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paganinpurple · 4 years ago

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A Feline’s Family - MariChat May 2019

It’s been another hard week. Whilst I found a little time to edit, I found none to write. I’m gonna try writing some more today, but we’ll see. No promises on the next update as a result.

Autocorrect and I had a love-hate relationship during this chapter. It loves to tell me I’m wrong and I hate it because it’s deliberate this time.

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AO3

Chapters (If there’s no link, it’s not written yet)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

Day 22 - Sick

It was still the middle of the night when Chat awoke, briefly confused by the proximity of the ceiling above him and the darkness-muted rose colour of the duvet cover against his chest. As the memories of the sleeping arrangements from earlier caught up to his foggy mind, and the emptiness of the bed as well, he heard a muffled noise from the floor below.

Peering over he spotted a head of dark, messy hair – as its owner stood bowed over her desk, grabbing at something hastily. He noticed the tissue in her hand when she brought it up to catch her sneeze, tossing it in the trash in favour of a fresh one when she lapsed into a new bout of sniffles again.

“Are you okay, Bugginette?” he rasped out. He gripped at his throat as she looked up at him, the mere act of saying a few words feeling like an attempt to swallow a block of sandpaper.

“Kiddy?” she sniffled, her nasally tone making it clear that her nose was blocked up and interfering with her regular speech. “You should be asleeb. You need your res’ to feel bedder.”

“Looks like I could say the same to you.”

Taking advantage of his super-abilities, Chat leapt over the guard rail by the bed and landed almost silently beside her. She flinched for a moment at his reckless actions before giving him a half-hearted swat to the arm.

“You scareb me,” she grumbled when he laughed, her accompanying frown deepening when it transitioned into more of a coughing fit instead as his raw throat protested. “You shouldn’ do dat when you’re sick.”

“And you shouldn’t be down here without a blanket. Besides, I’m only a bit sick. You seem much worse off.”

“Nahb,” she told him, her voice adding a new consonant to yet another word that didn’t need one, “I always seemb worse than I actually am. I don’t feel too bad, excepd that I can’t stob sneezing.” She punctuated her words by grabbing another tissue to catch the next one that exploded out of her suddenly.

“Nuh uh,” Chat croaked out, catching her off her guard by sweeping her legs out from under her and scooping her up into his arms. “Thank God for enhanced abilities,” he thought as he wobbled for a moment, slightly weakened from his illness, but still plenty strong enough to carry her safely.

Keeping his tail pointed straight out behind him for balance as he began to ascend the steps back up to her bed, Chat desperately tried not to think too hard about the feeling of her arms pressed against the bare skin of his neck or the way she didn’t seem to cling too tightly to him. She had absolute trust in him not to drop her and it made him glow inside with pride.

When he reached the top he gently sat her down, gesturing for her to scoot up the bed and climb back under the covers and -to his relief- she did so, though not without a pause for a sneeze or two on the way. He climbed back down to grab her box of tissues and situated them beside her except when he tried to retreat again this time, she gripped his wrist. He looked up at her face for further clarification.

“You comeb back to bed too,” she sniffed, her inflamed nose standing out even in the darkness.

“I will in a minute,” he smiled, “Just need to get a few things for us first.”

With a quick fumble for the no-longer-hot water bottle from earlier, Chat retreated again to prepare to take care of his Lady.

It seemed like only a few minutes later when the words, “Hey, you still awake?” roused Marinette from the restless doze she had slipped into.

“Hmm?” she murmured.

“I made us hot drinks,” came the whisper again, “Lemon and lots of honey with a shot of cold medicine mixed in. Like my mom used to make me when I was sick. If you breathe it in while it’s hot, it can help with the sneezing too.”

Blinking a few times, clearing away the tiredness from her eyes, she tried to focus enough to take the mug from him.

“Sit up properly first, or you’ll choke or probably spill it.”

“Dowing meb? I’ll do boff.” Huh, her nose seemed to be even more clogged than before. Maybe it was to do with her tiredness, or maybe she really was worse than usual.

She righted herself, pulling the duvet up to her chin before freeing her arms to take the mug from him. The steam wafting from it smelled delicious and she inhaled as deeply as she could manage through the one nostril that would allow it. It was with a pleasant surprise that she discovered it soothed her skin where she had rubbed it raw with the tissues.

A tiny, hesitant sip revealed it tasted as good as it smelled and gave way to a much larger gulp from the mug. It was followed almost immediately by a hiss in pain at the scalding temperature.

“Careful!” he scolded her, “It needs to be hot to help the sneezing. Breathe first, drink after.”

“How comeb you’re drinkin’ yours already then?” she huffed.

He smirked gently, not fully facing her as he took a long drink from his own mug. “Didn’t let the kettle boil for mine. Switched it back on for yours. It’s you who’s been sneezing; my throat just hurts.”

“Ohb. Well, are you at least feelin’ any warmer dow?”

“Yeah, much warmer. Which reminds me…” He leant over towards the end of the bed and snapped up the hot water bottle he’d forgotten about, boldly pulling the duvet away from her and tucking the cosy accessory against her pyjama top before replacing the cover.

“Uhb…danks,” she mumbled, a warmth spreading through her from both the water bottle and her sudden affection for his thoughtfulness. “You didn’t habe to dough. I would’b been fineb.”

“Marinette.” His words were chastising.

“I would dough!” she told him, sounding very much offended despite her affectionate smile.

“You’re only sick because of me, Princess. Now blow on it a few times so you can drink it down. I think Sleeping Beauty needs a little more sleep than she does beauty right now.”

“Are you drying to say I look ab mess, Kiddy?”

“A gorgeous mess,” he smirked slyly, “As always.”

She chose to blow on her drink and take a tentative sip instead of responding awkwardly to his dreamy gaze.

When her drink was over half empty and Chat had finished his, he took the mugs away, leaving them on the desk below to be dealt with properly in the morning.

Marinette took her time curling up under the duvet, finding the optimum position to sleep in with a nose as snotty and blocked as hers bothering her. She whined for Chat to hurry up the whole time she did so, acting as if he was deliberately trying to slight her by being out of the bed at all. His amused chuckle was quickly becoming her favourite song.

When he finally started to crawl over to her, he laughed at her sprawled form laying in the centre of the bed, gently poking her side to get her attention. “I need some space too, you know,” he snickered.

“Dere’s plenty of roomb if we cuddle dight,” she said back, the cold medicine loosening her tongue enough to be even more forward than she had earlier. She didn’t even notice his startled expression at her words, instead using her arm to sloppily beckon him towards her more.

He responded eagerly, sliding into bed and positioning himself so that her face was resting against his collar bone. She snuggled in close until her nose hit something. From his viewpoint, he missed the way she screwed up her face in irritation, so he had no opportunity to think of it as cute – though he definitely would have done if he had seen the expression.

“Your bell is in de way,” she grumbled, stubbornly giving the mentioned bell a tiny headbutt in defiance, “Be Adrien againd sob I’m comfy.”

He chuckled again, -louder this time- his throat no longer feeling particularly sore when he did, thanks to his drink and most likely to Plagg too. After all, the small creature must have been enhancing his own body’s natural defences to his illness.

“Anything you say Bugginette,” he said fondly, dropping his transformation and his eyelids too, as he started to drift off to pleasant thoughts and dreams for the remainder of the night.

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#PIP writes #marichatmay2019 #A Feline's Family #MariChat May #MariChat

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vanchlo · 5 years ago

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Birdy (Green Eyes / 2)

Read the first part, Green Eyes, here! :-)

Blurb Synopsis: After finally meeting the mysterious Mr. Styles you subbed for, you take a job at the same school, right across the hall from him. You’re unsure how much longer you can hide your feelings for him as you’ve grown to become best friends.

Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, romance, angst, and a little sad.

