avoid overwhelming or making him uncomfortable. 

“Barty, my love, how about you go and set up the ‘Happy Birthday’ banner?”

“Anything for you angel.”

Barty says with a look that he reserved for only you. 

It was love sick looks. The kind of look that could show the receiver every emotion the other person was feeling. It showed that you were loved by that person with their whole heart. The type of look that had both parties feeling vulnerable in the best way possible.

Even before you all had started dating, when you all were just friends in your earlier years at Hogwarts, he had always looked at you as if you hung the moon and all the stars in the sky. 

He'd look at you as if you were the only good thing left in this world, and to him you were one of the only good things left in this world.

You and two other people that he held closer to his heart than he'd probably be willing to admit most days. 

Though that didn’t mean Barty didn't love Remus and Regulus.

It also didn't mean it was a secret of how much Barty loved Remus and Regulus. In fact he loved them with all his heart. He expressed how much he loved them somewhat often in his own ways.

Especially since he could be known for his flair of the dramatics at times, he had expressed many times that he loved the three of you more than anything. 

Not that anyone could deny, or question it. More like no one would dare to deny or question it. 

Barty has expressed many times how he'd burn down cities, commit unspeakable acts and take on any unforgivable in a heartbeat for Regulus and Remus.

The love Barty held for them two was the kind of love that was teasing and could be chaotic in the best way. 

The type of love that could only be described as a ‘I can pick on them but you can't pick on them because they're mine’ in the most loving way Barty could possibly manage. And may the gods help any poor soul that ever tried to mess with someone who he deemed as his. 

But the love he had for you was a softer kind of love, it was sweet. The kind of love full of things like love sick looks, soft touches, sweet kisses and even sweeter words.

Along with the promises of burning down cities, committing unspeakable acts and taking on unforgivables’, who would expect anything less from Barty?  But I digress.

“Yes please, piss off for fucks sake.”

Remus says in an exasperated tone waving Barty away. Barty then gasps dramatically and clenches his shirt as if he was clutching his ‘pearls’. 

“You don't mean that, Remmy.” Barty all but whined. 

“Plus you couldnt get rid of me even if you wanted to.”

Barty states sending a smirk and wink at Remus, which Remus just responds with by rolling his eyes and hitting Barty with a dish towel playfully to distract Barty from the light blush that's undoubtedly spread across Remus’s face, as to avoid being teased further by him.

“Barty’s right Rem. Even if we wanted to, we're stuck with him, unfortunately.”

You say with a sarcastic little sigh while trying to suppress a smile that threatened to form due to the two men playful arguing. 

Barty then gasps dramatically once more and puts his hand over his heart as if you just stabbed him in the heart as Remus snicker at Bartys reaction and to your comment. 

“Not you as well, angel. You should know that words hurt. You've wounded me, you've basically killed me.”

Barty then pretends to sob as you and Remus shake your heads with smiles on your faces due to his behavior.

“Gods you’ve been spending way too much damn time around Sirius.”

Remus says while rubbing his hands over his face trying to hide his smile. You chuckle and walk up to Barty and give him a hug giving him your best ‘I'm sorry’ look. 

“I’m sorry Barty, I just couldn't help it. Remus has influenced me far too much.. Blame him.”

You say in fake sincerity with a small nod as you hear Remus huff at your comment.

Barty lets out a chuckle and hugs you back with a smile on his face looking down at you as he holds you. 

“It's okay angel, I could never stay upset at you. Lupin on the other hand..”

Barty drags out the end of his sentence with a small smirk on his face as Remus scoffs dramatically at his lovers’ statements.

“Really love? It's my fault is it?”

Remus says with his head tilted to the side and eyebrow raised, as if daring you to continue saying that he should be the one to blame for your ‘cruel’ comment to Barty. 

“Actually Lupin,  I think it is your fault.” Barty stated apparently agreeing with you.

“And what has brought you to that conclusion Junior?” 

Remus says as he walks toward the both of you with a small smirk on his face.

“My angel was just that, an angel. That was until you lot got your Gryffindor hands all over her.”

Barty says with a small shrug, feeling as if his point was valid and made sense. You supposed for Barty it did.

“Is that a fact?” Remus asked while getting closer to you and Barty.

“Yeah, Lupin it is actually.”  Barty says, giving Remus a somewhat challenging look.

“You don't seem to complain when I have my Gryffindor hands all over you, Junior.” 

Remus then winks at a now blushing and flustered Barty. You then cover your mouth trying to hide your own blush while also trying to suppress a giggle.

Barty tries to say some kind of come back and it  just results in him stuttering.

“W-well I- Goddamnit! That’s not fair Lupin!”

“All's fair in love and war Junior.”

Remus says sending another wink at Barty and smirking at you while Barty stares at him with wide eyes in complete silence.

He had managed to make Barty Crouch Jr speechless.

That was actually one of the many things that Remus was good at, especially at the beginning when everything was still new and more unexpected. 

When the four of you were in that space where you weren't officially dating but it was clear to you and everyone who'd been around your little group that you four had very strong feelings for each other.

It had taken Remus no time at all to get comfortable with having at least one of you flustered almost all the time, usually to the point of stuttering or speechlessness. 

He loved seeing you three like that.

Especially Barty.

Barty wasn't someone you could easily make blush let alone actually fluster, especially with just words so whenever Remus would manage to make Barty speechless he felt like he won a reward. 

Barty would never admit it but it was clear as day that Remus was good at making him a flustered stuttering mess. 

And Barty hated it.

“Now love. I believe someone owes someone an apology for trying to place blame.”

Remus says, walking up to you now at arms length and giving you a pointed look now waiting for an apology. 

While Barty mutters a ‘fucking hell’ under his breath and runs his hand through his hair as he walks towards the kitchen counter still mumbling quietly to himself.

“I'm sorry moony. Truly. Do you forgive me?” You say somewhat sincerely knowing Remus doesn't really care all that much. 

“I could never stay mad at you, love.”

Remus says with a small smile he then cups your cheek and gives you a kiss on your forehead, you lean into Remus's kiss taking in the moment and enjoying the affection from your boyfriend.

When suddenly you and Remus feel a cold, grainy substance rain down on you, which you both quickly realize is flour once the shock wore off.

You then hear a familiar giggle, and turn to see none other than a proud looking Barty standing now several feet away, covered in white powder himself. He just stands there proud of himself as if he didn't just cover you both in flour.

As you stare at him wide eyed and mouth a gasp, he just gives you a cheeky little smile.

“You did not just do that Junior.”

“Oh but I think I did, Remmy. That's what you get for teasing and being mean to me.”

Barty then sends a little wink to you and a somewhat apologetic smile.

“Sorry angel. Collateral damage, you understand.”

Barty says with a small shrug and a tone that makes it seem like it's the most reasonable thing that he has ever done.

You simply nod with the most convincing smile you could possibly muster in that moment.

“Of course my love. I understand.”

You say walking near Barty and grabbing a bowl that's filled with whipped cream that you had made earlier. You then walk closer to Barty and with a smile on your face.

“And you'll understand when I do this.”

You say while grabbing a handful of whipped cream and throwing it at Barty just for him to duck in time ending with the cream hitting Remus in the face. You gasp and cover your mouth trying not to laugh as Barty busts out laughing.

“Oh shit Rem! I'm so sorry.”

You say trying hard and failing to suppress your laughter, while Remus wipes his eyes off with his hands.

“It's okay love. All’s forgiven. Just come and give me a kiss.”

“Ummm I would love to, honestly I would… After you clean your face, that is…”

You back away from a now smiling remus while he opens his arms for you and starts walking closer to you. 

“No, now would be fine for me.”

Remus proceeds to walk closer to you as you start to back away towards Barty who's starting to calm down from his laughter.

“Why not kiss Barty?! This is all because of him anyway!”

Barty then gasps.

“Angel! I can't believe you'd throw me under the bus like that… Is it bad that I liked it?”

Barty asks the last part more to himself than to anyone else. He was so caught up in his thoughts for a second that he didn't notice you now using him as a human shield, that was until he felt a clump of whipping cream on his head and looked to see a smirking Remus. 

“Oh. This means war.”

All of a sudden it was every person for themselves. The kitchen was now a war zone. Flour, whipped cream, sugar, powdered sugar, fruits and berries were being thrown all over the place. It was pure chaos. 

The Three you were making a mess out of the kitchen and even bigger messes of yourselves.

Next thing you, you’ve been thrown over Remus’s shoulder while Barty is chasing Remus around the kitchen. 

There’s so much going on, so much laughing and screaming that no one heard the door open. Which meant no one heard Regulus make his way to the kitchen, and so no one noticed him standing in the doorway till you heard him speak.

“I leave you alone for a few hours and suddenly the kitchen explodes?”

Regulus in all his stoic glory just stood there not even looking a little surprised.

All three of you stopped running around, suddenly feeling like kids who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Then all three of you look at eachother then at Regulus.

“Happy Birthday?” You, Remus and Barty said accidentally making it sound more like a question than in an enthusiastic way.

Regulus just points at the oven says.

“The ovens smoking.”

“Oh shit! The chicken!”

You yell as Remus puts you down and he rushes to the oven to take out the now burnt chicken as smoke fills the kitchen.

“Sooo… Chinese?” Said a very uncertain Barty  

After opening some windows, having the Chinese food delivered, a few showers and quite a few cleaning spells the four of you ended up on the couch with a movie on not many words being exchanged.

After the movie was finished and the food had all been mostly finished Remus had brought out the cake that he managed to finish decorating while waiting for the food to arrive.

The three of you had sung (or in Bartys case basically screamed) Happy birthday to Regulus while he sat there with a ghost of a smile on his face. After another hour or so the four of you found yourselves in your shared bed.

You couldn't help but feel guilty since Regulus hadn't really expressed any emotion which wasn’t necessarily not normal about his birthday. You felt like maybe you had upset him in some way, maybe you over stepped or maybe he was irritated due to the mess you Remus and Barty made. 

You were spiraling. 

Till you heard a whisper.

“Thank you..” 

It was quiet for a few seconds, you supposed no one really knew what to say.

“For what Black? I feel like we kinda ruined your birthday.” Said a almost half asleep Barty

“It wasn't ruined Junior! It just didn't go.. as planned..'' defend Remus who laid on the other side of you. 

You and Regulus laid in the middle of Barty and Remus.

“Would the two of you stop bickering for just a moment please?” You say with a small shake of your head and a small chuckle. 

The next second there's a small choir of ‘Sorry angel’ and ‘Sorry love’.

“What are you thanking us for, Reggie?” 

You say pushing some of his black curly hair behind his ear looking at him softly, though he probably couldn't tell since it was dark in the room.

The only light coming through the window from the half moon.

“For today.. I know it didn't go how any of you planned or would have wanted it to go, but still. It was nice. I spent most of the day with my brother though he can be insufferable, loud and dramatic most of the time, it was still nice. And then to come home to the three people who mean everything to me laughing and having fun... That was the best part. I know I'm not the easiest when it comes to celebrating my birthday but, your three and Sirius have been the only people who have ever actually cared for my birthday. You've never treated it like how my parents did. Never used it as an excuse to have a big party full of people I didn't know or care about just so it seemed like we were better then them or make it seem like we were the perfect family, even though it was evident that we weren't. You've always made it about me and always respected what I'm comfortable with and well I appreciate that. So.. Thank you.. I love you.. All three of you..”

“We love you too Reg.” You say quietly, giving Regulus a soft kiss.

“Awwww did Regulus Black just say he loves me.” Barty practically squealed.

Barty then pulls Regulus into him so Regulus’s back is to Barty's front and then proceeds to messily kiss Regulus all over the side of his face while Regulus tries and fails to get away from him.

Remus then starts to laugh harder than you had seen in a while, almost falling off the bed as he hears the bickering between the two (mostly on Regulus' part) and sees the shadows of a struggling Regulus and a very determined Barty. 

You can't help but start to laugh almost as hard as Remus as you try and get the words out to have Barty let go of poor Regulus.

The night continues for only a few more moments it's filled with more laughing and eventually sleepy good night kisses and I love yous.

To say the four of you had an interesting relationship would be an understatement. It could be messy and chaotic, it could be a fucking headache sometimes. 

But there was love. There was always love. 

There were mornings where the four of you would wake up and just lay in bed happier than any of you thought you could ever be.

There were tender kisses and loving touches.

Dreams and promisses of the future.

There were smiles and laughing fits that would fuel you for the days when you felt like you couldn't even get out of bed.

Admittedly, it was a lot most of the time. 

There were screaming matches and arguing at its worst times but at its best times it was you and three people that you couldn't see your life without. Three people that made life easier most of the time. People who could make you laugh till you cried and that would hold you while you cried and fall apart.

This was a life that none of you ever thought you'd have the opportunity to have, and ever so often one of you would feel like you didn't deserve the life you had.

This was the kind of life that probably wouldn’t exist for you guys in different universes. But here, in this universe? This is the life you have and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

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[onsomenewsht]

now playing: Too Well

< track 5 || track 7 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader, Barcelona Femeni x Reader, Arsenal Women x Reader

》 words count: ~5k

》 you weren't there in my dreams, I could finally sleep / I felt good, but it sucks, I don't hate you as much

You hear the whistle before you feel the pain in your lower back.

It’s been going on like this since the very start of the game, your former teammates are on you like it’s personal, not giving you space to move or time to play.

But you know them, you played with them. It’s not personal.

At least you hope so.

You’re pretty sure they’re playing this rough because they’re scared of you. Of the way you’re keeping up with them, of the way you’re not going down easily.

It’s exciting, it’s exactly what you wanted.

This one foul feels a little bit unnecessary though.

It’s a tactical foul, you manage to find a weak spot on the side of Barcelona’s midfield and you go for it even if the ball sent to you is a bit too fast. Mapi’s body crushes into yours firmly, not enough to cause any real harm but definitely strong enough to hint you to take a breath on the ground.

“Perdón, tenía que hacerlo” (Sorry, I had to), a tattooed hand comes into your vision and the second thing you spot is the smirk on the defender’s face.

You accept her help, smirking too.

“You didn’t have to, that ball was way too long”

“Oye, sabes que no es por eso” (Yeah, you know it wasn’t about the game), María’s grin turns into a sincere smile as she moves back into her position, adding “Estamos a mano ahora” (We can call it even now).