Warnings: None

Word Count: Nearly 8k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Blackbird by The Beatles (click to listen)

Your desk was covered in Twix wrappers, multicolored gel pens, and empty cans of Coke. The new school year hadn’t even begun, and your desk already looked like a tornado had come by. Not to mention the fact that school started in almost three weeks and you hardly had any classroom books. You kept telling yourself it’s a high school English classroom, not a third-grade classroom. There’s a library down the hall for a reason, but the classroom barren of books drove you nuts. Your desk wasn’t shy to books though, as favorites of Harry had found a home on the dark wood.

Leaves of Grass.

Catcher in the Rye.

The Sun Also Rises.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Walking into your classroom on this sunny morning, the thought makes the smile on your face grow wider. Finally, you can say that you have your own classroom. The sight of the week-old books leaves the smile there on your lips. A laugh dances off of them at the sight of the Roald Dahl book, bringing you back to the memory when you found it there one morning.

You had asked Harry why he included it in the occasional stack of books he loaned to you. He said it’s required reading, because so few people know the movies are based on a book. You’re just wondering when he’s going to slip The Outsiders or Stuart Little under your door next.

The rows of ancient cream desks stare back at you, and you wonder just how you’re going to command a classroom in a few days. Well, seven of them to be exact. Then you try to remind yourself, for the twentieth time, that you’ve done this before. It won’t be so hard, then. Perhaps you’ll even have some past students, and that should help. Right?

You’ve barely gotten a few steps into your classroom, because of the thoughts muddling your mind. Sighing, you slip off your bag to leave on your chair. One that some days you don’t even sit in, because your legs are walking miles around your classroom, setting up. Thumbtacks are scattered across the expanse of your desk, reminding you of the unfinished walls. Before you can think about the posters sitting in the corner, a flash of pink catches your eye. Furrowing your brow, your eyes flit back to the flash of color.

It’s a hot pink Post-It note with messy handwriting in black ink.

Should I get us burgers or subs for the meeting we have today?

PS: You’re officially a teacher now with your own pad of Post-Its ;)

You’re sure that the insane happiness painting your face would look more at home on that of a teenager. Nonetheless, you can’t get rid of it, and you wouldn’t want to. This rings even more true when you see the note is stuck to a copy of Matilda. A warmth blossoms in your chest as you pick it up, running your thumb along the weathered edges. Ones you haven’t touched in ages, it seems. Within seconds you’re stepping into the hallway, thoughts knitting together in your mind. They’re from the love you have deep down for this story, a favorite book, and movie of yours as a child. The elation budding in your mind stops when you find his door closed, just as you had minutes ago. Unable to hide your disappointment, a pout tugs at your lips as you turn around.

“Ya gotta verdict already? Dat was quick,” a voice drawls from behind you. Your pout is a thing of the past, and a grin is making its way to replace it. Spinning around, your summery dress follows your twirling body.

A couple paces away, Harry stands at the top step of the staircase. His trademark brown leather backpack is slung over one shoulder. A black Fleetwood Mac t-shirt hugs his upper half, a black and blue flannel covering his arms. His old skool Vans echo down the hallway as he walks towards you.

“Well, I’ve already read it,” you inform him, observing his content smile turn into a confused one. “A couple of times actually. Once when I was 8, then some other times through the years.”

“Ah, so I got lucky and happened upon a lifetime favourite, have I?” he smirks, only a few steps away now.

“Mmmhmm,” you nod, your growing hair tickling your chin before you move it away. “When are you going to tell me what your favorite book is?”

“When ya finally guess it right,” he quips, stopping in front of you. A dimple falls into his left cheek as he shows off his sparkling teeth. Okay, sir, it is too early in the morning to be looking this attractive.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stop being so chipper when it’s only nine in the morning,” you tell him firmly, but it’s all for show. Poking his chest, your finger just hits pure muscle. Swoon.

“Then maybe wake up, already, birdy,” he chirps, the Raybans in his hair moving when his head goes from side to side. Chuckling, he grabs hold of your finger and tries to bite it, but you pull away in time. The mention of the recent pet name slows you down, but you haven’t gotten bitten yet. “Ya betta not fall asleep in today’s meetin’ like ya did last week.”

“I didn’t fall asleep, I was just resting my eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands into the air. His amused giggle greets your ears as he unclips his ring of keys from his blue jeans.

“Yes ya did, ya don’t getta lie t’ me, love,” he responds in between laughs, seemingly finding this more amusing than it really is.

“Oh, so John can fall asleep at meetings, but I can’t?” you ask, your voice raising with laughter and faux annoyance.

You watch Harry pluck his sunglasses from his head as you walk into his dark classroom. The streams of sunlight speckle desks and pictures donning his walls. As you flick on the light, the smell of oranges wafts over you again. The red bowl sat upon his desk filled with the citrus makes you feel at home, albeit his mere presence does that without fail.

“No, ya can’t. Sorry, love. I don’t make tha rules ‘round here.”

“Lame,” you sigh, paging through the book mindlessly as you fall into his new chair. He finally splurged and bought a comfy leather one that you steal every chance you can get.

“Want a Bit-O-Honey, honey?” Harry offers, pulling your eyes away from the familiar pictures. Grinning, you take the wrapped candy from his outstretched hand, trying to ignore the pet name. You find it hard to forget as you half look through the book and half watch him peel off his flannel. A sight, indeed.

“Wait, how’d you put this in my room if the door was locked? The other books you sneaked in when I stepped out,” you ask suddenly, working on the piece of hard candy in your mouth.

“I tol’ Marty tha janitor I forgot sumthin’ in yer room.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice even though his back is to you. A broad one at that. When he turns just the slightest to peek at you, you find crinkles around his glimmering eyes.

“Harry!” you scoff, your jaw falling to your chest, although not quite.

“Oh stop it, ya know ya like it.”

Groaning, you cross your arms over your chest in annoyance, but it doesn’t last very long.

“I don’t like all of these meetings,” you complain, throwing your head back onto the headrest. You flip to a page that makes you smile at the sight of cartoon Matilda.

“Get used t’ it, ‘s one o’ tha big differences between bein’ a sub an’ a salaried teacher. Shoulda just stayed a sub then,” he jokes, driving you to pick up a Bit-O-Honey and throw it at his head. Turning away from the things he’s unloading from his backpack, he whines. “Heeey! Watch dat arm o’ yers, ‘s a scary one. Maybe ya should be teachin’ gym class instead.”

“Sports are ew,” you reply, ducking when he throws it back at you. “Harry Styles, you stop it!” you manage in between giggles, finally closing the book.

“Oh ya, and what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it in t’ose heels, huh?” he teases, his hands leaving the pockets of his oversized backpack. “Ya gonna fly over t’ me, li’l birdy?”

Huffing, you set down the book on his neat desk. Placing his hands on his hips, he turns to you and sticks out his tongue.

“Oh, that’s it! You’re going to get it!” you threaten, standing from the chair as his laughter fills the room.

“‘m soooo scared, boohoo,” he teases with a fake sob, his fists mimicking wiping tears from his cheeks. Snickering, he returns to his backpack. “Go hang up yer posters in yer room and leave me be fer once.”

“You’re no fun,” you proclaim with a final whimper. Grabbing the book, you come up from behind him, softly hitting him with it on the shoulder.

“I warned you,” he retorts. Before you know it, he gently grabs your wrist and pulls you over to stand in front of him.

“Warned me about what?” you jest, a giggle wedging its way into your sentence as you drop the book onto a desk. You know that you’re getting on his nerves now. It’s the only time you’ve heard his teacher voice come out, but hey, you’re not complaining.

His thick eyebrows above those eyes raise, wrinkling his forehead tan from your days at the beach the last few months. Harry pushing you off a rope swing into the water, him bitching about doing all of the paddling during your canoe trip, not so accidentally drenching your back with water from his paddle, and head dunking competitions while swimming. The tan looks far better on him, you think, as you admire the sun-kissed freckles peppering his face.

“I told ya one time dat yer good at pushin’ me buttons, and here ya are doin’ it. I know I shoulda neva told ya dat,” he mutters, the curls atop his head dancing as his head rocks back and forth. The nervous laughter bubbling inside of you finds its escape, and you know that you’ve done it now. “But I guess ya jus’ don’t listen, do ya, bird?”

You can’t stop yourself, and there you are poking his dimple with your finger. This time, you squeal when it finds its way between his nibbling teeth. His name leaves your lips in a near shout which only grows worse as his fingers dance along your ribs.

“Stop, stop!” you cry out, but with no avail. His other arm comes around your middle to trap you with your back against a desk, despite your squirming. His other fingers dig into your sides before finding the soft flesh of your tummy.

“Stop bloody screamin’, yer gonna make e’rybody think ‘m murderin’ ya or sumthin’,” he titters. You almost give in at the sight of his crinkly eyes and the smile stretching across his face.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I might jus’ hafta find a way t’ shut ya up, my li’l bird,” he coos from above you, a brunette brow raising.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really,” he hums, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your side now.

His bubblegum lips relax, falling into a knowing smirk. The laughs disappear from the both of you as his fingers still, resting on your side. The seconds tick by as your heart hammers in your chest, because his face is closer than it was a second ago. You gulp, suddenly finding the gold flecks in his eyes you didn’t know were there. Or the smattering of tiny freckles along his nose. That all becomes a thought of the past when his lips become the only thing you can think about as they near you. “Shall I?” Harry says in a breathy whisper, and you’re nodding even before his last syllable hits the air.

Your skin feels hot and prickly all over as your eyes fall closed, waiting for what happens next. The very thing you’ve dreamed of since that day you dropped the books in front of him. When he took off his shirt at the beach, revealing his toned chest covered in black tattoos. The charisma and kindness he carried at your very first meeting after you were hired, the beginning of you two being joined at the hip.

His lips are soft when he presses them against yours, and warm. He surrounds your lips with his slowly, as excitement rushes through you. A woodsy smell engulfs you when your nose brushes against his prickly cheek. His lips feel like velvet against yours with the slightest taste of Carmex chapstick. You’re sure he can feel the smile hiding on yours as his top lip fits between yours like a puzzle piece. His thin beard you’ve never seen him without tickles at your skin as your lips mold together. You can still feel the tingle on your lips after he’s pulled away. As well as the one that spreads across your body when those green eyes look into yours.

“See, I was right. It did get you t’ shuddup,” he mumbles, the blissed-out smirk on his face covering every inch of his skin. You’ve seen his nervous smiles and everything in between, but you’re certain you’ve never seen that smile before. Not that your face is any better, because right now it’s a competition between whose smile is bigger. It might just be a tie, and you wish there could be a tie-breaker.

“You should do that more often,” you smile, an uneasy laugh bringing an end to your risky words.

“I think ‘d be happy with dat.”

You try to tell yourself you’re glad his hands didn’t stray to your face, because he would’ve felt the heat of your tomato likened cheeks. There’s no use, because you want them there, but on your sides, as they are is better than nothing. It fills your stomach with multitudes of butterflies just to have your hands on each other.

His hands draw shapes into your back when you wrap him in a hug. The fresh smell of his citrus body wash fills your nose, your skin touching the fabric of his shirt.

“Ya gonna get all soft on me now, are ya?” he whispers above you, his cheek against the side of your head.

“Mmmhmm,” is all you can muster as you find yourself dragging the tips of your fingers along his side.

Raising your head to peek up at him, his eyes drop to you. “Good, I like ya dat way,” he murmurs, running his thumb along the roundness of your cheek. His tongue peeks out of his lips, held between his teeth. “Verdict?” he almost laughs, causing the butterflies inside of you to stir.

“I don’t know. I think I might need um, another sample,” you smirk, watching a corner of his mouth meet his cheek.

“Tha’s fair,” he agrees before dipping to plant another kiss to your lips. His lips are even more decadent a second time, and you quickly realize how addicting this could become. You realize it’s the only addiction you’d be okay with having as the tip of his nose caresses your cheek.

Your lips part with a soft smack, much too soon for your liking. “We should prolly get back t’ work,” Harry snickers, his breath against your face sweet from the caramel candy.

“Yeah,” you agree aloud, much to your dismay. “I’d give it an A, by the way.”

“Hmmm,” he thinks aloud, quirking his eyebrows in response.

“A long overdue one.”

“‘d say yer right there,” he echos, pinching your cheek between his fingers. Giggling, you pull away as your laughs mix with each other’s.

“Hey, Harry!” a voice calls, sounding far away.

You separate quickly, like two magnets repelling each other. It saddens you, but when a colleague steps into Harry’s classroom a moment later, you’re met with relief as you grab the book off the desk.

“Hi, Trent. Ya ready t’ see who falls asleep first in t’day’s meetin’?” he quips, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly leaning against a desk.

“My money’s on John, for sure,” Trent jokes, pressing his red glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Oh hi, Y/N,” he says, greeting you. You wave with a small ‘hi’ as you stand at the edge of the classroom near the windows uneasily.

“I dunno, my money feels pretty good on her,” Harry teases, pointing a finger at you before winking.

“Whatever. I better go take my nap now that you reminded me,” you return, sauntering out of the room and into the hall.

Out of his presence, the butterflies take flight inside of you. A warmth fills your body all over when you reach the safety of your classroom. Closing the door, you fall against it with happiness jumping from the smile on your lips. Squealing with your hands held to your chest, you soon sigh at the thought of his lips. His lips soon being on yours again, and again, and again.

Exhaling, you step down from the chair and stare at your hard work. Nodding in approval, you straighten the skirt of your patterned mustard dress. The happy face of Anne Frank looks back at you from the enlarged poster of her autobiography. Dragging your feet over to your desk, you plop onto your brown spinny chair, ignoring your heels forgotten on the floor. You bask in the new ambiance of your classroom, feeling the pleasure from the new posters donning your walls.

The Diary of Anne Frank.

Ross from F.R.I.E.N.D.S saying ‘you’re means y-o-u a-r-e.’

The quote, ‘Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not’ - Tyrion Lannister.

A funny grammar poster that makes you feel like an even bigger English nerd.

Frowning, the last poster in the corner sits there begging to be shown off, but you need help with it. After the events of earlier, you’re nervous to approach Harry. A sweet kind of nervousness, but nonetheless it’s there. Huffing, you grab the edge of the desk to pull you closer. Pressing play, the Queen song crawls from your laptop’s speakers, slowly filling the room. Clicking through your open windows, you finally find the unit plan you’ve been working on.

Voices carry down the hallway outside your door, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. Squinting, as if it will help your hearing, you then tilt your head to look out your half-opened door. Jackson from the nearby history wing walks by, laughing at something somebody said.

“Dis betta not be a bloody heavy desk, Jack,” somebody responds, amusement laced in their voice.

“Hey, I know that voice,” you softly whisper to yourself, your lips curling at its sound.

“You’re the one who agreed to help me! You can’t get out of helping me bring it in now, Harry!”

You hear the melodic sound of his laugh, perhaps one of your favorite sounds. The butterflies return when you let yourself think about getting to hear it as much as you’d like in these walls. 5 days a week for 9 months out of the year- well, something like that.

A couple seconds later, Harry zooms past your door saying, “Get t’ work!” in a mocking deep voice, winking.

“You!” you shout back, giggling to yourself with hot cheeks. You attempt to return your attention to the document open on your screen. It’s difficult, you find, because the thing consuming your mind is how nice Harry’s bum looked in those jeans.