The referee is making sure everything is settled, trying to keep control of the players, but you dismiss her and let Katie take the ball for a kick into the Barça’s box.

It’s an exciting game, it’s good football. That’s what you wanted for your first game back in Barcelona, your first game at Camp Nou as a rival. The crowd is wild and the atmosphere is all you could wish for from a Champions League match as important as the first leg of a quarter-final.

“You good?”, Leah asks while joining the fun into the box.

You are all waiting for Katie to stop discussing whatever she’s discussing with the referee just to give your teammates time to find their positions.

“Get that ball in and I’ll be amazing”

Arsenal does not manage to get the ball into the back of the net and you still have ten minutes before halftime to level the score.

It’s not fair game on paper, the odds are against you and some headlines must already be written. Barcelona’s movements on the pitch are faster and cleaner, sometimes the crowd is so loud you can’t even hear your own thoughts. They scored five minutes into and they’ve been setting the pace since.

But you’re standing up to the current Champions League’s winner.

Arsenal’s defence line is keeping up, the ball is rolling and you’re finding your forwards. You can score, you just have to play the right pass for your teammates.

On the other hand, Keira is personally marking you and another Barca’s player is always around to intercept your pass and prevent your movement. It’s frustrating, they know how you like to play, but it’s also flattering.

They have a mark on you, you just need to remember it’s acknowledgement you can cause trouble and not spite.

~

A couple of players booked for both sides is how the game gets into halftime.

You take your time to reach the tunnel, speaking animatedly with Victoria and Lia, gesturing around with your hands to explain some other tactics you can try. The atmosphere is unreal, you can’t deny all the overwhelming emotions of being back.

The fact you don’t want to risk ending up in Alexia’s line of sight has nothing to do with it.

Leah really jinxed it back then, the Champions League’s draw put your new club against your former one sooner than what you hoped for. However, you got here, you’re once again among the best in the game and it’s all you wanted.

Having to play against your ex girlfriend is just a small detail.

You’re still following her, you’re still updated about her life – her professional one, obviously. If you find yourself watching her game’s highlights or listening to her interviews, you tell yourself it’s just what you do to study your competition.

The truth is you want to make sure she’s doing good. On the pitch at least.

Alexia’s knee is bothering her again and you were so close to calling her when you read about her having to do checkups and potentially miss some important games. Like this one. No one has to know you texted Ingrid instead, just to make sure it’s not actually worse than the media is making it to be.

“Head in the game, trotter”

The Gunners have gathered around in the locker room, waiting for your captains to deliver some motivational speech to get back out there with a renewed spirit.

“Why are you all looking at me?”

“Give some shit, you idiot!”, Katie is upset and already carded, she better finds some inner peace before the second half.

“Kim, you amazing captain, say something”

“She’s right, you have the insight”

The Scottish skipper is looking at you with a calm smile and your manager is trusting her captains enough to let them deal with this by themself. The entire staff is looking at you like you have the answers to all the universe’s most important questions.

“I already spilled everything, you know I want to win this as much as every one of you”

“That was theoretical, now you had time on the pitch with them as a rival”

You had to think for a moment, taking your time to fix your socks and lacing your boots three times. Stupid superstitions you don’t believe in, but you are not going to risk it today of all days. The team needs to calm their running minds and you need to gather your thoughts.

When it seems like you have nothing worth saying, you take their faces in. You want to win as much as they want to, that’s true, but you also have a lot more to prove.

“They’re frustrated”

“They’re just pissed you broke up with the Catalan divinity”, a quip that worthed Katie a punch from Alessia.

“First of all, she’s la Reina”

Some of the girls laugh, others are just glad you can joke about it, but they’re all waiting for your useful words. There’s a game to win.

“They didn’t expect us to keep up with them, they thought more goals could have easily followed the first one. They’re keeping a high pace waiting for us to trudge backwards, and that’s not what we’re going to do”

“No way, Sherlock!”

Now it’s Caitlin who smacks the Irish’ head, she’s having it worse than you.

“We keep doing what we’re doing”, Kim steps in.

The preparation for this game was intense, the Arsenal team studied Barça for weeks and you know what to expect from them – thanks to your insight, but also thanks to the amount of effort the entire staff and team put into the training sessions.

“I know them, I’m gonna keep annoying the shit out of them and get us some good opportunities”

“You want to play bait?”, Leah is sceptical about your plan.

“Yes”

“No”

“Can work, they have reasons to want to foul her a bit more”, you’re not sure which side Laia’s on.

“Putting her in unnecessary danger, what a great idea to add a name to our injury report!”

“Let’s do it”, your manager interrupts the banter, looking at his watch, “Pass the ball to her whenever she’s free and let her go for the runs when she can”

You know the Barça’s girls, you know how they like to play.

That’s how you find a line of pass for your teammates, or you manage to slip around the Blaugrana’s kits, or even attempt a shot from just outside the box. You can tell they’re annoyed. And you know you can use their annoyance and arrogance against them.

“Let’s put a mark on her”, Leah definitely doesn’t like your plan.

“She already has, let turn it to our advantage”

“I’m here and I’m fine with it”

~

The second half starts and it gets more physical rather quickly, with both sides looking for a goal. Your teammates move better on the field when the opponents are busy double marking you or making sure you can’t keep or pass the ball.

You take the pressure well, hit after hit.

Until warm-up players distract you, Alexia is running on the sideline and you don’t see Ona’s tackle coming.

It’s a clean tackle, perfectly timed, but you missed a bit. You should have jumped her over or moved your foot away. Instead, your boot is planted on the side of the ball and you crush on the defender’s body before hitting the ground. Hard.

You don’t even hear the whistle this time.

“¡Ay! You okay?”

“Stay away!”

“Leah, calm down”, Alessia has to drag the blonde away from the little circle formed around you.

Your body is curled up on one side, face hidden behind your arms. You can feel the fresh grass of the pitch tickling your neck and the rushed movements close to you.

It takes you a couple of moments to understand the medical team is trying to get your attention, testing you worried about a concussion. Apparently, you hit your head falling down. Once asserted, and once assured both Ona and your teammates you’re fine, you are escorted to the sideline while the game resumes.

Alexia’s eyes are on you.

You always had a feeling of her presence and you were always able to find her wherever she was around you. It doesn’t matter the place, it doesn't matter how many people crowded it. If she had her eyes on you, you knew.

You smile at the realisation you can still sense it.

“How do you feel?”, the medic asks you.

“Like I just hit my head”

“Funny as always”

“Are you being sarcastic, Alice?”

“Glad you didn’t hit it hard enough to get some wisdom”, the woman is not amused by your attempt to dismiss the situation.

They’re holding you up and you’re quite happy they don’t let go when you ask, your legs failing to support you like they are supposed to.

Immediately looking back toward the pitch, you assert the situation. Barça is taking the most of the extra player, pressing higher and controlling the midfield easily. You can’t put your team at a disadvantage, not by wasting time on the side but not by coming back into the game with unsteady legs either.

You gave it all.

“Ask for a sub, Ali, please”

“You okay?”

“Yeah”

It’s ironic how both teams opt to make substitutions at the same time, it’s ironic how Alexia enters on the pitch as you make your exit from the other side.

The Culés crowd is screaming and applauding for their captain, but you like to hope they are also cheering for you as you walk your way towards the bench.

You sit impatiently, getting up every couple of minutes to shout directions to your teammates and to encourage them. Even after Aitana splits around your defence and plays an incredible ball that just needs to be chipped into the net.

~

The final whistle is both a blessing and a curse.

You join the circle of white kits gathered in the middle of the pitch, exchanging congratulations or supporting pats for every player you meet on your way there. You don’t really listen to your manager’s or Kim’s speeches, always blacking out every rational thought after a match despite the result.

The group disbands soon, tomorrow you will study every single moment of this game to better prepare for the second leg. It’s not done, but it’s over for now.

You encourage some of the younger girls to enjoy the atmosphere in the stadium, not everyone has the opportunity to play in such places and they should take the most in. There are fans to thank for their support too, never stopped cheering for you all.

“¿A dónde crees que vas?” (Where are you going?)

Mapi jumps on your back like you haven’t left the pitch on trampling legs just twenty minutes before.

“Let me lick my wounds in peace, Marìa”, no real spite in your words.

“Lo mereces, nena” (You deserved it)

“I wasn’t hoping for a welcoming party, but you all sure made the statement clear”

“Estás bien, ¿verdad?” (You’re good, right?)

“I’ll survive”

“You better, there’s still the return”, Ingrid must sense her girlfriend is about to say something stupid as she greets you in a warm hug.

The two of them are the only ones of your former teammates you met in person since your transfer, besides Keira who you cross paths with thanks to your mutual blonde friend. You’re glad they can act as a buffer as you find yourself back here.

Said English girls join the little group, animatedly discussing as Leah’s frown gets deeper. You know she’s upset about the result, but this something else entirely.

“Why is her face like that?”, you ask.

“She wants to swipe with the traitor and not with her best-est friend!”

“¡Vale, I was about to ask my favourite teammate ever!”

Keira and you make an all scene exchanging your tops but you cover yourself with an Arsenal warming vest, not really ready to wear the Blaugrana colours again. The Alexia’s one you sometimes happen to fall asleep wearing is another thing entirely, you’re not going to unpack that right here and right now.

Leah’s pissed look and Mapi’s glare about your antics are a good distraction.

Ona reaches out to you to apologise again, but you are quick to pull her in a friendly hug and reassure her that her tackle was clean – contrary to another defender, you joke.

“¡Muy bien, nena, tú lo pediste!” (Fine, you asked for it!), the Spaniard grabs your arm and literally drags you toward the family and friends section of the stadium.

You’re pretty sure you’re about to have a stroke when you realise her intention.

You meet a few of your former teammates on your way to the stands. You accept Irene’s embrace happily, also glad to delay the time of your execution. Jana’ and Claudia’ are a little shorter than what you wished for. Their smiles are sincere and their nice words are honest, you understand and you know it’s even more than what you deserve.

“¿Pensabas de irte sin saludar?” (You thought you could leave without saying goodbye?), Eli doesn’t give you time to answer as she welcomes you in her open arms, holding so tightly you have to hold back tears.

You don’t let her go and she understands you need a moment to compose yourself, hidden in her embrace, and she lets you be. The woman’s the closest to a mother figure for you during your time in Spain, mothers know better.

“You look awful”

“You always were the better looking one, Alba”, you quip back as you let the younger girl join the hug.

“¿Estás bien, mija?” (How are you?)

“Como alguien que perdìo un partido de Champions League, señora S” (As someone who has just lost a Champions League’s game)

“¡Ay! Aún tan formal” (Still with the title)

Alexia’s family welcomed you as a born and raised member of their clan, always trying to make your homesickness less difficult and succeeding at making you feel loved. Yet, you insisted on calling her mother with all the formalities, first out of respect and then just as a running joke between the two of you.

“We’re going out to eat something, you’re coming”

“Nope”, you can’t think of anything worse than sitting and trying to have fun with your ex girlfriend’s little sister and some of your closest friends – who also happen to be your ex’s best friends, your former teammates and the ones that just beat your club and your ass.

“Keira already spilled you guys are free tonight”

Damn Keira.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea”

“Te extrañamos, nena” (We missed you)

You missed them too, truly.

Nevertheless, you have to process all your feelings about being here, being back in Barcelona.

The familiar road to the stadium somehow looked like taking you to a completely different destination. The hectic tunnel somehow crushing on you, the exciting atmosphere somehow making you sick. The Culés crowd is a completely different experience when they’re not cheering for you.

“I just want to sulk in a bit by myself”

Marìa knows you, she doesn’t press on the matter even if you can tell she wants nothing more than to spend more time with you and your friends. Her arm around your shoulder is comforting as you say your goodbyes to Eli and Alba, promising them not to disappear again.

You’re keeping your promise this time.

“¿Estás segura?” (Are you sure?)

You two finally reach a more private part of the tunnel’s exit, stepping a couple of times on the way there to wave at the fans. At least they don’t seem to hate you.

The hug you envelop each other in is the longest and most comforting one you ever exchanged, holding more than what words can tell and actions can convey. You let Mapi go just after spotting a blonde head waiting for you around the corner.

“Yeah, I’m gonna crush your dreams next time we see each other”

“¡Vale, pero mándame un mensaje antes!” (Yeah, but you better text before then)

The defender takes the opposite direction as Leah drops her arms around your shoulders from behind, effectively dragging you into the locker room.

“You good?”

“If someone else asks me again I’m gonna scream till you have to call the Neuro on me”

“Perfect, you can shower then, you stink”

The girls aren’t as loud as they usually are as you just lost a pretty important game and some are gonna sleep really bad thinking about missed opportunities or defence mistakes. You, first of all, know you’re not gonna sleep at all tonight.

When you’re ready to go, you leave the stadium for the parking lot.

“Are you going back to the hotel?”

Leah is probably hoping you decide to join her, Lia and a couple of the girls at the eating place Mapi mentioned before. You honestly would love to spend a quiet night out with your friends, both from your past and present, but you’re pretty sure Alexia’s gonna be there.

She managed to avoid you until now, you don’t want to ruin her night.

“There’s a place I want to go to”

~

Half an hour drive away from Camp Nou there’s a little secluded beach, rocky shore all the way down to the sea and just a couple of metres of sand in between.

Alexia insisted on bringing you there one day, unprompted and without a real reason to make such a trip in the middle of the week. The location is far away from any tourist spots but close enough to be a place to go when you need to think, surrendered by everything and nothing at the same time.

The Catalan ended up there the first time when she was barely old enough to drive herself around, coming back any time she needed to silence her mind and allowing herself to focus only on the unbothered nature.

You two used to go there together to just exist in the same place at the same time without needing anything else.

However, you got the habit of going there by yourself when you felt overwhelmed and in your last months in Barcelona you feel like you spent more time looking at the sea from that particular spot than in your own home.

The taxi’s drive there is quiet in the most awkward way possible, the old man asking way too many questions for your liking, but when you feel steps approaching you have no doubt who is joining you.

“I can leave, it’s your spot after all”, you gave yourself permission to come also secretly hoping to find her here.

“Tenía una sensación” (No need, I had a feeling)

When she refuses to join the little night out, much to her teammates’ disappointment, the English girls are way too fast to assure her you declined the invite and Mapi even encourages her with a silent but meaningful nod.