Chatter pecks at your ears as you swivel in your chair, watching your new colleagues converse around the table. Your new boss laughs with somebody standing at the room’s front by the projector screen. Reaching forward, you pluck another carrot from your plate to nibble on nervously. Once again, you pull out your phone to busy yourself, only making you feel guiltier for not mingling. You’ve already said at least a ‘hi’ to everyone in this room already, and you have the rest of your career to get to know them, you tell yourself. Bouncing your leg, your eyes drift to the clock on the wall. Impatience spreads like a hot wave throughout your limbs, bringing your eyes yet again to the back door to the conference room. When is he going to get here, you guess fervently, counting down the minutes until the meeting starts.

A thud! surprises you when a white paper bag lands on the table in front of you.

“Hmm, I didn’t know ya were a jumpa,” a voice snickers, its owner soon coming into view in front of you. Harry. “Why ya lookin’ like a lost puppy, bird?” he coos, pushing out his bottom lip as he pulls out the chair to your right.

“I’m not,” you retort, continuing to scroll through Instagram, stopping when you see a picture of a Goldendoodle puppy.

“Yes, ya do. What, were ya wonderin’ what’d ya do if I didn’t show? Can’t have ya missin’ yer security blanket now,” he teases, poking you in the ribs with a glint in his eye.

“Stop,” you giggle, placing your phone face down on the table. Sitting up and eyeing the food, you pinch his thigh for good measure.

“Hey, watch those fingas, missy. They keep gettin’ ya into trouble lately,” he warns, tsking as his head goes from side to side. Opening the bag, he pulls out a familiar wrapped burger to hand to you.

“Thank you, I’ll pay you back.”

“Shhhh, ya can pay next time. Sound good?” Harry hums, flitting his eyes to you with an eyebrow raise.

You give him his answer with a nod before taking a bite of the cheeseburger. Your boss starts to tell everybody to find a seat so they can begin the meeting. Out of the corner of your eye, Harry sets a packet of fries in front of you. Shooting him a smile, he returns it as he feeds one between his happy lips. Chairs squeak and whine as they’re moved and sat in around the long table. Somebody nudges your foot, and to no surprise, you find it’s Harry. He holds out a covered paper cup, a red straw poking from the top. A ‘thank you’ is held in your smile and he just nods, slipping off his sunglasses to set down. Your attention is stolen by his fingers raking through his curls to put them back in place.

A thought pops into your head unwarranted, and consumes your attention as the principal speaks. I wonder if this means now I get to run my fingers through those curls, you ponder as you grab a fry. At the most inconvenient time possible, your mind starts to dig around. Doubts soon fill your thoughts, along with questions about what this will be with him. You try to push them away and lock them in a box, but they’ve done their job. Any smile left on your lips is gone now, and you continue to eat your burger quietly.

“Ya eat jus’ like a bird with t’ose li’l bites,” Harry whispers, scooting closer to the table to retrieve the packets of ketchup from the bag.

Turning to look at him, he holds a glowing smile in his eyes for you. His shoe knocks into yours and he leaves it sitting on top of yours. Take that, stupid brain, you announce to your thoughts as you affectionately bump your knee against Harry’s.

Reverting your thoughts to the towering figure speaking at the front of the room, a smile buds on your lips at the feeling of Harry rubbing his knee against yours.

Rubbing your hands across your eyes, you feel the breath leave you in a whoosh. Tapping the board with your electronic marker that’s a pen, highlighter, and an eraser in one, you drag it in zig zags. The scribbles on the board disappear in a flash. Suddenly, it falls from your hands when you feel a pair of arms surround your waist.

“Hiya, bird,” a voice says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Their warm breath tickles the nape of your neck, and so does the collar of their shirt. Spinning around, you find Harry standing there, a pout forming on his face. The adorable Starry Night tie you bought for him hangs loosely over his cornflower blue button-down. “What, why won’t ya lemme hug you?”

“Harry, anybody could walk in,” you insist, prying his arms from your waist. Bending down, you pick up the pen and place it back in its holder with a click.

“All tha students are gone by now, babe. ‘s half past 3, and any dat are around are at practice. Tha last place they’d wanna be ‘s back t’ a classroom afta their first day o’ school,” he murmurs, wedging his way back into your good graces as he pulls you back into his arms. “I wanted t’ see how me birdy’s first day went. Sooooo, wha’s tha verdict?”

“It was good. A little overwhelming, though,” you hum in return, letting your head fall backward to fit against his cheek.

“It ‘s fer e’rybody, love, so don’t worry. It’ll get betta, jus’ hang in there. Tha first month ‘s nothin’, that’s tha honeymoon period befo’ e’rythin’ goes wild.” His lips brush against your cheek with every word, the feeling of his ticklish stubble something you’re not yet used to.

“Harry!” you scoff, turning your head to find his hairy cheeks creased with a devilish smile behind you.

“‘m kiddin’, well not really, but hey, ya got me t’ help ya through it all. Don’t fret, love,” he tries to assure you, brushing the back of his fingers along your side. “What was yer favourite part o’ yer day, hmm?”

“Seeing some familiar students from when I used to sub. It was nice to catch up with them and hear stories,” you reveal, looking down as you cover his hands settled on your tummy with your own.

“Mmm, that’s good. Familiar faces are always nice,” Harry mumbles, the point of his nose dragging along the expanse of your cheek. “Did I tell ya yet ya look really pretty in yer new dress?”

“Yes, you did. About three times, but thank you again.”

“Welcome, bird. I hope no teenage boys are crushin’ on ya now,” he jests, planting a loud kiss on your temple. The remnants of his minty piece of gum cover your face in a silent cloud as he laughs at his own joke.

“Yuck! Oh and like there aren’t dozens of girls fawning over you in your classes?” you chuckle, bringing a whine to his lips when you squirm in his arms. “Put that lip away.”

“Or what? Hmm, what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it? Ya can kiss it away like all tha girls in me classes wanna do, if ya want,” Harry smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you turn around. Lifting a hand from his arm, it lifts to brush back the brown ringlets falling onto his forehead.

“You’re gross sometimes. It makes me wonder how I can kiss that potty mouth.”

“Well ya do, and ya sure seem t’ like it,” he winks, dramatically licking his lips with a loud slurp.

“Stop!” you exclaim, collapsing into laughter, your head returning to his chest. His hands clasp over your back, his thumb brushing your skin through the jade dress you wear. You’re grateful for your face hidden away in his chest for when you feel his lips pepper kisses from your temple to your neck. He leaves your skin tingling from his magical touch, and his growing curls leave a trail down your neck.

“I think dis year’s gonna be a good one,” he coos against your ear, letting his smooth nose brush against its lobe. “I got tha reason right here.”

“Can we do this though?” The words jump from your lips without a chance to catch them and shove them back in their safety.

“Do what, love? Kiss? ‘Course, ya jus’ take yer lips and my lips, and put ‘em togetha’ like dis,” he wisecracks, lifting your head to show you the humor painting his face. Puckering his flushed lips, he closes the space between you to press a peck to your waiting lips. Pulling away, he quirks an eyebrow at you in silent questioning.

“That’s not what I meant, Harry,” you continue, your words falling short of the thoughts buzzing around in your skull.

“Then what’d ya mean?”

“Can we, I don’t know . . ,” you begin, but you lose your footing. Leaving his arms regrettably, you almost lose your footing quite literally when he tries to hold on. A sound leaves his lips at your departure, but you try to ignore it. That’s easier said than done, you realize as you fight with yourself, wondering if you should say that word or not. “Date . . as colleagues?”

They they are, free to the wind. It feels like coming home and your heavy book bag leaving your shoulders, although this time it’s far less trivial. The similarity doesn’t ease your anxious mind as you stop in front of your desk, fingering at the note that greeted you this morning. A pink Post-It note smattered with his sometimes unreadable handwriting, resting on top of a box of novels he gifted to you for your classroom.

To my favorite teacher - I know you’ve been dreading this day for months, and looking forward to it, too. You’re going to do great. They’re going to love you. You’re not going to mess anything up. You got this, bird. Remember that. Take it easy on yourself. Remember, you have to take care of yourself, so then you can take care of them. You’ll learn from each other too. Just keep remembering pizza at the beach with me tonight to celebrate your first day.

Harry xoxooxoxoxo

“‘Course we can, as long as it doesn’t bleed into our work life. What d’ya mean?” Harry says, trying to inject lightheartedness into his words. You both can hear the failed effect they have, and they only make his words sound sadder.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to like, get in trouble, or something. I just started this job.”

“Oh,” is all he mumbles. Mumbled or not, you hear the finality in his one word. As well as all that it says with that single syllable.

Looking over your shoulder at him, you find the confirmation you needed knitting together his features. “Harry,” you say, turning the rest of your body to face him. He takes a step back, and now you know you’ve done it. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how’d ya mean it?” he retorts, coolness playing in his voice. He knows he’s done it, too. “Hmmm, bird? Ya only care ‘bout dat part o’ it - if we get caught and what people would think? Only wanna keep me a secret?” His words bite as he spits them into the air. They hit your face with a sting, but nothing compares to how he threw your nickname into the mud. The nickname you love, that happened all because of the first meal you shared together.

“Harry, don’t. You know that’s not what I meant- Y-you’re being ridiculous,” you press, stepping forward. It’s like one step forward and two steps back, because he continues to walk away from you. Quickly, your hands grow shaky as the feeling consumes the rest of your body.

“No, I know what ya meant. Or ‘s there mo’ ya want t’ say? Want t’ say dat ‘Oh, ‘s too risky, so maybe we shouldn’t do dis anymo’, even tho’ it makes us happy,’” Harry persists, his right hand lifting in question, before it falls with a slap to his thigh.

“We never even said what this was,” you try to say, but before you get any further, you know you’re just making it worse. You know that he’ll read into your words incorrectly and assume the worst, despite your true meaning. At the realization, your heart pounds harder in your chest. The look on his face like you just slapped him tells you all you need to know. “Harry, wait.”

“No, yer right. We neva said what dis was, but apparently ‘s nuthin’ worth labelin’ or takin’ risks fer,” he grumbles. His head falls with a spiteful smile, but when it lifts again something shatters in your chest. With wet eyes, he continues in a croaky voice, “Then why’d ya take tha job knowin’ I was mad ‘bout ya?”

Your lips wobble with his name dangling from them. When you try to walk over to him, you’re only two steps in when he holds a hand up. “No, don’t. ‘m glad ya told me early on. ‘m happy I didn’t already start fallin’ fer ya or anythin’. That’d be real shitty, wouldn’t it?” he wheezes, a strange smile tugging at his lips dealing failed sarcasm. Sniffling, a tear falls down his tanned skin and he brushes it away. With a shake of his head, he turns to walk out of the door. You know that you shouldn’t, but you let him, because you know you have to.

Collapsing at your desk, your head falls into your hands. Tears splash into your palms as your chest shakes, wondering just how you turned the best first day into the worst first day.

You know that a note won’t be there, but you continue to wish as your heels clack down the halls of lockers. You know that you’ll see his face no matter how hard you try to avoid him, and that it’ll hurt more than you thought it would. Although you prepared yourself, unlocking the door to your classroom and finding no notes from him hurts more than you suspected. The hurt only stings worse when you pass each other in the halls with your students trailing behind, eyes falling away instantly. The spark in the air is lost when he huffs, passing you on the way to the vending machine in the lounge, leaving as soon as he came. Although the hurt grew as the attacks came and went, nothing could prepare you for the absence of his notes that week. That was an eventuality you had dreaded thinking of since the day you found the first one, back in his classroom.

You tried at the very least, albeit an understatement. Notes dropped into his mailbox went unanswered, as well as texts and phone calls. Even the bag of Bit O Honeys failed at their messages of apology. A few times you thought about trudging into his classroom after the bell rang, and hashing it out. Each time you mustered just enough courage to do so, a staff meeting got in the way. Or, within 5 minutes of the bell, his door was locked and he was gone. Speaking of staff meetings, you suffered even worse at those. No longer was he your security blanket at your side, because he no longer saved you a seat. Slowly, the young and pretty visual arts teacher grew to get on your nerves as you watched her be a little too nice to him. He didn’t entertain her taunts and turn to you with a smirk to rub it in your face. No, he was a good guy, and you had to go and ruin it, or what was becoming of it.

He ignored you - at staff meetings, in the copy room, in the staff lounge, in the halls, when both of your classes were in the library - basically everywhere and anywhere. It was an understatement to say you suffered because of it. You had to buddy up with Jen, the poetry teacher. She took the brunt of your questions, whether technology-related or English related. You became fast friends, but unlike the easiness with Harry, you quickly felt you were a nuisance. That was something he never made you feel like, well, until now that is.

You made the mistake of getting your hopes up when you found a bag of Bit O Honeys in your mailbox one morning. That is until the white note on it told you in his writing to stop plugging his box with them. Instead, you tossed them on the counter in the staff lounge to share, never wanting to see those yellow and red wrappers again. Quickly, what you thought had become your dream job morphed into a nightmare. His face filled your thoughts day after day, and it especially distracted you when your mind chose the tear-stricken memory. It bled into your lectures and although it stung less when you saw him, without fail every day, it was messing with your mind. It didn’t help when you were beginning a unit on Romeo and Juliet and a student joked you could play Juliet and Mr. Styles could play Romeo, quite literally.

You had been staying after school every day to finish lesson plans, grade tests, reflect on teaching, and plan for the next day. The October chill that arrived this week only made you want to stay in your cozy classroom with the Autumn decorations you hung up. Soon, it would be Halloween and costumes would fill the halls. The thought pours memories into your mind, but a particular one sours the enjoyment for you. The memory of planning a matching costume with Harry. Jay and Daisy from The Great Gatbsy, like the English teacher nerds you are. Were.

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you reach for your water bottle. A groan finds its way past your lips when you pick it up, only to find it's empty. Standing with it in your hands, you cross the room to your door. After a few steps into the hallway, your movements freeze at the sight of his open door. Biting back any hesitations, your hand shakes when it presses against the wood.

Something thrilling washes over you when you find his head bent over his desk. His left hand covered with varying rings props his head up as he marks the page with his favorite red pen. A Micron pen, but only you would know that. Pausing, he fiddles with the tan braces strapping his shoulders clad in a handsome white and gray checkered button-down. Words stick together inside of your mouth, and when you hear the click of your shoe, regret surges inside of you.

“I made a mistake,” you say, testing the waters, although you know they’re stormy. Clearing your throat, you hope the subsequent ones will come out louder and stronger, before he can stop you. Your galloping heart jumps when he lifts his head to look at you, a question painting his face. “I fucked up, and I could never say how sorry I am. I said the wrong things, and I didn’t mean them that way- that’s not the point . . . I miss you, Harry. You’re all I think about, even when I’m thinking of other things, or when I’m teaching. That’s how I know it’s bad, because even though it’s only been a month, it still hurts like it was yesterday,” your voice screeches to a halt. You take one step at a time as he watches you.

A curl tickles his bearded cheek, making you want to tuck it back into place, but you can’t. A crumb from a chip sits on his chin, making you want to brush it away, but you know you can’t. And neither can you whisk away the worry lines forming around his eyes.