She drops on the ground keeping some needed distance from you, crossing her legs and holding herself on the sweater she’s wearing.

“I thought you were ignoring me”

“Ajá, intenté pero mamá me regañó” (Yeah, I was but mom scolded me)

You finally really look at her for the first time in nine months, allowing yourself to take in every single detail you memorised that last day to make sure her eyes still brighten the same way and the creases around her mouth still move in the same spots.

How can she be the same person and a completely different one at the same time?

The older girl is not looking at you, her gaze fixed on the landscape as she tries to regulate her heartbeat while shaking every time a gentle blow of wind urges you both to breathe some air in.

“You’re a brunette now”

Alexia’s laugh is something you had no idea you could miss so deeply until it reaches you open and at full speed, almost knocking you down physically as much emotionally.

When she finally looks at you, oh, you are so fucked.

The sound of the waves crashing on the shore is not enough to cover the silence that surrounds you again, you’re sure she’s here to kill you slowly without having to use words or weapons. She just needs to remind you what you left behind, who you lost.

“Lo siento” (I’m sorry)

“I– what? No, no, you don’t need to–”

“Te conozco” (I know you)

The Catalan has an all speech planned, rehearsed all the way here just to make sure she can say everything she needs to say in the best way she can.

“Lo siento, te conozco y yo– I knew you weren’t in love anymore y I didn’t do anything”

“I never stopped loving you, Alexia”, you have to make sure she understands it was never about her.

“Lo sé” (I know)

A warm hand leaves the hiding spot in the pocket of her sweater to land in the space between you. It’s not an invitation, you are not stupid enough to hope that, but it’s an open gesture. You believe she even smiles, but you’re probably delusional and actually concussed.

“I was there, I saw you fall in love with the club y with the city y conmigo”, she starts, fixing her gaze back to the waves, “I was there and I saw you fall out of love too”

“Alexia, I–”

“Por favor déjame terminar, you left without a word and I have words to say now” (Let me finish, please)

When it was time for you to leave Barcelona, she was the one taking you to the airport. She insisted, she was adamant about it.

You broke up with her with a transfer request and a shiny contract signed with a club in a different country, and she didn’t try to change your mind.

You packed your life in Barcelona and your life together in a couple of boxes, shipped them to an apartment you didn’t even visit yourself beforehand, and she went to her mother for a week just to give you the space to do that.

You said your goodbyes to your teammates at the end of a particularly hard gym session, no game left to play and a recovery plan already sent in by the trainers, and she watched over you a couple of steps back even if all she wanted was to join the group hug.

However, when you wanted to take a taxi to the airport, she was determined to drive you herself. The radio mocking you all the way there, playing your song as soon as she started the car up. You didn’t dare to turn it off, but you wished she had.

Alexia didn’t say a word, she parked the car and helped with your luggage, following you inside till just bureaucracy and security checks stopped her. Not a single word, not a single tear. You had red eyes and shaking hands, your ex girlfriend nodded to you and let you leave like that.

“You fell in love with Barcelona and playing for Barça and I thought that was enough for you just because it’s everything to me”

“You are–”

“No, por favor” (Please, don’t do that)

You’re not sure if she’s asking you to let her apologise or if she wants to stop you from saying something that could most definitely just hurt the two of you more.

“I’m sorry, I knew you didn’t feel at home anymore and I just hoped your love for me was enough to make you stay”

“It was”

It takes everything in you not to reach her, brushing away the tears that are marking her cheeks.

“Ay, but that’s why you ask for the transfer, no?”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, you left a place that was not your home”

“I don’t even know where my home is”, you’re not sure if there’s a place for you to call home in the first place. Maybe you’re just not made to feel at home.

“Es aquí” (It’s here)

You register her coming closer just when she has a finger pointing in the middle of your chest, eyes soft as she looks right through your heavy breaths and broken soul.

“Tu casa es tu corazón y cuando tu corazón no se siente en casa, te vas” (Your home is where your heart is and when your heart doesn’t feel at home anymore, you leave)

“I should have explained, I should have tried harder”

“I knew”

“Alexia–”

“No importa, I didn’t understand it, but it’s okay”, she’s the one reaching for you, gently touching your face as she’s scared you’re gonna break in a million pieces if she speaks too loud or brushes her fingers too roughly on your cheeks.

“Mi casa está aquí, mi familia está aquí y mi futuro está aquí, juego en mi equipo favorito y estoy dónde está mi corazón. Soy afortunada, tú no tienes la misma suerte. Intentaste explicarlo y nunca te escuché, y luego fuiste” (My home is here, my family is here and my future is here. I play for my childhood club and I’m exactly where my heart is. I’m lucky, you don’t have the same luck. You tried to explain it so many times but I never listened. And then you left)

“Te juro, dejar Barcelona fue la única manera” (I swear, leaving Barcelona was the only way)

“Lo sé, me sentí como una parte de mí dejé contigo” (I know, I felt like a part of me left with you), she takes a moment and you can see in her eyes that she spent a lot of time thinking about this, “I feel like I was missing a piece that let me breathe properly and kick a football the right way or winning successfully and sleeping peacefully”

“I’m sorry I had to leave”

“You never left, not really”

Alexia’s voice is shaking now, for the first time since sitting next to you and letting you understand you can forgive yourself for hurting her. She did.

“No estabas aquí, pero nunca te dejaste” (You were not here, but you never left), she laughs before explaining herself, “You’re in the cafeteria you were a regular at and I can’t let myself go anymore, you’re in the dating shows I avoid to watch. You’re in the songs you say you hate but you sing so bad while you cook”

You can’t hold her gaze when she says the last part, “You’re in the footballs left behind after training”.

“You knew”

“Nunca siento que no estás aquí, a veces lo odio a veces me ayuda” (I never feel like you are not here, sometimes I hate it and sometimes I hold on into it)

“Yo también te extraño” (I missed you too)

Her laugh is still your favourite sound in the entire world.

~

When the sun disappears under the waves, the Catalan offers to take you back to your hotel.

Alexia’s driving always manages to calm your nerves, you don’t miss the fact she is taking the longest road and she has the windows rolled down even if she hates it.

You’re exhausted, drained both physically and mentally. Somehow, though, your chest doesn’t feel so heavy and your lungs actually fill with fresh air, your mind doesn’t feel so crowded and your thoughts actually unravel rationally.

The last time you were in a car with Alexia it felt like the two of you were going to bury a piece of yourself down the heart of the earth, this time you are going to bring it flowers. This time, when a familiar song starts to play, you find the courage to turn it off.

“Thank you”

“Por no odiarte?” (For not hating you?), she quips, not taking her eyes away from the still very familiar road.

“Thank you for understanding”

“Hiciste lo que debías hacer” (You did what you had to do)

Alexia stops the car in the private parking lot of the hotel your team is staying in, you don’t need to check the time to know you should head back soon.

You say your goodbyes, knowing you will see each other in ten days and it’s probably going to hurt as much even if in a completely different way.

She doesn’t accompany you to the hotel’s entrance, but, unlike the last time, you turn around when you hear her calling out your name.

“I hope you found what you left for”

[yaut-jaknowit]

Begging you for some more smut with Mai’tuiudh. Could start off as angst and follow up from the same male soldier reader idea, thought it could be fun and I love your creativity (I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t kicking my feet the day it was posted.) And as always, drink some water and take care:D

Returned to Him Part 2

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Warnings: Hate sex, rough sex, seems mean but they love each other (promise), no prep, use of lube, lots of teasing, biting, blood (from biting), marking, knotting, mentions of breeding, Mai’s a possessive cunt, forceful cum eating.

Word Count: 2998

Summary: Shortly after you return from battle, Mai'tuiudh in on the verge of never letting out of his sit. He's damn near ready to kidnap you and take you to his ship. But, you were able to talk him down. Yet, he still presses the issues. He doesn't understand. He doesn't understand you are afraid. You don't know if you could survive out there. This leads to a heated argument.

Author Note: Please forgive me for how long it took me to get to you! But I hope to make it up with writing hate sex. Enjoy! Ehehehe

Masterlist

Ao3

After three days of bed rotting with Mai nearly refusing to move from on top of you, he finally allowed you to have some space. For an alien who sits alone in his ship for months, he’s a needy, greedy creature. He needs you. He wants you. He’ll stop at nothing to have you by his side for the rest of his life. Nearly going as far as kidnapping you and dragging you to his ship.

When he attempted that trick, you had to talk him down from fulfilling that idea. The life he wants to live with you, out in space, that’s too much of a leap right now. To leave everything behind was something you couldn’t just do without preparing first, talking about it.

Plus, there’s people’s lives in your hands. You work with your military brothers and sisters to protect this nation from any threat. To the point, you’ve even lost your arm for it. This far deep? You couldn’t just abandon your life without thinking about it, talking about it.

But Mai? He doesn’t understand. The lifestyle is completely different. The differences between livelihoods and cultures. He knows at a young age already, he’ll be exploring the stars one day, hunting. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t expect to even leave earth’s atmosphere at any time. Mai believes that’s complete horseshit.

“Come live with me. We can hunt together. Get away from here. We can be together,” Mai argues and giving you a desperate look. One he would deny until his days end. He’ll also deny the fact he was pleading with you, wanting nothing more for you to join him.

You groaned and placed down the spoon, the noodles being stirred enough. “Mai-“ you about faced on your heel “- I’ve told you already: I’m not ready.” Mai growled, face morphing with frustration. His nails dragged across the kitchen counter. “I’ve never expected to live out there. Who knows the dangers? Or the fact if I could even survive?”

Had he not thought about that? The two of you are completely different species. Could humans even survive beyond the atmosphere? Or would you just be confined to his ship? Those are the worries that hold you back. But Mai’tuiudh doesn’t understand this. Not when his life revolves around space travel.

As the ignorant male he his, Mai rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion and leaned against the counter. His one arm holding up his upper body. “Do you think I would take you out there if I didn’t know it was safe?” he snapped and glared at you, brows lowered.

“You know what, Mai! I don’t know. I know so little about you that it makes me nervous.” You threw up your hands. “You can’t get mad at me for randomly leaving when you do the same or you just show up in my room out of nowhere.” You dragged your hand down your face then gave him a pointed look. “You know out there. I don’t.”

Mai huffed and rolled his head again. Maybe he could find his brain while he’s doing that. “And I could teach you. I don’t know why you think this is such a big deal. It’s space. You’ll have me every step of the way. I’ll teach you the ways to protect yourself.” The blue Yautja made it sound so sweet. Like this was a life you’ve always meant to.

The frustration hit a boiling point inside of you. With less than a week to cooperate your life after loosing your limb and him hounding down on you like that, you snapped. You marched over to him and shoved your finger into his chest. “You know what?! I’ve had it. You are not even thinking about me. Just your fucking self.”

“You fight a meaningless war. If you join me amongst the stars, I can give you a reason to fight, to hunt. You would never have to worry about anything with me,” he argued and stepped forward. That forced you to step back. Mai kept pushing you until your back met the wall in the kitchen.

Both of your hands, metal and not, were curled into fists as you angrily stared up at Mai. “At least I fight for my country. What do you do? Kill and hunt people! Good people. They don’t deserve to die.” He hunts for trophies. Those trophies include people from your kind. Humans.

A growl echoed around you. The blue Yautja leaned down and got into your face. “You don’t seem to hate it when I gift said trophies to you.” The only human skull you accepted was sitting upon a shelf in your bedroom, above your bed. His growl morphed into a purr. One of his hands rested on your chest, pinning you effectively to the wall.

Other courting gifts were around the small space offered to you. A space that you only needed.

Blood instantly ran south, your cock twitch in the confines of your pants. “I hate you,” you snarled at him with less fire than before.

Mai smirked an alien expression and brushed his lower mandibles against your jaw. His hand slid up to ensnare your throat. “You don’t. Not when I’m balls deep in your ass,” he purred into your ear. You couldn’t help the shuttered that controlled your body for a moment. Your heart beat increased, thundering under his fingers.

“I don’t know wh-what you mean,” you sputtered and attempted to keep your angry façade on. Yet, when his knee nudged between your legs, it was hard to focus on nothing more than the pleasure he was creating with little touches. “You kill people. You hunt people.”

“And?” he dismissed with smug look still on his face. The blue Yautja jerked his knee up. You instantly grinded down on it. “Clearly, you don’t mind I hunt your species. That I take their skulls. Like I could do to you at any moment, but I don’t. Because you’re my mate.”

Fuck, you were losing yourself so quickly. You reeled back your thought and tried to remember the current argument. “I can’t just… just leave my home. This is all I know.” You grinded your hips down, your cock beginning to harden and growing a bulge in your pants. A noticeable bulge that Mai reached down cupped. You grunted, teeth clenched shut for the moment. “I hate you.”

“You say that as if your dick isn’t twitching against my hand,” he taunted and squeezed your shaft till it nudged a painful degree. He pulled the limb away and only offered his thigh to rut against.

“You caused this!” you snapped at him, jerking your head forward to get into his space. Yet, the hand still pinning your neck to the wall prevented that. “This is all your fault.” The inside of your pants were starting to grow sticky the longer this went on. He growled and crowded your space against with his face in yours.

His upper mandibles widened to press his snout to your nose. “It’s your own destruction, little one.” You pressed your nose harshly to his snout and glared daggers. Until, he twitched his thighs between your open ones. The harsh expression on your face instantly melted away as you moaned and began to pant.

The strength you once held fell away. You leaned back against the wall and kept rutting your hips down on his thick thigh. “I hate you,” you groaned and let your eyes drift shut. The Yautja chuckled and trailed his tongue from your jawline down your neck once his hand was out of the way. His muscle left behind a wave of goosebumps. You shuttered in his hold and reached for his shoulders.

Your hands were snatched up and pinned above your head before you could register the movement. “You don’t get to touch. Not with that attitude.” Heat from both desire and anger flared its ugly head inside of you. You pulled on his hold but he was an unmovable statue.

Mai grasped the front of your pants and swiftly tore it off of you. You yelped as your cock met the cool air of your apartment. You squirmed in his hold, rubbing your hard shaft against his thigh the best you could in this position. The head leaking pearls of white beads. You couldn’t help the whine when he refused to touch you further.

“You’re such an ass. Fucking teasing me when you can see how hard I am,” you spat at your mate who only smirked in your face in return.