“I need you, not just to help me figure out how to use a projector or what a conjunction is again. But I need to tell you about the good parts of my day, and even the bad parts. Because even though we haven’t talked for like a month, my mind still goes to you when something good happens, or even bad. Even my students tease that we should be together, so that says something,” you try your hand at joking, but he turns his attention back to his desk. “Harry, please. I’m sorry,” you plead with him, tears catching the last of your words.

“Sorry doesn’t jus’ make it all go away, bird,” he returns cooly. His head lifts ever so slightly, only to fall. As if he changed his mind a few seconds into a decision.

“I know, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll buy you Bit-O-Honeys for the rest of your life, grade your papers, check your mailbox, or buy the next meals for a month. Anything.” The apologies run off of your lips, but he doesn’t say anything, nor do his actions. An exhale whooshes over your pursed lips as your nails dig into your clenched palms. Defeat covers your body as you turn to leave.

“None o’ dat takes away what ya said,” he announces painfully, the new fabric of his chair squeaking with his movements.

“I know,” you say automatically, a battle waging its way inside of you of whether to look at him. As if his words laced with hurt didn’t already leave you breathless. “So tell me what I have to do.”

“I can’t do dat, bird. Ya should know,” he sighs, clucking his tongue in disbelief.

Your eyes fall shut and your jaw clenches in anger, but the sweet smell of oranges brings you back to the moment. “I’m sorry that I made it seem like it wasn’t worth being with you, because it was, and I realized that even more after . . what happened. I’m sorry that it didn’t seem like I was dedicated enough, but I want to be a- I want to show you that I can be, and I want to be that to you. I’m sorry that I care too much about what other people think, because I only care what you think. It’s ripped me apart lately knowing that you hate me, and how you can’t even be around me, and . . ,” your string of words breaks off, stolen away by your onset of tears. They rumble through your chest with tremors, and the embarrassment brings your hands to your face streaked with them.

The howling of the wind hugs the windows, masking any other sounds. If there were, you can’t hear them, but you do feel something. His fingers wrapping around yours, pulling your hands away from your face.

“Ya gonna stop now befo’ ya make me cry too?” he hums, one corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With raised eyebrows, they pose the question to you. Nodding fast with hiccups stealing your words, he kneads your hands between his own. “Are ya gonna shuddup or am I gonna hafta make you?” Harry softly laughs.

“You’re going to have to make me,” you return, stumbling over your sobbed words.

“Good, was hopin’ ya’d say dat.”

Smirking playfully, he steps forward to cup your face in his hands. The callused tips of his fingers make quick work of the tears staining your face, as well as his lips. “Don’t cry, and don’t ever say dat I hate you,” he coos in between pecks to your wet skin singing with his kisses. “Don’t want me pretty birdy t’ cry no mo’.”

“Your bird doesn’t want to cry and be sad, and miss you anymore,” you whimper, trying to hold it all in, but it comes pouring out.

“Baby bird,” he pouts sadly, his rose lips round and extended. His brow presses into a sad line as the same emotion carries his words. “Lemme make it all betta.”

Nodding, you hiccup again as you cover his hands with yours. His subsequent smile warms your insides cold and aching from the long days without him. His lips bring a respite when they touch yours, ending the harsh drought. Kissing him back, you revel in the feeling of his unkempt scratchy beard against your face. Just one more thing you missed. Severing the kiss, you mumble an ‘I’m sorry’ against his chapped lips.

“Shhh, ‘s okay, love. I know ya are,” he tells you before bringing his lips back against yours. They move together slowly, welcoming the return of the other.

Your mouth falls to envelope his bottom lip in between yours, his facial hair feathery against your mouth. Hungrily, you kiss him and savor his familiar taste and smell. Fingers drifting to his hair, they return home to his buttery curls. His lips pull away only to plant another kiss against your mouth. Too soon, he breaks the kiss with a breathy laugh against your lips.

“My goodness, lemme breathe, love.”

“Sorry . . I missed you.”

“Ya sure did, bird. Think I missed ya a li’l more, though,” Harry chuckles as your hands fall from his locks. His thumb steals the last hint of a tear from under your eye. The amusement creasing his features disappears swiftly. “‘m sorry too, y’know. I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have put meself over yer job. It wasn’t fair o’ me t’ do dat. D’ya think I can have those Bit-O-Honeys back, or were ya serious ‘bout buyin’ me a lifetime supply?”

Groaning, you playfully shove at his chest, only to have him wrap you up in his arms. “I guess I was serious.”

“Hmm, ya don’t sound too serious ‘bout it, bird. But that’s okay, I got all tha honey I need right here,” he replies, planting a kiss atop your head nuzzled into his neck, swaying you back and forth. Nodding, you finally let yourself relax for the first time in weeks at the greeting of his sweet smell. One that feels like home to you. “Wait, yer students said we should be togetha? That’s funny, cuz so did mine.”

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strawnarrries · 4 years ago

Text

Lover - part 3

You and Niall finally plan your first official date, but what happens when someone t-bones you all on the way to the restaurant?

Trigger warning: car crash!

hello everyone! here is the part 3 you’ve all been waiting for! i kinda gave away the ending just now but car crashes are very serious and i would never want to trigger or offend anyone so i figured it was best to have the warning just in case! its definitely not graphic at all, just a short description of what happened, but it still deserves the warning because the topic can be sensitive to some. but thank you for reading and lmk what you think! enjoy! //

The second you heard your phone ding, you immediately jumped up from the couch and grabbed your phone from the coffee table. Taking a look at the screen, you saw that Niall had finally texted you. A huge grin spread across your lips and you began to feel giddy with excitement.

After the incident, you didn’t want to text him first. You decided to wait until he texted you. After all, you were the first one to confess your feelings and you didn’t want to seem clingy. Even though he was your best friend and had known you for years, the circumstances were different now. It was a little past noon when you got the text and you would be lying if you said you weren’t waiting all morning for his name to pop up on your screen.

The text read, Hey what are ya doing ?

You replied with, Nothing, just watching netflix

Can we facetime?

Sure!

Not long after, his name popped up at the top of your screen, the silly profile picture you chose for his contact filling the rest of your screen. You clicked the accept button right away, impatiently waiting for it to load. His beautiful face soon appeared on the screen and you smiled, "Hey."

"Hey, how are ya?" he asked sweetly, showing you his pearly whites.

You could tell by the background that he had sat his phone against something on his coffee table in the living room. He was sitting on his big, creme colored couch, his black, 8-chaired dining table sitting behind him. The big windows showed off beautiful view of his backyard. The light from them making it hard to see him clearly. The small droplets of sprinkled rain that fell from the light grey clouds in the blue sky painted the glass. You smiled, “Good, thank you, how are you?”

"'m good." he smiled.

You guys talked for a little bit, laughing at stupid things each other said, the usual things you all would talk about. But once the conversation started to die down, he brought up the big question, "So, are we goin' out sometime or ya change yer mind?"

You giggled, "No, I'm up for it as long as you still wanna try it out."

"Alrighty, well where do ya wanna go?" he asked.

"I'm good with anything honestly, we could go get food, or we could go do something fun like bowling, or go t' like a drive-in movie," you hummed, throwing out a bunch of ideas.

"I'll do whatever. Yer da woman, you decide."

You rolled your eyes at him playfully because you know he knows how much you hate making group decisions like this, but you kept throwing out ideas, hoping that one would catch his attention and he'd choose.

"We could go putt-putting," you suggested.

"Y/N, ya know I suck at that," he replied, “I hate the clubs they give ya.”

"Yeah, that's why I wanna go, so I can beat you."

"I can't fuckin' stand ya," he giggled at you, shaking his head disapprovingly.

You chuckled back and there was a couple of minutes of silence before he spoke up again, "Ooh, how 'bout we go t' dat new brunch place in da city, know ya mentioned wantin' t' try dat."

"Oh, that's right! I forgot that had finally opened. Yeah, let's do that!"

"Okay, I've got a bunch of promo t' do fer me new single dis week, but 'm good dis weekend," he told you and you felt your heart beating out of your chest because you couldn't believe this was actually happening, but you were so happy that it was.

"I can do this weekend," you nodded.

"Okay, Saturday?"

"Perfect. What time?"

“Mmm, I dunno yet. Can we figure that out later in the week?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course!”

“Kay, good.”

“I’m excited.” you smiled, feeling all giddy and tingly inside.

“Me too.”

The call ended soon after that and the moment your home screen popped up again and he was off the call, you squealed happily, butterflies flying around in your tummy. You couldn't wait. You had dreamed off this day ever since you and Niall had started becoming friends. You never really thought it would actually happen, but now that it was, you couldn't be more happy.

***

Beep, beep, beep. You woke up to the blaring sound of your alarm, internally groaning. You had set it for early that morning to give yourself plenty of time to get ready for your date. You were tired from a long, stressful week at work and really just wanted to sleep in, but you were still super excited for your hot date. The other day, you all made reservations at the cute brunch place for 11:30, so he was going to pick you up at 11:15, giving you plenty of travel time. So after clicking snooze a couple of times, you eventually decided it was time to wake up. After scrolling through your phone and catching up on your social media, it was about 9:15 when you got up out of bed to start making yourself look pretty for Niall. You definitely didn’t need 2 hours to get ready for a little brunch date with Niall, but you were excited and wanted to make sure you had plenty of time to do everything you wanted to do.

You walked into your bathroom, turning on the shower and your current favorite playlist. You began to get undressed before hopping in the shower and beginning to clean yourself up. You were never one to shower in the mornings, you always preferred to shower at night, but today was special to you and you wanted to smell super fresh for Niall. Even though he was your best friend and had seen you at some of your worsts, you still wanted to impress him. After washing up, you quickly shaved your everything before turning the water off and wrapping yourself in a big, fluffy towel. After drying off your body, you wrapped your hair up with the towel. You slipped on your bathrobe and laid down in bed again, letting the towel soak up the dripping strands of your hair as you turned on the TV and scrolled through your phone again.

After about 10 minutes, you got up and hung the wet towel out to dry. You turned your playlist back on and began to get ready, brushing and blow-drying your hair before putting on light makeup. You quickly brushed your teeth and swished some mouthwash before you heard your doorbell ring. You ran to the door and unlocked it, opening it to reveal Niall, looking as handsome as ever.

He wasn’t dressed too fancy since we were only going to a brunch restaurant in the city, but he also didn’t look like he just rolled out of bed. He dressed causal, wearing a plain white tshirt with the sleeves rolled up a couple a times. He paired it with light, navy blue khaki shorts and slipped on some white Reebok sneakers. His white apple watch adorned his wrist and he had his gold earring in, complimenting his face perfectly. His black Ray-Bans covered his eyes and his hair was styled slightly messy, but so sexy.

"Hey, imma little early," he smiled and you allowed him to walk in while he slipped his sunglasses off his face and slipped one of the arms of the glasses past the collar of his shirt to hang so he didn’t have to hold them.

"That's okay," you giggled, "Why didn't ya just walk in?"

Since you both are super close, you have a key to each other's houses and whenever you plan to go over, you both can easily just walk in without a care.

"I mean, I dunno, 's a date, right?" he chuckled softly, a light shade of pink arising on the apples of his cheeks.

"We're still best friends, this doesn't havta be awkward," you giggled.

"Yeah, I know, still wanna make it proper though, I mean if we're actually tryin' dis out I wanna like treat it like it's da beginnin'."

"Okay?" you narrowed your eyes at him, "well, hi, I'm (Y/N)."

Rolling his eyes playing, he grinned at you, "Yer so annoyin'."

You giggled back before humming, "I just need t' get dressed, then we can leave."

"Sounds good," he replied.

You went back to your room and went into your closet, picking out a cute, pink shirt and pairing it with a cute pair of ripped, jean shorts. You quickly put on some deodorant and sprayed on your favorite perfume. You put in some fake diamond earrings and ruffled with your hair real quick before calling it a day, happy with your appearance. You slipped on some cute, matching sandals before heading back to where he sat in your living room.

"Okay, ready?" you grinned, walking towards the couch he was sitting on, scrolling through his phone.

He looked up at you through his lashes, slipping his phone in his pocket and standing up, "Yeah."

He began walking towards the front door while you grabbed your purse and slipped your phone into it. You followed him outside on the doorstep of your flat. You locked the door behind you and you both made your way down the flight of stairs to the parking lot. He lead the way towards his black Range Rover that sat in front of your building complex. He took out his keys and he got into the driver's seat while you hopped into the passenger side. He pulled out of the parking spot and began the journey to the fancy brunch place downtown. The radio was on low as you both spoke, talking about anything and everything.

You were mid-conversation when it happened.

"Didn't she have a s - oh my god," you gasped deeply.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, mentally preparing to come face to face with Jesus Himself as Niall slams on the breaks, a string of profanities leaving his lips. The tires screeched and you felt the car lunge forward as it slammed into the side of the other car. Your bodies were thrown forward into the airbags and you were in complete shock. A sharp pain struck in both your knees when they slammed against the dashboard in front of you. It all happened so fast, you hadn't even processed what happened yet until you heard Niall yell in pain...

"Fuckin' hell!! Me ankle!"

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hallucin8 · 5 years ago

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Catch me inside how bout dat

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years ago

Note

How about fun sex tropes number 3 w sledgefu? 😊

3. sex on a countertop/tabletop/sink because we couldn’t wait to get somewhere with cushions

I wanted to do something with the quarantine, so this is a modern-ish AU. Also, hopefully you like my chosen hard surface! I love Sledgefu but do find it difficult bc the Sledgefu writers in this fandom are … pretty much actual gods.

I loved writing this though, so thanks for the request 😊

* * * * *

Gene was done.

Completely over it.

His classes had been cancelled for the remainder of the semester, and he was suddenly filled with a sense of purposelessness.

“Gene. If ya don’t find somethin’ to do, I’m gonna have to find somethin’ for ya.”

Normally, Snafu’s words would have been suggestive, dirty actually, except that he really was tired of Eugene acting like a Victorian dandy in distress.

He would sit down to read, then stand up with a dramatic sigh as he tossed his book back on the couch. He’d putz around the apartment, opening doors then closing them, like he was looking for something. He’d clean the bathroom, then the bedroom, grumbling all the while about Snafu’s dirty laundry being everywhere but in the hamper, and in Snafu’s defense, it was usually only an errant sock or maybe the shirt that he had just taken off for the day.

Sometimes, Gene would head into the kitchen and start cooking something, only to have some minor step in the recipe go wrong and the entire dish would be tossed in the trash.

That didn’t just annoy Snafu; he hated it. Food was not ever something to be wasted.

So, when Gene started pulling ingredients out of the cupboard, it was Snaf who snapped his book shut with a sigh.

“Stop, Gene,” he commanded while walking into the kitchen.

“You tooold me to find something to do,” Gene whined.

“Not waste food.”

“Fine,” Eugene snapped and began putting the strewn ingredients back into the fridge and the cupboard.

“Put ya overshirt on.”

“Why?” he said, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that made Snafu want to slap him or kiss him—when Gene was difficult like this, he wasn’t sure which option would actually make him feel the best once it was done considering he’d only ever tried the kissing.

Snafu ran a hand through his curls, which were bordering on wild thanks to the quarantine. Eugene had offered to give him a trim, but he had only eyed his boyfriend warily, thanking him, but deciding to wait for the barber to open.