A chuckle erupted from his throat. Mai squeezed his hand around your captured wrists then dragged his other hand down your torso. He purposefully ran a talon over your already perky nipple. You had to stifle a moan to not give him the satisfaction. His sharp nails left goosebumps in their wake. He stopped just shy of your aching cock.

“Look at you. Poor thing, just making such a mess,” he teased and palmed at the area above your dick. The skin still slightly sensitive due to how thin it was. You rutted up, cock slapped against your torso. “A need little ooman, desperate for my touch.”

Fire flickered alive in your eyes. “Fucking touch me, Mai! I swear to god,” you demanded and pulled at the makeshift restraints. Yet, his hold didn’t falter.

He used his thumb to rubbed over the leak tip of your cock. The sudden, intense pleasure had your breath hitching and back arching off of the wall. Then, the touch was gone. You whined and jerked your hips forward, demanding for more. “Asshole. Ass! Hole!” He just brought his thumb up to his face and licked off the bead of precum staining the finger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fucking your asshole soon enough.” If you had the chance, you would strange him for that retort.

The blue Yautja grabbed at the leftover clothing still hanging off of your hips and tugged it off in one clean pull. Your lower body was free from anything covering it. He pulled his knee from between your legs which caused you to whine. Next, he let go of your hands, his own finding their way to your waist. They were massive, easily engulfing your hips.

One of your hands grasped at one of his tresses, the other finding a place on his shoulder. Then, Mai lifted you off of the ground. Your thighs pressed tightly to your chest, effectively pinning you in place. It only took on arm to hold you up while the other fumbled with his waist band. The Yautja was able to pull it down enough for his engorged cock to slap against his toned abdomen.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting this entire time?” He ran the tip of his own leaking cock around the tight rim of your asshole. You tried to push down enough so the very tip could push inside of you, but that failed.

“You know what I fucking want.” Mai purposefully teased you by sliding his cock between your cheeks, rubbing his slick and scent all over you. He was just as hard as you were. The two of you desperate for one another.

“Might need to remind me again,” he purred, head bowed as he watched himself scent mark you. You would smell like him for the next upcoming weeks just from this.

From his belt, he popped open a bottom and dosed his hand a little. The cold touch of lube around your puckered hold had you squirming his hold. Despite your anger for him in the moment, he wouldn’t do a thing to harm you when you didn’t consent. He did his cock next and lined up the head.

“Still hate me?” he snickered, both of his hands returned to the back of your thighs.

A glare continued to be set on the Yautja. “Fuck you.” Your head tipped back when the Yautja shoved as much of his length he could on the first thrust in. He stretched you out nicely, only able to fit half at first. Something he had to remedy swiftly.

Mai pulled back till the head was still lodged inside before surging forward. His entire shaft finally fit perfectly inside. His hips were flushed with yours, cock twitch deep inside your channel. You moaned and pulled on his tress, gaining a grunt from the alien. Mai’s hands tightened for a moment as he forced himself to stay still. “I prefer it when I’m fucking you instead,” he purred deeply, torso flushed with yours. Your cock trapped between the two bodies. The pressure adding a nice hint of pleasure to this feast.

With him deep inside of you, your resolve finally fell away. The anger that hung on you washed away. You tugged on his tress and pulled him towards your face. “Fuck me, please,” you begged him and pressed your forehead against his in a soft gesture.

“Happily.” Mai found the perfect rhythm and angle to hit your prostrate with each harsh thrust. He claimed you like many times before, knowing your body better than you did. His size offered you the ability to feel his veins each time he pulled out.

Your mate leaned down and latched his fangs onto your neck with a growl. One of your legs was leg go to hook around his waist instead. With his newly freed hand, he wrapped it around your engorged cock and teased the tip of his thumb. You smacked your head against the wall, the pain quickly forgotten about. “Mai!” you called his name in surprised, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder.

His fangs dug deeper into your neck, not yet piercing the feeble skin. “Good boy. Keep begging. You’re mine, mine to fuck, mine to breed. You’re never allowed to leave.” The teeth on his inner mouth sunk into your flesh, drawing both a cry and blood in the same second. “I’m keeping you on my ship. Never allowed to leave me again.”

All of his words went over your head at the growing pleasure boiling in the pit of your stomach. Blood ran down from the new mark he left on you, continuously marking you as his. Forever. He snarled a deep tone and quickened his pace. His rough hand slickened with lube moved at the same pace, keeping up the speed.

The double assault turned your brain into a puddle. He ran his teeth down your neck to your shoulder and snapped his jaw shut. More blood dripped from another wound he created.

“You’re pauk-de mine, little one!” he snarled and pinched the head of your cock. More precum leaked out to stain his fingertips.

This time, he forced his fingers into your mouth and made you taste yourself on them. They were shoved to the back of your throat. You gagged on them, throat tightening around them. “Yeah, you take anything I give, don’t you?” He had unlatched from your shoulder and licked at the shell of your ear. The taste of your own precum salty on your tongue.

Mai’tuiudh pulled them out and resumed to jerking you off. The saliva on his fingers adding to the slick covering your shaft. You mewled. Your metal hand still holding onto his tress while your flesh one gripped his shoulder with a deadly hold.

“Are you going to come? Already?” He could feel the telltale signs of your muscles pulsing around his thick shaft. Not that he was doing so hot either. His knot already expanding, waiting for his seed to spill into you awaiting body.

“So-so are you,” you retorted with a snarky response and kept panting. Your head rolled back, exposing the column of your throat to him. Blood already stained your skin. His teeth have already laid their claim on you.

A chuckle escaped from the alien. “Yeah, yeah I am. Because I know I’m going to knot you and fill your ass with my seed. I’ve marked you, my mate.” By gods grace, he was good at that.

Close to edge, he focused solely on your tip with short, quick jerks. You were instantly spurting cum all over his hand and chest, running down his toned abs. Your eyes rolled into your head as every muscle tightened and locked down on his still pounding cock.

“That’s it, good boy. Coming around me. Yeah,” he said with a breathy tone and rested his forehead against your shoulder. “You’re going to take it. You’re going to take every drop or I’m going to fuck it back into you. Don’t you dare waste a single drop.” His pace quickened, throwing you into oversensitivity. You tried to squirm, anything to get him to ease up or at least stop touching your cock. But, Mai get’s what he wants.

With one last thrust, he buried his knot passed your tight ring of muscles and filled you with his seed. He groaned deeply, body twitching. His cock throbbed, pulsing as his seed fills you. Not a single drop allowed to drip pass the knot sealing everything inside of you.

You groaned and let your eyes fluttered open once he stopped twitching. A lopsided grin washed over your features. Mai picked up his head to look down at you and mess he made of you. A grunt sounded from the giant. He leaned down and rubbed his forehead to yours in a sweet manner. “You always look so good with me knotted inside of you,” he chuckled and laved his tongue over the marks on your neck and shoulder.

Pain shot across the marred skin. You couldn’t help the whine that sounded from the back of your throat. He kept licking, silently telling you his apologies. Not that he meant them when he would do them all over again.

Smoke filled your senses. Your eyes snapped wide, head whipping towards the kitchen. Shit! The spaghetti!

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Both of you know you need to finish this new song, but you both also need a way to decompress and feel close. Pairing: Producer!Hongjoong x fem Producer!reader Tropes: coworkers au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: mentions of work stress/deadlines, language Smut Warnings: unprotected cockwarming, somnophlia, unprotected sex Word Count: 844 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist

Listen to ♡ Umbrella by Rihanna

You and Hongjoong have been holed up together in the studio for what feels like days. Nothing seems to work no matter what you do or how you change the track. You’ve stepped out to get food, but that’s the only time you’re not in the studio. You’ve slept here and eaten here for who knows how many days in a row at this point. Both of you know it’s not healthy to try to force creativity, but at the same time, you have a deadline to meet. You glance to your left, watching Hongjoong groan and throw himself back in his chair. He pushes his fingers through his hair, his large bicep tattoo fully on display as he does so.

“It still sounds wrong.” He groans, “Any ideas?”

You huff and rest your chin in your hand, “Nope… maybe we just need a break. We’ve been trying to figure this production out for days now.”

“We need to have this done by tomorrow. We can’t just give it a break.” Hongjoong reminds you.

The fact that you have to have this done tomorrow is definitely an issue. If you force a product out, it’ll be shitty, and you both know that. Hongjoong turns his chair toward you and sighs. You turn your gaze from the computer to him, still holding your head in your hand.

“You know what could be good inspiration?” He asks with a suggestive lilt.

“Hongjoong,” You say with a warning tone, “We shouldn’t do anything that won’t be appropriate for the workplace. The last thing we need is for someone to make an assumption about our relationship and–”

“Relationship, you say?”

You huff, “You know what I mean.”

“Last time we had a little fun, we wrote the song that topped the top 100 for two weeks straight.”

You hum, scanning his body for a moment, “That’s true.”

“Maybe we should do that again. It must be a lucky charm for us.”

“Joong…”

“And to think, they’ll never know who’s pretty moans are in the backtrack. That’s our little secret, isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow at you

You don’t need any further convincing. You turn your chair and climb into his lap. Hongjoong immediately wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight as you lean in for a kiss. You sit in his lap and make out for a while. The low, colorful lighting of the room only adds to the mood. Hongjoong guides you to grind against him as you kiss. Your hair falls in both your face and his. Neither of you cares about it. Even when a lock of your hair gets in the way of the kiss, it only gives Hongjoong a reason to hold your hair with one hand while the other continues to guide your hips. 

Normally, when you and Hongjoong mess around, you get so lost in the moment you forget everything around you. Today, though, you just cannot shake the exhaustion. You pull away, still needy but very much filled with exhaustion.

“You okay, sweetie?” He asks, rubbing small circles into your hip bone.

You nod, “I’m just… tired… I know we’re both needy, but I’m so sleepy.”

Hongjoong smiles softly, “How about a nap then?”

“A nap? Right now? We were about to–”

Hongjoong pecks your lips, “We both need a rest. How about you just sit on my cock while we rest for a while.”

You smile back at him and accept his offer. You slip out of your clothing and climb back onto his lap. His cock is pulled out from his sweats. He pumps it a few times before gently telling you to sit on it. You sigh at the sensation and sink into his chest. Hongjoong wraps his arms around your waist tightly, burying his nose against the crook of your neck. It’s comfortable. You both needed this, even if you tried to deny resting at first. You both phase in and out of sleep for a while. When you wake up again, you find that Hongjoong has pulled the chair back to the desk. He’s clicking away, one headphone over his ear.

“Joong?” You mumble sleepily.

“You wake up? You’ve been mumbling random things to me in your sleep. It’s cute.” He explains, “I finally had a strike of inspiration.”

You sit up a bit and let out a small shaky sigh feeling the slight shift of his cock inside you. Hongjoong tries to suppress a groan as best as he can, but a small noise still escapes. You grind against him, enjoying the friction it grants you.

“You want me to fuck you, sweetie?” Hongjoong questions quietly.

“But you’re working. You have inspiration. You should work on it while you’re inspired.” You whine, voice still laced with sleep.

“We both know fucking makes the inspiration better.” He reminds, “Do you want me to fuck you, sweetie?”

“I’ll fuck myself on your cock while you work.” You compromise.

Hongjoong chuckles, “If you insist, sweetie. I’ll keep you updated with what I’m writing.”

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

[talktonytome]

couldn’t stop thinking about this and had to write a little something

They’re standing at the bar waiting for their drinks when Buck suddenly crowds into Tommy’s space, sliding a leg between his thighs, as he leans in really close. He knows Tommy’s expecting a kiss, lips hovering only milliliters from his. He leans forward to close the distance, but Buck’s quicker. He swipes Tommy’s Stetson and pulls back abruptly in one smooth move, laughing at his outrage.

“Evan,” Tommy pouts. “That’s not playing fair, baby.” He hooks one finger in each of Buck’s front belt loops and pulls him back in, just as Buck sets the sleek black hat on his own head. He’d gone without one just for this moment.

“Hey Tommy?” He grins, tilting his head while biting his lip for maximum effect. “Do you know about the hat rule?”

“Hat rule?” Tommy frowns, adorably confused— clearly not expecting a fun fact, instead of the kiss he’d been cruelly denied.

“Oh, I think you’d find it very interesting,” Buck tells him, skimming his fingers down one of Tommy’s biceps. He feels the muscles twitch beneath his hand and it makes him shiver.

Tommy doesn’t hesitate to take the upper hand, seeing how affected Buck is. He purposefully flexes his arm and smirks when Buck’s face flushes. “Is that right?” He circles Buck’s wrist and keeps his hand there. “Well don’t keep me in suspense, you know I’m an eager student.” Buck’s mind flashes to memories of such fun nights, echoes of sir making heat pool in his gut.

God, he was so easy for Tommy, but he can’t let himself get derailed. He has a purpose tonight, after all. “There’s a saying, you see,” he uses his free hand to grip Tommy’s waist and leans in so his lips are almost kissing Tommy’s ear. “Wear the hat, ride the cowboy,” he whispers, voice pitched low and promising. Tommy shudders beneath him and Buck smiles in triumph.

Then, Tommy’s gently pushing him back. “Oh. Huh,” is all he says, brows furrowed.

And that- this is not the reaction Buck was expecting. “What huh?”

“That explains it.”

Buck is so confused right now. “Explains what?”

“When you went to the bathroom, uh, this guy came over and tried to take my hat,” Tommy explains. “I thought he was just a weird kind of thief or something,” he shrugs.

Look, Buck will be the first to admit he can get jealous, he told Tommy as much before they even kissed. “Who did what?” He scowls, looking around the bar, trying to pick out who it could be. His eyes zero in on some bland blonde guy who had made eyes at Tommy the minute they walked in. Clearly, he skips leg day because he could never fill those jeans and-

His spiraling is cut off by Tommy shaking with laughter. He grips Buck’s jaw, slotting a thumb on his chin and smiles, all smug about it. “Evan, stop trying to set that guy on fire with your mind,” he teasingly admonishes. “There was no guy,” he admits. “You’re just so cute when you get all murder-scowly, I couldn’t resist riling you up a little. Also, of course I know about the hat rule,” he adds.

Buck speed runs being offended, endeared, and then pouty over his failed attempt. “Y-you knew? Then why did you act like you didn’t?”

“Because, Evan. I like it when you flirt with me. I like that you do these kinds of things to put the moves on me. Why do you think I didn’t mention your lack of hat tonight, even though it was your idea to dress up and come here? Mr. Clipboard not being prepared? I saw your Stetson stashed in the back of our closet,” he says, grinning.

Bucks groans, a little embarrassed, but also impossibly fond of the way Tommy knows him and sees him. “Teased by my own boyfriend, wow,” he exhales. “When I’m wearing my best jeans, no less!”

“Aw come on, you know I love you,” Tommy kisses his lips in apology, hand still holding his face. “And believe me, I noticed the jeans,” he whispers darkly, eyes traveling up and down Buck’s body. “In fact, I’ll show you just how appreciative I am,” he promises, sliding a hand down to lightly grope Buck’s ass.

“Hmm, I’m not sure you’ve earned it, cowboy,” Buck shoots him a challenging look. Yeah, he can tease, too.

“Hey, now! You wore the hat, now you gotta ride the cowboy,” Tommy winks. “Rules are rules, Buckley, and you’re such a stickler for those.”

“Well when you put it that way…” Buck grins.

“I do,” Tommy nods vehemently.

They’re interrupted by the bartender setting down the tequila shots Buck had ordered for them. He reluctantly pulls away from Tommy to take one and hands the other to him. Eyes stay glued to each other while they throw them back.

Buck’s transfixed by the bob of Tommy’s throat as he swallows. In turn, Tommy tracks the way Buck’s mouth sucks the wedge of lime and the, frankly, obscene manner in which his tongue flicks out to lick the salt from the rim. Yeah, they’re not saying for another drink.

They slam down the empty shot glasses, and Tommy has the same idea because suddenly, he’s throwing several bills onto the bar and sliding his hand to tangle with Buck’s. He mutters something about an Uber and leads them away from the bar, easily cutting space for them through the crowd.

“Alright well, giddy up, cowboy,” Buck half-shouts, squeezing his hand. They both dissolve into giggles as they walk out through the exit and step into the night air.

[ankoluvly]

ྀི Part 2 to my lil Lorenzo prompt, find it here

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . You stand still, thinking of what just happened. how he just casually pushed his way back through the crowd, as if he didn’t just threaten to blackmail you.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “that’s not love Y/N.” You hear the voice of your friend, Pansy Parkinson say, coming up next to you. staring daggers at where Lorenzo pushed his way away from you. “You..You don’t know him like i do Pansy..” You mutter in response.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . dammit, ‘why are you like this?’ you thought to yourself. you hated him but you couldn’t help but defend him at all times. and you truly couldn’t imagine living everyday, going to hogwarts, attending classes, et cetera, without him. and he truly could be such a sweetheart at times, he loves you, and you love him. you could feel your chest tighten in pain at just the thought of losing him. him not waking you up everyday, his romantic notes, forcing you to cuddle with him, his empty threats..well…half empty threats..or just, threats, would be more accurate.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “blackmailing you? i don’t think i need to know much more about him,” Pansy remarks sarcastically, taking a shot before dragging you into the crowd of people dancing, towards a secluded area.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Look,” Pansy said pointing towards a couch just a couple feet away. you wish you could say you were shocked at the scene. “He just blackmailed you and then he just goes back to making out with that slut.” she added sarcastically. Pansy has had it out for Daphne for quite awhile, ever since she made her move on Draco (which he not so respectfully declined)

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “That’s just Lorenzo..and he’s drunk. how many times have i cheated on him when dr-“ you couldn’t even finish before Pansy cut you off.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Girl don’t even start that shit, you guys were practically broken up. You’re the victim, not him.” she said, taking a sip of her drink. glaring daggers at the both. you sigh in defeat, you knew she had a point, but you’re only human, you can’t help the fact you’re attracted to him.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . After a couple seconds of silence and awkward, staring around at people at the party, Pansy sighed frustrated. “Look i will support you either way, so atleast get that whore off your man.” she exclaimed, giving you a slight, pitiful smile.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . You looked over at Lorenzo and Daphne, debating. you couldn’t deny you’d love to ruin Daphnes night tonight- but part of you got excited at the thought of frustrating Enzo even more, the sex afterwards is so good. but then again- Daphne would also tell you things about how she could take Lorenzo away from you- and bragged about how he ‘cheated’ on you with her, because she fails to understand how you guys were broken up at the time. hm..what should you do..?

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself, making your way over to Daphne and Lorenzo.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Enz? what the fuck?” you say frustratedly, crossing your arms as you stared at the two, Daphne frustratedly turning to look at you. “Just hanging out with Daphne love,” Lorenzo replied almost amused, “Don’t you think you could wait a little bit? me and her were having lots of fun.” He added with a smirk.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . You rolled his eyes at his amusement, you knew what he was doing. “Get the fuck off of him, fucking whore..” You muttered as you pushed Daphne off.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Let’s go, like now?” You said as you grabbed Lorenzos wrist tight- as if you were trying to snap it.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Lorenzo was looking at you almost in awe at how demanding you were acting- you were hot this way. he didn’t even care about your bruising grip on his wrist as he chuckled to himself, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He says as he gets himself up, quickly forgetting about Daphne, who stared in frustration at the two of you. As Lorenzo gladly let you pull him along towards the exit of the Slytherin common room.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . You two were in for a long night.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Written by Ankoluvly, 2024 on tumblr!

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Could you tell the end was rushed? lol. i’ve been so fucking busy but finally have some spare time so i decided to rush and get this out. Might make part 3 with the actual smut but i’m not that confident in my smut writing yet 😔 people were also asking for part 2 so i really wanted to release this! hope you guys don’t mind

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Here is part two! i’m so sorry for the delay, @yashneyx @hisparentsgallerryy

[roguishcat]

Augustarion Day 2 – Pool Party 🌊

This was supposed to be 500 words. It isn't. Also, it was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted drabble. I have no clue how it turned into angst/comfort. Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you will enjoy reading it! ❤️

Day 1 - Strawberries, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 14 - Protective, Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

Pairing: the reader (You) x Astarion

Tags: Insecurities, mild angst/comfort, implied nudity

It was yet another boiling hot day and the group was suffering. Having to wear heavy leather armour and full supply packs whilst encountering a veritable cornucopia of monsters certainly did not help their mood.

When you saw the glittering blue thread of the river on the horizon, you felt like falling on your knees and weeping tears of joy. The rest seemed to be just as excited as you at the prospect of washing the grime and dirt off their sweat slicked bodies. Even Lae’zel for once did not complain when Gale tentatively suggested that they continue on in that direction.

Your steps quickened and after another hour you finally felt a cool breeze caress your cheeks. You looked over at your rogue walking a little behind you, the gentle wind teasing his silver curls. Astarion was the least affected by the weather but even he seemed to visibly relax when he realised that they would be stopping shortly.

“Phew, soldier. It is hotter than the hells today. Can’t wait to go for a dip. In fact,” Karlach grinned, “can our leader be persuaded to stay here till tomorrow?”

“Well, it would certainly be good for the morale,” Shadowheart agreed, letting her pack drop with a thud. “I, for one, am not moving anywhere until I wash the viscera out of my hair.”

“Tsk, vanity is a vice, dear,” Astarion teased, moving to set up his tent.

“Says the vainest person in Faerûn and beyond,” Shadowheart shot back, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Most certainly! But you see, it would be a sin against all creatures to deny them the opportunity to gaze in admiration upon my beauty. You agree my sweet, don’t you?” he grinned, looking at you fondly.

“Perhaps, although when it comes to looks, I’m afraid this lot certainly could dethrone you, Astarion. You are an attractive bunch,” you smile at your friends as they prepared to finally, finally enjoy the weather rather than suffer in the heat.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest, but I am just happy that we aren’t getting attacked for once. I am half-expecting something to jump out the bushes at any moment. We need to stay vigilant,” Wyll reminded everyone.

“Argh, monster hunters,” Astarion scoffed, “so paranoid.”

You didn’t hear Wyll’s reply, choosing to step into your tent and begin to shed the layers upon layers that you had on.

As you undressed, you scowled as you uncovered yet another scar. Spells healed cuts and wounds well enough, but unfortunately your body was covered in reminders of battles fought.

You tried not to think about. You had bigger, more urgent matters to attend do. But, as you thought of Astarion’s beautiful, unmarked face, you felt an ugly feeling rise as you thought of how a creature as perfect as your elf would think of you when the adventure would come to its inevitable end.

You knew he was fond of you. Knew that he was grateful for what you did for him. And maybe that would be enough for a while still. But you also were under no illusion about what would happen once it was no longer necessary for your merry little band to stay together. The end of the Absolute would probably mean the end of this alliance. They would all carry on their personal quests, fighting their battles, living their lives. And you would let them go. Let Astarion go too. Because you loved him and realised that there would be nothing worse than deny him the freedom that he so desperately fought for.

You heard splashing and laughter from outside the tent, making you smile. You didn’t feel like joining in, but perhaps you could go for a little swim once everyone settled in for the night. Yes, a midnight dip sounded heavenly.

Hours trickled by and finally everyone bid each other goodnight and soon all was still. You gathered your supplies and put on a thin cotton slip. It was not something that you would usually dare to venture out in, but everyone was clearly resting, so what was the harm?

Quietly, you slipped out and walked barefoot along the shore, careful to avoid the sharper rocks, and made your way away from camp.

As you were about put your things down, you felt the fine hairs on the back of your neck rise. Someone or something was watching you.

“Astarion, if you want to catch me unawares, then you shouldn’t have doused yourself in your signature scent. I could smell you before I could hear you,” you turned, your eyes locking with ruby ones.

“Oh, please! I was hardly being subtle,” he took a step towards you, “in fact, I was all but stomping my feet not to startle you.”

“Sure you were,” your lips quirked into a smile and you shivered, suddenly feeling very exposed as he levelled you with an intense, hungry look.

“Any particular reason for you waiting until now to go down to the river, hm? I thought you just couldn’t wait to cool down.”

You gripped the towel tighter, not wanting to talk about your insecurities. As far as everyone was concerned, you were the confident, daring leader. The one who threw yourself headfirst into the epicentre of any battle. And you would rather walk on red-hot coals than admit that you were self-conscious about your body to Astarion, out of all people. Being in a situationship with an impossibly gorgeous vampire did not mean that you felt worthy of being in a relationship with the said mind-numbingly beautiful vampire.

This wasn’t the most exposed you were, you all but shared a tent and were intimate on several occasions. But sex was about being lost in the moment, there was hopefully little opportunity for him to see the full extent of the damage done to your body over the years.

“Darling?”

Your eyes snapped to his fingers as he reached out to cradle your wet face in his hands.

Shit.

Were you crying? You so were not standing near naked in the middle of nowhere with your intoxicatingly beautiful lover and pathetically crying because you felt that you could never, ever hold a candle to him even on your best day. Except apparently, you were.

“I- I’m sorry. I guess the heat got to me. You should go back to camp.”

“I’m staying.”

“No,” you wanted to sound firm, but it came out far less certain than intended.

“Why?”

You pulled on the hem of your slip down subconsciously and looked away. Astarion was quick to catch on. His eyes softened and his hands fell to your shoulders.

“Darling, how many times do I have to tell you how beautiful you are for you to believe it? I can hardly keep away from you.”

“I know. But that’s hardly attraction. I am just, kind of, there. And you are grateful and, I suppose, maybe you-”

He scoffed. “Don’t insult me by insinuating that I have been forcing myself to come to your tent every night for the past several months. You were the first to tell me that I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And now, I very much want to do this.”

You saw a flash of a blade in your peripheral and then felt the fabric slide down as it fell to the ground. You dropped the folded towel you were still holding in a futile attempt to keep what was left of your clothes on you.

“Perhaps a more hands on demonstration of how I feel about you is in order. Time to be a man of deeds, rather than of words, so to speak.”

His lips found your neck as he threw the dagger on the ground and gripped your waist tight, pulling you closer to his body.

“But my scars-”

“Love, I don’t want to hear a single word out of your mouth unless it is my name, are we clear?”

“But-”

“You told me that my scars don’t define me. That I am more than just my past. It is baffling that you would show endless kindness to anyone but yourself. So let us not waste another moment. No more words.”

You nodded and your eyes fluttered closed, submitting to his eager hands.

“This is what happens when we have no opportunity for taking some time to ourselves. Yet another drawback of staying within earshot of everyone. We are overdue for a little private pool party, hm?” he said, lifting you up and carrying you to the river.

And then Astarion descended onto you, mapping your body with his lips, committing your sighs and moans to memory.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[haespoir]

cave me in: mkl.

⨯ pairing: plug!mark x reader

⨯ word count: 1.3k 

⨯ summary: haechan introduces you to his dealer friend, and mark lee makes it so hard to keep the relationship strictly business. not that you minded anyways. 

⨯ warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), some suggestive content, i think thats it enjoy :3

⨯ playlist: cave me in, gallant / half moon, dean / wfm, realestk 

⨯ extra content: part two

⨯ a/n: im completely normal about mark lee i swear ty @markonthemoon​ for furthering my completely normal feelings about mark lee... there might be a part two. 

. . . 

It had been at least 3 hours since you had picked up edibles from Mark. Three whole ass hours, and yet he was still laying on his bed feeling less than whole. Who did you buy them for? Were you getting high with someone else? Was it a guy? 

The first time Haechan had introduced you to him he didn’t pay it any mind. You were a close friend of the younger male’s situation-ship… Whatever the fuck that was. But it was no more than that in his eyes. You were someone who occasionally bought from him, and you were always so polite about it too. And for some unknown reason, or at least unknown to him, that bothered him. A few weeks later, a not-so-sober conversation with Haechan revealed that Mark had a crush on you. One he denied vehemently. Though he guessed out of everyone he sold to, you were the most ideal to date. 

Who the fuck said anything about dating? 

Mark shakes his head as if to rid himself of such wild thoughts. “I’m just hungry,” he says to himself, thinking of ways he could fill that empty void in his stomach. If only he knew, there was no amount of food that would help him feel whole. He grabs his phone, shooting a quick text to someone who knew would also be high at this time. 

mark [11:48 pm]: ramen?  jungwoo [11:50 pm]: and netflix?  jungwoo [11:50 pm]: mark… are you asking me to hook up?  jungwoo [11:51 pm]: say less baby i’m otw!  mark [11:53 pm]: dude what mark [11:53 pm]: no, just ramen  jungwoo [11:55 pm]: mark lee you want me so bad  mark [11:57 pm]: hurry before i change my mind

Jungwoo’s texts cause Mark to roll his eyes, but he grabs his keys. “Yo, Haechan,” he calls out, peeking into the male’s LED-lit room. On his monitor, he sees a discord call and what he believes is your profile picture. Why were you on call with him? “I’m going get ramen with Zeus, want anything?” 

“Nah, I’m going over to my girl’s in a bit,” Haechan replies, smoothly muting the call as he gives his roommate his attention. “I’ll just see you in the morning?” Mark hums, and he’s out the door quickly. He doesn’t want to even think about the relationship between you and Haechan, not when there’s a green little monster creeping through his veins. 

Once Haechan is sure Mark is gone, he’s unmuting the call. “Personally, I think he’s into you.” 

Though he can’t see it, you’re rolling your eyes. “Haechan, you’re just saying that. You’re tired of me third wheeling?” 

“Listen... Your words, not mine, sweetheart,” he says simply. 

“Whatever dude,” you sigh, rolling onto your side on your bed. “Have fun with your shawty. I’m going to sleep.” 

“Just ask him to smoke you out or something,” Haechan says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. “I’m leaving.” 

You hear the noise of him leaving the call before you can even reply, and you’re once again rolling your eyes. You didn’t understand how your friend was into Haechan. What a fucking brat. 

I mean, you can’t just ask someone to smoke you out, right? Isn’t that something that’s offered? You groan loudly at the thought, locking your phone and tossing it on the floor. “Fuck you, Haechan,” you think bitterly. Why the hell did he have to put that godforsaken idea in your mind? 

Because the idea doesn’t leave your mind for weeks after that night. Every time you buy from Mark, you find it harder and harder to deny your attraction to the male. His actions don’t help much either. In fact, you’re convinced you’re delusional. There was no other reason. 

You had mentioned you liked rice krispie treats, and suddenly Mark has rice krispie treat edibles. With extra marshmallows no less.  

One time you heard your friends complaining that Mark had increased his prices. Which was odd because you were spending less on weed than you ever had before. Maybe they were just buying more? 

Or sometimes there’s a small baggie of only the clear gummy bears with the things you buy from him. It’s not like you had told him that the only valid flavor of gummy bears was the clear ones. 

These things weren’t just coincidences, right? Or were they? Haechan also liked marshmallow treats, so maybe they were for him. You had taken a liking to edibles, so you weren’t smoking as much as you used to. Meaning you were spending less money anyways. And Mark said that he liked the red gummy bears the most, so surely, you were just getting the ones he didn’t like. 

You let out a loud groan, ignoring the call from Haechan on Discord. Instead, you opt to shove your face into your pillow before letting out a small scream. Mark Lee was driving you absolutely crazy. 

Perhaps if you picked that call up, the text messages that flashed on your screen 30 minutes later would not have sent you into the panic that they did. 

mark [12:20 am]: yo mark [12:20 am]: i got a new strain  mark [12:20 am]: let me smoke you out? 

Maybe Haechan wasn’t a brat, and maybe you would thank him for this at your wedding years later. But none of that matters when Mark Lee is asking to smoke you out. 

you [12:29 am]: uh yea you [12:29 am]: my place?  mark [12:32 am]: say less mark [12:32 am]: i’ll bring your favorite gummies

He does bring them, and he does smoke you out. Which is why you find yourself in the position that you do. You’re sitting on the floor in your living room, your cheek pressed against Mark’s knee as he sits on your couch. You swear he looks perfect from this angle; his hair is pushed back by a headband he had stolen from you a few days ago, claiming he thought it was like a personal head massage device. You can see the way his eyes are slightly red, and you’re sure yours look exactly like his. Most importantly, his neck is on display, and you want to do nothing more than mark it up. It takes everything in you to not climb into his lap and do exactly that. 

“You look like a puppy,” Mark says, running his fingers through your hair, stopping when he reaches your ear. He’s rubbing small circles on your earlobe with this thumb, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. “My puppy.” 

God, Mark Lee was dangerous. Absolutely lethal. You groan at his words, pressing your face into his thigh to hide away from him. Unfortunately for you, this has the opposite effect, and there is no such thing as hiding from him. The sight of you nearly burying your face into his lap like this does wonders for Mark’s confidence. 

“Come here.” It’s a demand from him, and it’s one that you quickly listen to as he guides you to straddle his lap. In this new position, Mark’s hands quickly go to your thighs; the grip he has is almost bruising. But you don’t mind it, not when Mark’s got his head resting on the back of your couch and he’s staring at you in a way that makes you nervous. 

“Sorry for making you wait,” he says, and you’re feeling a bit confused. “Haechan might have given me a hint or two.” 

The confusion is gone quickly; you were going to strangle that kid. 

Mark laughs at the look on your face, easily reading the emotions as if you were an open book to him. “Don’t think about it, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.” 

And when Mark Lee presses a kiss against your jaw, his hands traveling under your shirt, you know you’re done for. 

[chqolan]

Ed boyfriend headcanons (sfw + nsfw)

A/N: this white boy is taking over my life again and i had no choice but to write my own self indulgent thoughts,, nsfw ahead too (sorry not sorry)

TW: fem reader, very self-indulgent LMAO, oral, dirty talk, swearing, ed being hot

sfw

dating ed is a very interesting ride to be on. he’s a troubled man with a troubled past who’s in the process of becoming better along with those around him.

given the life he’s been living, he’s probably not used to being all that affectionate,, so don’t expect too much pda with him.

don’t get it twisted though, because he has no shame in showing you off- in fact, he’s proud to have somebody as sweet as you by his side.

at most, he’ll keep an arm around you while the two of you are out. he needs people to know that you’re his after all.

however,, when the two of you are alone, things are different.

ed allows himself to be much more touchy with you in closed/private spaces. he’ll often let you sit on his lap with his arms bringing you in closer to his chest.

expect much more kisses from him too,, this man just can’t help himself ugh he’s so down bad (and you are too)

smooches everywhere…

lips, cheeks, neck, you name it !

even if he’s not the best at it, ed also tries to be a gentlemen when it comes to you.

growing up and being raised by balrog surely doesn’t give him a lot to work with when it comes to mannerisms. but he’ll do his best to hold doors for you, lend his jacket to you and also buy you flowers (if you like that sort of thing ofc).

on the topic of balrog, i believe ed would still try to ask him for advice regarding his relationship with you. that’s his pops, so it’s the only person he can think of!

if not that, he’d go to falke and the rest of his neo shadaloo group. they’d give their best opinions on where ed should take you out for your next date etc.

also given his line of work, there are times he won’t always be around with you, so he cares a lot about making the time he spends with you memorable.

some of his favourite dates with you would probably be the times he’s taken you to boxing matches or some of those sketchy fight clubs.

(not the most romantic places…but like i said, he doesn’t have much of a guide on how to be that pleasing for a pretty lady like you all the time. pls bear with him LMAO)

but trust, he wouldn’t go to these type of places with you if he couldn’t protect you. there are a few times he’s gotten in some street fights while you were around, but you can’t deny how hot he looked when he has to throw down,, so it’s okay!

he would also teach you small boxing tricks, just for fun of course, but also protection (as if you’ll ever need it when he’s around).

ed would always deeply appreciate how genuine you are with him. the way you participate in the love he has for his interests just has him head over heels for you.

and he’s just the same when it comes to your own interests, too! you’re both there for each other.

you like video games? he’ll play some with you.

you like spending time on skin care? he’ll apply however many face washes, face creams and face masks you bring him.

and if you’re lucky, he might allow you to test your new makeup on him.. just once…

anyways he’s so in love with u hehe

(also i would love to push the agenda of ed having a girly girlfriend, but i’ll save that for another time LOLL)

nsfw

by his own nature, ed is a pretty rough man, so expect that to unintentionally cross over when y’all are in bed.

when the two of you are together, he highly prefers being in charge. his ego is too big for him to submit to anybody, sorry.

he wouldn’t necessarily be a hard dom at all times. he could definitely be a softer dom depending on the overall mood.

though on a regular basis, he's not soft.

he's got quite the ego, so he goes crazy whenever you beg or praise him.

tell him how good he’s making you feel, tell him that nobody else can make you feel this way, tell him that you’re his !

ed also has a habit of getting riled up with the more his ego gets stroked, so it’s a win-win !

in his own way, he’s a respectful and kind boyfriend , but he’ll be in love with degrading you during sex. and i also cannot stress this enough… ed absolutely loves dirty talk.

“you were made to take my dick,"

“there’s a good slut ,, bouncing on my cock like her life depends on it,”

“you enjoy bein’ my little cum dump, baby?"

needless to say, he’s pretty vocal when it comes to sex and won’t be afraid to let out some moans from time to time.

his sounds will usually come in ranges between grunts and groans, but the small moans are there occasionally.

ed wants you to feel good at all times, so he definitely doesn’t mind getting a little messy with giving oral.

also hear me out on this…

pulling his hair back when he’s eating you out. he’s a total sucker for feeling a bit of pain such as scratches on his skin and tugs on his hair.

mhm ,, so pull back that swoop of hair that’s always covering his face and don’t stop tugging on it. just being able to see both of his eyes looking up at you while his face is stuffed in your pussy— oh lawd…

also don’t be afraid to cum all over his face, he’s a freak and he most definitely loves that shit.

however… with that being said, ed mostly prefers receiving oral.

sucking him off is when you’ll be able to hear him moan the most. wether he’s talking his shit or just moaning/groaning, he just can’t keep quiet.

something about him makes me assume he loves it all messy and sloppy, so he won’t worry about the mess you make while you’re down there, so go crazy and go stupid !

regarding the noise ed makes, it’s the perfect opportunity for him to keep on talking while you’re busy gagging around him.

he’d love to guide your head with his big hand and just keep on talking,

“you’re takin’ my dick like a champ…good girl,”

“yea, that’s right. choke on my cock, babe”

and if you’re comfortable with it, his favourite thing to do is cum all over your face. like he is obsessed.

but now, let’s talk about positions. ed’s favourite position has to be anything that allows him to get a good view of your ass.

yes. he is an ass man, i said what i said.

his go-to would probably be doggy, everything about it was perfect. as if the view of your ass wasn’t perfect enough, he’s still able to lean closer to you, whispering obscene words in your ear while his cold chain presses against your back and sends shivers all around your heated skin.

if he’s in any position that’d allow him to see your face, he would just love watching your fucked out expressions as you cry out for him.

(oh and he totally grabs the headboard while he’s hittin it)

i also forgot to mention he’d love overstim omg

there’s something about seeing how much he can push you over the edge that just gets him so turned on. he just thinks to himself like ‘damn, i really did that’ LOL

and i can’t forget to mention one of my personal favourite headcanons for him,

dirty talk, except it’s in german-

personally i don’t know any german, but ik this german boy has some crazy game and it’d be so hot omg.

you don’t even need to understand what he’s saying to know he’s saying some nasty shit.

when it comes to ed, he enjoys a partner who goes along with how much a freak he is. so be as dirty as you want him him, trust.

feeling bored and want some attention? take his hoodie and keep it unzipped with nothing else on except for a pair of panties and his chain that looks even larger on you and surprise him!

(spoiler alert: you got fucked up real bad, but not in a fight)

heheh anywaysss i have so much more i wanna put but i don’t wanna whore out even longer and make the nsfw section too much LMAO

if you’ve gotten this far, ty for reading through all of that :3

[middlingmay]

Marge is Gale's Beard AU

I don't know what happened, but this was supposed to be a funny cute little scene of Bucky stumbling across Marge getting a little frisky with another guy, not knowing she's not actually Gale's girlfriend, and promptly losing his shit. Like 1K words, max

BUT OVER 6000 WORDS LATER AND HERE WE ARE.

I need to be stopped, jesus fucking christ.

Anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: violence, blood. Also period-typical attitudes towards monogamy.

Also, John doesn't look to good for part of this fic, but he is genuinely apologetic, and comes out the other side the John we all know and love. He's just going through some things!

Read under the cut!

Ostensibly, this little get together was a send off for Bucky who was being shipped off to Thorpe Abbotts in England thanks to his new and entirely unwanted position as Air Executive. But it was also a chance for the rest of the fellas to enjoy one more night of fun and frivolity with their loved ones before they left the States in a few weeks, some of them for the very first time. Maybe some of them for the last.

And for Buck, that meant none other than Marge.

They had been friends since they were kids. She was the first and remained the only girl he had ever brought home to his mother, and even father was on his best behaviour whenever she was around. Such was the power of Marjorie Spencer.

She was also the first and only girl he had ever kissed. They were teenagers, and even if Gale wasn’t as half-wild as his classmates about all the pretty girls, he was still a hormonal boy and one night, when he walked her home, he took her little face in his big hands and kissed her.

She’d pulled back frowning. “Gale. I don’t have brothers, but if I did I reckon that’s what it’d feel like to kiss ‘em.”

She wasn’t wrong. He’d heard the nasty locker room talk about boys sporting half a woody just at kissin’ a girl, and Gale hadn’t felt so much as a flicker.

Then, some while later, he’d felt the full fury of those teenage hormones when James ‘Jett’ Granger, school football star, had bowled him over and landed on top of him on the floor with a thud.

Jett had laughed and apologised and hauled Gale, who was not dainty by any stretch of the imagination, up like he was nothing with an apology on his lips. Like he hadn’t just upended Gale’s entire world.

When he told Marge, she’d cackled and leered like a locker room boy and said, “Did you…” and stuck her tongue between her teeth.

Gale spluttered and coughed on his spit and his blood pounded in his ears. But he couldn’t deny it, even as he scolded, “Marjorie Spencer!”

But once she got over her glee and teasing, she saw Gale work his lip like a well done steak and softened. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you.”

Gale scoffed. “We both know you’re the only one round here who thinks like that.”

Even Marge couldn’t stubborn her way out of that cold hard fact.

“Alright then,” she said with a set to her jaw. “Then you’ll be my fella, far as anyone knows. Least until you find one of your own.”

Gale’s heart flooded his body with warmth and he must have looked at Marge like she was a saint. “I can’t do that, Marge. What if you find a guy you really want to be your fella?”

But Marge looked highly sceptical. “Round here? You’re all I got.”

He smiled at the sentiment but he still wore worry on his brow and Marge darted forward to kiss at least a bit of it away. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

And they never had. Right up until Gale enlisted and was due to be shipped off to basic training, Marge kept assuring him every boy that came around was a knucklehead, and as little as Gale even let himself do so much as look, he couldn’t say he disagreed with her.

The night before he left, after an awkward near silent dinner with his folks that his mother had insisted on, he and Marge had laid a blanket out on an empty field and looked at the starts.

“I still can’t believe you’re going,” she said, voice thick.

Gale couldn’t say ‘sorry’, couldn’t say he wished he wasn’t going, because he wasn’t no liar. He’d wanted to be a pilot since he was a boy and he couldn’t wait to get started.

“I’m going to miss you like crazy.” But that there, that was the truth.

Marge snorted, true and ugly. “Yeah, right. You’re going to be surrounded by all the cute boys and I’m stuck here with the cream of the Caspar crop.”

Gale kicked her shoe. “Oh, yeah. No lookin’. No touchin’. Not unless I wanna come home with a crack in my skull and a blue ticket in my first. At the least.”

Because Gale wasn’t scared of the military. He wasn’t scared of leaving home or being surrounded by strangers. He wasn’t scared at the possibility of having to head into a fight. But being found out? That petrified him.

Marge clutched his hand with all the strength she possessed. “I’ll write you,” she vowed. “Every day if I have to. I’ll spritz the letters with perfume and kiss them and everything. No one will know, I promise.”

Marge’s promises were better than the word of God.

Until he met John Egan.

The long-limbed, freckled, moustached, larger and louder than life man had thrown himself into Gale’s life with very little input from the man himself. He given him his name and kept by his side, like he’d adopted a dog.

Despite himself, Gale had actively tried to dislike John, or Bucky, at first. He put up a cold front to his overt friendliness; threw off his wandering hands possessed with so much affection that he just couldn’t keep them still. Gale refused every single invitation for as long as he could. And yet.

Gale found himself looking for Bucky in whenever he entered a room. He listened carefully whenever he spoke during briefings, and chiming in until they were bouncing ideas of off each other, unaware of the secret smiles of their superior officers. When Gale struggled to sleep, he found himself asking Bucky any question he could think of just to hear him rattle on until he was finally lulled to rest.

He stopped rejecting and started anticipating John’s touch, even positioning himself so as to welcome it, necessitate it; an arm over the back of a chair set close to his; a tiny gap in a doorway or corridor that required a gentle touch to a guy’s waist or his back. And soon Bucky became one of the only men Gale ever touched comfortably beyond a squeeze of the shoulder or a pat on the arm.

One of the other boys had tried once, to swing an arm over Gale’s shoulder. Whether it was because he saw Bucky do it and wanted to emulate the two men so respected by the others, he wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t done it again. The less said about it, the better.

Marge noticed, of course.

He hadn’t been aware of how much Bucky had filtered into his letters, and Marge’s questions had seemed innocent at first. And Gale had been all to happy for the outlet. Then in one letter she had scribbled:

He sounds like a scream, Gale. I’m glad you’ve made such a fast friend. I can't wait to meet him, and make sure he’s good enough for my fella. Can’t have you taking up with a no good kinda man who’s just going to lead you into trouble.

He knew Marge better than he knew himself. He could read between the lines: make sure he’s no bigot before you go getting attached.

Which brought them to that night at the bar. The first thing John had done on being introduced to Marge was to sweep her off for a dance.

Springing away with Gale’s girl in tow, Bucky hollered over his shoulder, “I gotta make sure poor Marge gets to dance with someone, tonight, Buck!”

The boys had all jeered and Marge swatted John’s chest playfully, but soon she was just as swept up in the force of him as they all were, and laughed with flushed cheeks the whole time.

It warmed something healing in his heart to see the two people closest to him in the world get on like a house on fire.

At one point, when Bucky went to the bar, Marge slumped into his side.

“Oh, Gale. You never stood a chance against him, did you?”

Not a snowflake’s in hell.

But before Gale could get too despondent about that, she continued. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a good man. I think he- I think you’re safe with him. Yeah?”

Gale nodded. Of course he was. It was Bucky.

Then she got that impish look on her face. “So I say, look your fill.”

Gale shushed her and looked around to see if anyone was paying closer attention than they should’ve. No one was, thankfully, and when his heart rate returned to normal, he remembered he could tease right back.

“Well," he said coyly into her ear, “speaking of looking your fill, that black-haired fella at the corner table at the back has been throwing you looks all night.”

Marge pretended to look unaffected and Gale leaned in even closer. “Don’t think I didn’t see you lookin’ back.”

Marge’s vicious little elbow checked his ribs just as Bucky came back with their drinks.

“Thank you, John,” she said primly. “But I have to visit the powder room.”

John toasted her off and looked at Buck, bemused. “Something I said?”

Gale nearly laughed. “Naw. She just likes to keep me in line.”

John shook his head. “And ain’t that a crying shame. I’m surprised she hasn’t upbraided me for trying to undo all her hard work.”

Later, Gale would blame the giddiness that came from John’s proximity for what he said next. “I only gotta behave with her. You can get me as riled up as you like.”

John inhaled too much of his drink and coughed until there were tears in his eyes. Gale flushed to his ears and kicked him under the table.

Giggling and breathless, John kicked him right back even harder. “Noted.”

“Ask Major Cleven! He’s great at calculations.”

“Sir? Sir!”

A few boys in the ground crew called Buck over, and John waved him off good naturedly. “Go awe the masses, Buck. I need a smoke anyway.”

It look less than five minutes for Marge to come barrelling towards him, a wild and furious and worried look him her eye.

“Gale, It’s John! You gotta get John!”

*

There was a door at the back of the bar that led to the dead end of an alley outside. When he just wanted a quiet smoke in the peace of the evening, John liked to head out there instead of the front with everyone else, where he could easily while away the better part of an hour talking to all and sundry.

And he was enjoying spending his evening Buck. And Marge.

She was a sweet little spitfire. She had the looks of spun glass and high class, but even after spending nothing more than a handful of hours with her, Bucky could tell she was no wall flower, no meek dame. And John didn’t think about it too closely, but he liked that the girl who Gale loved so much wasn’t so different from himself.

Where John liked the think of him and Buck as sides of the same coin - dark and light; steady and gregarious; push and pull - Marge and Buck were one of a kind, like the couples on the movie posters. Their love felt inevitable.

And, as John was learning about himself, he was apparently a possessive man, because between him and the cigarette in his mouth, he could acknowledge the bitter flash of jealousy he got when he looked at them too long.

He pushed open the back door, a box of matches in hand, and looked up on hearing two frightened gasps.

Marge. Her eyes were so wide, there was more white than blue. Her hair was a mess, clutched in the meaty hand of another man. A man who’s face was too close to the crook of her neck.

And both of them wore such fear in their eyes.

John’s cigarette finally gave up its precarious balance on John’s gaping lips and tumbled to the floor. The box of matches dove after it.

“John.” It was a tiny, panicked sound.

And it snapped John back to attention. With two strides of his long legs he had Marge tucked behind him and slammed the man into the brick wall of the alley hard, and smiled ugly with all teeth when he heard the meaty thunk of his head hit the wall.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” John snarled in the man’s face, low and incandescent with rage he didn’t even know how to begin to unleash.

“John-” Marge tugged at his back, urgent.

“Taking advantage of a girl after a few drinks-”

“No, John-!”

He grabbed two fistfuls of the guy’s shirt and rattled him until he heard teeth clack. “A girl who’s taken. By your superior officer!”

“It’s not like that!” Marge yanked at John’s ear and he was forced to turn away from the man, but he didn’t relinquish him.

He calmed himself as much as he could. “Marge. Are you alright?”

But Marge looked painfully, worryingly exacerbated. “For God’s sake, John! It’s not what it looks like!”

“It looked like he was forcing himself on ya!”

But the Marge clutching at his lapels didn’t look scared, not of the man behind him, anyway. She had a little bit of fear when she looked at him though, and John didn’t like that at all.

It’s not what it looks like.

And if it looked like she was forced…

John’s heart broke for Gale, before the red pricks of anger started to twitch at his muscles.

“Oh. It’s like that, huh?”

“No!”

“Are you with Gale or aren’t you?!”

Marge swallowed something down and almost reluctantly said, “Yes.”

The boy chose the wrong moment to pluck at the reserves of his bravado.

“There’s no harm, Major,” he panted. “It was just some harmless fun. It didn’t mean nothing. We all know Cleven’s too much of a gentleman-”

John snapped his fist into the man’s jaw and followed through. The wall was the only thing that kept him standing. So John pulled him upright and slammed a punch into the side of his face and he went tumbling down.

John followed him, straddling him as he grabbed a handful of the guy’s jacket. Blood was already smeared over his mouth and John rained down hell and hit his nose with a crack and blood came pouring outta that too.

He switched his grip to the guy’s hair to keep the lolling head upright as he leaned down and growled into his ear. “You think you’re going to make a fool out of either one of them, you got another thing coming.”

He pulled back to land one last hit, a good one to drive his point home, when a solid weight barrelled into him from behind, wrapped an arm around his waist and hauled him into the air. John spun around swinging, but another arm got a stranglehold around the back of his neck and he was wrapped up painfully tight and too close to do anything.

And the scent of Buck’s cologne penetrated his senses and the fight left him.

Because fuck. How was he going to explain this? How was he going to tell Buck he’d caught his woman in the arms of another man? Should he even tell him? If it was Bucky, he’d wanna know, but maybe if he spoke to Marge and she promised it was a drunken mistake (God knows he’d had plenty of those), and it would never happen again, he wouldn’t have to tank Buck’s perfect love story.

“John!” Buck shook him hard enough that Bucky knew he tried to get his attention more than once. “The heck were you thinking?! You outta your goddamn mind?!”

Bucky heard shuffling behind him and he managed to turn just enough in Buck’s unforgiving grip to see the man being led inside by some of their boys, who shot furtive, concerned glances at their Majors.

Then there was Marge, hanging back and looking at Buck with something awfully sorry. He felt Buck nod at her and she went to head back inside, but not before sending Bucky a scathing look and a roll of her eyes.

Now there was nothing to spare him from Buck.

Only now did Buck loosen his grip and let Bucky back a step, and only a step.

“You have done some damn foolish things since I met you, Bucky. But fightin’ with a subordinate?!”

“You don’t understand-” and Buck really wasn’t sure he wanted him to.

“I understand plenty. Marge told me everything.”

Buck couldn’t help but scoff. “Oh? And what did Marge say?”

“That you caught her neckin’ with some guy and went off the damn rails!”

Buck was shocked stupid. Not just that Marge had told the truth, but that Buck seemed more pissed at him that he was at her.

“Then why are you riding me for?! I was defending you - you should be thanking me!”

Buck tensed his jaw so hard, Bucky expected to hear a crack. “Thanking you? For nearly bringing down my whole house of cards?!”

By now Bucky felt he was missing some vital information, and he couldn’t think straight with Buck so close to him, radiating fury. He shrugged off Buck’s hands and shook his head.

“Hold on, hold on,” he held up his palms. “You’re pissed at me for socking the guy making it with your girl behind your back?”

Buck sighed harsh and annoyed like Bucky was the most exasperating thing in the world and Bucky was getting more offended by the second.

“No, y’dummy!”

“Dummy?”

“I’m mad because if Marge hadn’t kept her head and got me before anyone else saw you fighting, everyone might have found out she ain’t actually my girl!”

“I - what?!”

Buck gave a frustrated groan that didn’t quite get out of his throat and prayed for patience. And maybe a little bravery. He trusted John, vexing as he could me. But sometimes fear was instinctual. But he couldn’t let Bucky go on thinking he saw what he thought he saw. But Christ if the other man didn’t make it difficult.

“But - you and Marge - since high school. You said-”

“Well, I lied. Kind of.”

“Kind of? You kind of lied?”

Bucky huffed. “We’ve been tellin’ people we’ve been together since high school. So no one would know…about me…” he trailed off meaningfully.

For all but Bucky, apparently. “Know what?”

“That I…that…” God, why couldn’t he just say it? Bucky may be as straight as they come, but he wasn’t that kind of guy, and he was Buck's best friend to boot. He choked down his frustrations and finally managed to spit out, “That…Marge ain’t the only one who likes looking at cute boys.”

Buck blushed as he said it. He sounded like a stupid teenager. But Bucky just stuttered to a stop and gawped at him. Buck watched his mouth flap, trying and failing to utter a sound, like it too couldn’t believe John Egan had finally been rendered silent.

“I - you’re-?”

“Gay? Queer? A big ol’ blue ticket? Yeah.”

What he certainly hadn’t been expecting was for Bucky to near drop to his knees in a mix of relief and panic.

“Haah-fuck, Gale," John grimaced, breathing heavy over his knees, which looked to be the only thing supporting his weight. "They're gonna court martial me in the morning. Don’t get me wrong - I’m glad I didn’t have to break your heart, tellin’ you Marge was stepping out on you, but fuck. I punched out a subordinate. Fuck.”

Side-stepping the unintentional lie in what John said, Buck, mightily and heroically refrained from rolling his eyes. “Don't get hysterical, Bucky. It don't become you. Relax, I'll fix it.”

And really, the sheer force of the scepticism on Bucky's face was down right insulting.

“Yeah? And how you gonna do that?”

Buck's brain worked furiously for an excuse - the reason’s why men hit other men over women that weren’t jealousy. Protection being the main one, but he didn’t want to put Marge in the frame at all if possible. Then he remembered a story Bucky told him once about a boy that had taken a shine to Bucky’s much younger sister, and Bucky had followed him home one day after his sister had come home cryin' with red bruises round her wrists.

“You ain't gonna like it.”

“Solid start.”

Buck nearly cuffed him round the ear like an insolent, child. “Hush. Now, you uh, ever planning on introducing your sisters to the boys?”

Bucky balked. “Absolutely not. What does that-”

“Listen. That man inside, bleeding - he looked a lot like a fella who left your sister a little worse for wear. Let the boys take that however they see fit.”

“The hell you tryna say about my sister?!”

“Nothing, idjit! Listen!”

Bucky shut his trap with visible effort.

“He looked almost exactly like that man, and when you saw him near Marge - near her and nothing else, you understand? You lost it. Alright? You’d had too much to drink, you weren’t thinking clear, and you were seeing you baby sister, not Marge. Right?”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and the gesture was so typically Gale’s that it stole his breath to see it on the other man.

But he had to press on. “Right?”

Bucky capitulated. “Alright, alright. But Jeannie ever finds out about this, we’re both dead.”

Buck eyed Bucky then, waiting for the other show to fall. “Is that all you gotta say to me?”

Bucky's face fell and cleared in realisation and Buck's stomach bubbled with a flare of anxiety about what he might say.

“Ah, fuck. Sorry, yeah. I’ve got to apologise to Marge, don’t I?”

Buck’s eye twitched, because Bucky had to be playing so damn dumb on purpose.

But, he wasn’t wrong.

“Well, yeah. She liked that boy. And you gon’ scared him off.”

Bucky scoffed though, waving a dismissive hand. “If you’re her fake fella, Buck. Marge has got to raise her standards for her real one. Don’t worry, I’ll find her a nice guy; a real prince to your pauper, so to speak.”

“That is not how the story goes.”

But then something occurred to Buck. He’d seen Bucky charm plenty of women, a lot of them blondes. Now that Bucky knew Marge was technically single…

“You mean someone like you?”

Bucky smirked and stepped toe to toe with Buck. He let his large hands smooth out the wrinkles Buck had worked into his own uniform wrangling Bucky earlier. His fingers slipped to his crooked tie and slowly knotted it back into place.

“You callin’ me a prince, Buck Cleven?”

Buck wanted to brush it off, to turn it into a joke, say anything to break the tension. But his tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth. All his brain could process was the proximity of Bucky, the smell of Bucky, and heat of his fingers at Buck’s collar.

Bucky leaned closer, like a he had a secret to share. “That make you my princess?”

And that should not have crackled a hot, thrilling tremor to life that sent him rocking infinitesimally closer to Bucky, a gasp somehow escaping the clutch his teeth had on his lips.

Bucky’s eyes darkened, but before he could say or do anything, the backdoor to the pub opened again and Marge’s golden head popped out.

“If you two are quite done?” she sounded like a teacher scolding the class clowns. “I am fending off almost an entire bomb group in there by myself and they’re like a pack of wild dogs. Some help, if you’d be so kind.”

Buck coughed and stepped back and trotted dutifully to Marge’s side. “Sorry, darlin’,” he said and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

Bucky was left with Marjorie Spencer staring at him, hands on her hips.

“Well?” she said expectantly.

Sheepishly, Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “In my defence, you could do better?”

He saw murder in her eyes and quickly backtracked. Now was not the time for jokes. Evidently Marge did not appreciate them the way Buck did.

Bucky dropped his arms by his sides and looked her in the eye. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that, no matter what I thought. I’m not - God, Marge, I’m not a violent man. Bit of a motor mouth sure, and I’ll stand up for any of my boys, but I don’t usually…”

Marge let him stew in the silence for a bit. But eventually, “No you shouldn’t have. I might be thankful that Gale has you looking out for him, but you can’t be such a hot head, John Egan. I don’t appreciate it and Gale don’t like it.”

Gently, Bucky took one of Marge’s hands, tiny in one of his, and raised it to his lips to place a sorry kiss there with a rueful smile “I will never lay hands on someone like that again, unless it's for a very good reason. I promise. But Buck’s pretty good at keeping me in check.”

Marge blessed him with a knowing smile. “I’m sure he is.”

And then Bucky was back in full force. “But seriously, Marge, you’ve got to at least date sideways. You can’t date down. Anyone less than Buck ain’t good enough for you.”

She rolled her eyes and pointed him back inside, letting him offer his arm. “Well when you find him, you let me know. Because I’m shit outta luck.”

They re-entered the pub laughing and any remaining tension in the room seemed to release. As Bucky took Marge for another spin round the dancefloor, he felt Buck’s eyes on them and risked a glance. And what a risk. Gale stared, blue eyes pinned on him over the smooth rim of his glass, tracking Bucky’s every move and licking the moisture off his lips.

Bucky threw him a wink and mouthed, Later, princess.

*

Colonel Huglin did not appreciate having to consider disciplinary action at six am. Yet having a man like Major John Egan under his command meant Huglin’s dreams didn’t count for much.

He watched this respected, no, revered man stand before him, clasp and unclasp his hands, purse his lips, and shift his legs like he was fighting the urge to rock on his heels. Like a misbehaving school boy. If Huglin had never met him, and someone had asked him to pick out the best pilot (on par with Major Cleven), the quickest thinker, an excellent strategist and the man almost single-handedly responsible for morale on base, Huglin wouldn't even have spared John a glance.

And yet.

“I haven’t seen him yet, but I’d bet my commission that the young fella you thrashed good and sound yesterday looks real pretty this morning.”

John grimaced. And, surprisingly enough it was not the wince of one awaiting an unwanted scolding, but one that actually looked like regret. John, who never ever failed to look a man in the eye, looked down at his shoes, lips twisting, and just nodded.

Major Cleven had come to him even earlier, at 5.20am, before Huglin had even had his coffee, and filled him in on what happened last night.

“You know Major Egan, Sir. I know you don’t always see eye to eye but he’s not a violent man, not like that. But,” and Gale and leaned forward in his chair, concern creasing his brow and wringing his hands together, “his sister, before he left, she had some…awful kind of trouble. With a fella. That looked just like the man from last night, John said. You know how much he looks after the men, and he loves his sisters. It drives him crazy he’s not there to look after ‘em with their dad not being around anymore… Sorry Sir, I’m rambling.” He was, and it was unlike Cleven who was a man of few words. Surely, a testament to his worry over his friend and brother-in-arms. “I just mean to say, John thought - John saw -"

And Huglin had cut Cleven off with a wave of his hand. He understood. He’d seen countless men wide eyed, crying or screaming at something or someone who wasn’t really there. It didn’t mean Egan could get entirely off the hook, but he understood.

“You have anything to say for yourself?”

“Can I see him?”

Huglin hadn't been expecting that. “What?”

“The…guy. God I don’t even know his name. But I’d like to apologise, if he’ll let me. He deserves that at least, and I’d like to settle it before I go.”

He wasn’t due to fly to Thorpe Abbots until mid-morning. There was plenty of time. “Evans. Airman First Class Evans. And I’ll ask his superior officer and let you know.”

Bucky released a breath and nodded, more to himself, Huglin thought, before he squared his shoulders at the Colonel.

“I just want to apologise, Sir. What I did yesterday was not becoming of a Major of the US Airforce. I know that. It’s not the kind of man I am or how I want my men to see me. I’m…” John swallowed. “I embarrassed the uniform. And I hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Huglin needed a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t stupid. He knew part of the reason the men admired Egan so was because he never backed down from the higher ups, always spoke his mind and said his piece - but Huglin couldn’t think of one time it wasn’t on their behalf. To get them what they needed or give them the best odds, or even distract them on days the base just became too heavy. But this was a side of John that Huglin had never seen: the human man underneath the military man.

And Huglin had sisters, too. He could empathise.

“I’m glad to hear that, Major. Normally, there’d be a disciplinary hearing, and we’d decide what was to be done with you.”

John bit his cheek but nodded, accepting.

“But, I think in this case, I can smooth things over. If, you apologise to Evans and his CO, and goddamn cool it on the liquor, John. I mean it. There might even be a mandatory anger management session with the doc in your future, and if so I won't hear a damn single word of complaint from you, understood?”

John reared back looking stunned, and Huglin let himself enjoy it. “Don’t look so surprised. Your buddy Cleven was by here and told me everything. And be glad he did. Otherwise I’d be tempted to ground you the rest of this damn war.”

John said nothing.

“Alright, get out of here. You’ve got a trip to prepare for. And an apology, too.”

“Yes, sir,. John turned smartly on his heels and headed for the door.

When he reached the jam, Huglin called out,. "And John? Give my best wishes to your sister, will you? If they need anything, you let me know.”

John made a funny noise in his throat and nodded before he all but fled the room.

Buck was waiting for him outside. He leapt to his feet when he saw Bucky emerge looking frazzled.

“Well? How’d it go?”

Bucky fell into step next to him, and out of the corner of his mouth said, “What on earth did you tell Huglin? Because whatever it was, I almost got out of there scot-free.”

And Buck didn't fail to notice that Bucky didn’t sound happy about it. He new in the sober light of day, and with the clarity sleep brings, John would be beating himself up something fierce for attacking that boy. Which he should, by rights, but John did take self-flagellation to extremes sometimes. Gale wondered if it was the Catholic in him, lapsed or not.

“You’re still Air Exec?”

“Yeah?”

Buck nudged him. “Sounds like a punishment to me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and came to a halt at the mouth of the building, staring out onto the tarmac.

“I want to apologise to the boys,” he said, hands on his hips and head hanging low. “I just, can’t stop thinking about them seeing me like that. I don’t…”

Standing where they were, Buck couldn't do much but clasp his shoulder and lean down to look Bucky in the eye. “Then let’s go find ‘em.”

The boys, as it turned out, were just finishing getting dressed. They didn’t notice the Majors enter the bunk house at first.

“-wonder what happened?”

“None of your business, that’s what happened,” said DeMarco.

“It shouldn’t have happened.” Brady. Bucky flinched.

“Ay,” Curtis dove into the conversation. “You don’t know shit. If he got a bit banged up, then he deserved it. Don’t go thinking anything else.”

And despite himself, Bucky let himself crack a smile at Curt’s friendship and loyalty.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Brady insisted, stubborn and louder. “John’s our leader. He’s a Major. I’m his co-pilot for crying out loud. He should be setting an example, and starting bar fights isn’t it. I don’t know about you, but I want to head into war with the John Egan who has your back, and keeps his head in the air so good he solves problems before half the crew even notice they’re there. Not the John who’ll flip at a switch. I don’t like that John.”

Several of the boys protested and booed Brady and started yelling and cursing, and they knew a more serious argument was about the break out with Brady bearing the brunt of it if they didn’t step in.

Buck let Bucky go when he stepped further into the room.

“Brady’s right,” he called, and the men snapped to attention and Brady dropped the shoe he’d been polishing and stumbled to his feet.

Buck walked up steady behind Bucky, a solid presence at his shoulder. “At ease, gentlemen.”

Bucky stood tall and true. “Last night, I acted in a way that was unfit for a man of the US Airforce, rank be damned. It should never have happened, and it will never happen again. I just wanted you to know that.” He surveyed the boys and they looked on silent. “We all make mistakes, and things get heated sometimes. This one is my mistake, and I’ll own that. So don’t you boys go thinking that starting fights with your fellow airmen to blow of some steam is acceptable. It’s not. You can all learn that lesson from me. That’s part of my job - teaching you how to avoid making the same mistakes I have.”

And in true Bucky fashion he flipped the solemn mood of the room with a switch and a turn of his lips and he gave them a sincere Bucky grin.

“Like that time I wandered into the Colonel’s quarters by mistake and got stuck on latrine duty for a week.” The boys relaxed into their laughter. “Remember that?” He pointed at Curt. “You made me sleep out in that abandoned storage hut until I was done.”

“You stank!”

“Or that time I yanked Ham back from the shaky step heading into the mess hall?”

Ham howled from his bunk. “Because you’d tripped a week or so before it, and sent your scrambled eggs all down a Red Cross dame. That handprint on your cheek didn’t disappear for a whole day!”

Buck just stood back and marvelled at Bucky's ability to work a room.

“So if me or Buck here ain’t around to give you the benefit of our experience,” he reached out and clasped the back of Brady’s head and scrubbed it playfully, “be damn sure you listen to Brady. Best co-pilot there is.”

The men all hollered and scrambled to rib at Brady, rubbing his head like Bucky did or punching him playfully in the arm or chucking his chin.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “Because we’re the 100th. The best damn bomb squad there is. And we’ll damn well act like it. Do you hear me?”

“Yes sir!”

Bucky shouted louder. “I said do you hear me?!”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

“Because who are we?!”

“The 100th!”

“Who are we?!!”

“THE 100TH!”

“Then get your gear on, get out there, and show ‘em how it’s done!”

Making a thunderous racket, the boys gathered the last of their things and rushed out the door, Brady the last of the group, shooting Bucky a small, pleased, and proud smile before he disappeared.

The silence they left behind was a stark contrast. Until Buck couldn’t take it anymore.

He snorted and cackled and John threw his hands in the air. “Really, Buck?”

Buck cleared his throat and got himself under control. Adopting the highest voice he could, in something that could barely pass as Bucky's odd not-quite Wisconsin accent, he teased him, “My name’s John Egan, and I’m a terrible leader on the ground!”

Bucky shoved him hard, but yanked him back with a firm arm around his bicep and pulled him in close, so the buckles of their belts gave a soft clack in greeting.

They were alone.

“I’ll be flying at at 10.30 sharp,” Bucky mumbled up close.

Buck nodded. “I know. I’ll see you off, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Mm, with a handshake in front of the boys.”

Buck gave him a firm look. “Of course. Don’t you go thinking otherwise.”

Bucky smiled and leaned in closer, and Buck was surprised that he even could. “But the boys aren’t here, now.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re lookin’ for, huh? A little send of?”

Bucky's hands bravely slipped down to his waist and squeezed, and Buck resolutely did not think about how his waist fit all nice in John’s stupidly large hands. He was not a small man - he was tall; he worked hard all his life, and despite a less than stellar childhood, always had enough to eat. But John was just so damn big.

“Just a kiss, Buck. For luck. To tide me over till you get over the pond.”

Buck grinned, a rare one showing his teeth and leaned in until he felt the softness of Bucky's lips skim the edges of his own. He kept it there, just not quite touching until he heard Bucky's breath hitch and his hands tried their hardest not to wander some more.

And against that mouth he’d dreamed about in his sleep, he’d fantasised about in his waking hours, he murmured, playful and sweet, “No.”

He turned sharp in his heels and escaped Bucky's grasp and threw a pleased grin over his shoulder at Bucky gaping in his wake.

“Buck!”

“You’ll just have to wait for me, Johnny!” And Gale ducked out of the bunk house and left Bucky behind, to attend his duties.

And John stood there wondering what on earth he was in for, taking up with a tease like Buck Cleven. But he couldn’t wait to find out.