Gene’s hair was longer than usual, too, but it suited him. Snaf loved to run his hands through it, pushing it back from his forehead and just feeling the way the silky, auburn strands fell from his fingertips as he pulled Eugene’s hair up and away from his face.

“Because I asked ya to.”

Gene huffed but made his way to the bedroom. Snafu grabbed a light jacket from one of the hooks near the front door and checked the pocket for the keys to his truck. Reaching back to make sure he had his wallet, he slipped into his shoes and waited for Eugene to emerge.

“Where we goin?”

“I’ll tell ya when we get there.”

Eugene frowned, but Snafu saw something come alive in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen since the first few weeks of the quarantine when Eugene realized that he was locked inside with his boyfriend without anything to do for days and days except make love.

It was wonderful, a damn near divine experience for them both until the days droned on into weeks, then months, and they both began to realize that something like this was going to alter life as they had known it forever.

Gene followed Snafu out of the apartment, doubling back to make sure the door was definitely locked.

They drove in a comfortable silence for the first hour, the radio quietly singing but not much louder than the sound of Snaf’s truck rumbling down the highway.

During the second hour, Gene started getting antsy: shuffling in his seat, resetting his seatbelt only to adjust it again in a few more minutes, opening the glovebox for no reason and shuffling through whatever Snafu had crammed in there.

Maybe this is worse than wastin’ food, Snafu thought as he watched Gene in his peripheral.

When Eugene adjusted his seatbelt for the third time in a row, Snaf turned his head to look over at him and ended up smiling at the way his hair caught the last rays of the dying sunlight, looking golden at the edges, like a halo on a deeply ripened strawberry.

“Talk to me, Gene. Ain’t dat wha’ we do?” Snafu asked before reluctantly turning his eyes back to the road.

Gene said nothing for several minutes, and Snaf didn’t push; he knew how this worked, how stubborn Eugene Sledge could be.

After two more sighs and another snap of his seatbelt, Gene started talking.

He fumbled through his words at first, restarting his sentences and trailing off with a frustrated, “You know what I mean,” until suddenly, he found the right metaphor for what he was feeling and then he couldn’t stop talking.

Gene talked for the next hour of the trip, talked until his mouth was dry.

But god be damned if he didn’t feel better, like he had just purged himself of a gut full of rotten meat.

“Can we stop at the next gas station? I’m parched,” Gene asked, his voice raspy, but his tone light.

“I think ‘bout a lotta those things, too,” Snaf said quietly as he slid his hand over to flick the turn signal, the ticking filling the truck in the silence after his statement.

“How—how come you don’t let it . . . eat at you? I feel like I’m just raw with worryin.”

Snafu was quiet for a moment, his eyes checking the rearview and the side mirror as he switched lanes to catch the exit.

“I jus’ figure as long as I’ve got you, nothin’ else really matters. Sounds stupid, don’t it?” Snafu said with a soft laugh.

No—no it was not stupid at all, Eugene thought, realizing he wanted to do nothing other than to kiss Snafu silly for saying the most brilliant thing he had ever heard.

And once the truck was in park, Gene did just that.

He tore off his seatbelt and slid to the center of the truck, almost smacking into Snafu as he turned to see what the hell had gotten into his boyfriend, but he didn’t have to wonder long because Gene planted his lips on him in a searing kiss.

He pulled on Snafu’s lower lip with his teeth, sucking it into his mouth before he tilted his head and thrust his tongue inside, earning a moan of approval from Snafu.

Snafu’s tongue swirled around Gene’s, his mouth open wide, wanting to taste every inch of the man who meant so much to him.

Eugene was almost in Snaf’s lap when Snafu closed their kiss, gently pushing Gene away.

“Thought you was parched?” he panted.

“I am—but I guess not just for soda,” Gene grinned.

Snafu laughed and shook his head. “Come on. We got a long drive back. Let’s get some caffeine.”

Eugene clutched at Snafu’s shoulder. “This is . . . it? We’re not going anywhere?”

“No, cher. I jus’ needed ya to talk to me. Didn’t know how else to get ya to do it.”

Eugene’s face burst into the first genuine smile Snafu had seen in over two weeks.

“You sly sonofagun,” Gene said, still grinning.

“Gotta stay on ma toes with you.”

“I could kiss you.”

“Ya already have.”

“I could kiss you forever.”

“Genie, dat’s all I’m eva gonna need,” Snaf said, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Gene’s lips. “Come on—now I’m parched.”

Stocked up with drinks and snacks, the boys began their drive home, this time with Eugene sitting in the middle of the cab, leaning into Snafu’s shoulder as the conversation flowed freely amidst their glances and their laughter that now filled the cab, drowning out the music.

But after a while, it wasn’t enough for Gene to just lean into Snafu; he had started with his hand mid-thigh, an act of sweet affection more than sexual suggestion, but the affectionate gesture shifted quickly to the latter when Gene’s fingers began to flex, crawling up Snafu’s thigh higher and higher until the Cajun’s foot hitched on the gas.

“Wha’chu doin, boo?”

“Touchin’ you.”

“We makin’ poetry now?”

“Pull over ‘n we can sure make somethin,” Gene said, leaning over to capture Snafu’s earlobe between his teeth.

Snafu made a noise in his throat and took the next exit.

“There,” Eugene said, pointing to the sign that signaled a pull off for a nature preserve.

Snafu drove over the winding roads until he found a secluded turnoff, perfectly bottlenecked by tall, bald cypresses. He drove a ways into the clearing, cut the engine, and cracked the window.

“Nice out he—mmf,” Snaf began before he got cut off by a red head in his lap, squeezing between him and the steering column, the horn emitting a short beep, but neither of the boys caring as they kissed, intense and deep, lost in something they both had been badly missing.

“Want you so much. Need you Snaf,” Gene puffed out between kisses.

Snafu pushed Gene back a little, the horn again reminding them of their tight position.

“Think we need more room?”

“Ya gotta get off ma lap first,” Snaf replied with a smirk, giving Gene’s ass a light smack before he wiggled back to the middle seat.

After his feet plopped onto the dirt, Snafu pushed up his seat to pull out the sleeping bag he kept there.

“Gene,” Snaf spoke up before the red head could slide all of the way out of the cab.

He angled his curly head toward the glovebox, and Eugene popped it open, rummaging through it to find the tube of lubricant.

The boys settled in the back of the truck, and it was clear that Eugene needed to take control by the way he was immediately on top of Snafu, and it was clear that Snafu was open to whatever it was Gene needed by the way he was sighing underneath him.

Popping open Snafu’s jeans, Gene reached in and palmed his hard cock, rubbing and twisting until there was pre-cum slickening his thumb.

“I wanna fuck you so bad, Snaf. Bury my cock in you.”

“Do it, Gene. Miss ya so much.”

Popping the top off, Gene smeared lubricant on his fingers and crawled back over Snaf, spreading his legs with his knees and quickly working Snaf’s dick and opening with each hand. Eugene quickly jerked Snafu off, his hand flying over Snafu’s hard cock, twisting at the tip just the way he liked until he was spilling hot cum all over his stomach and Gene’s hand.

Before Snafu’s breathing had time to even out, Eugene slickened up his cock with the lube and positioned himself at his entrance, pushing slowly until Snafu breathed, “Fuck me.”

Eugene groaned, low and animalistic, and thrust into Snaf’s heat, both of their eyes squeezing shut at the intensity of the sensation.

“Gene,” he breathed, laying back on his elbows and looking up at the night sky, his throat bared and Eugene’s eyes raked over Snafu’s body, thinking he had never looked sexier.

“You’re beautiful,” Gene breathed as he began to move, slowly, caught up in everything that was Snafu.

Snafu’s cheeks flushed and he was glad it was too dark for Gene to see him blush. Countering the intensity of his own emotions, he bit out, “Tell me ya wan’ more. I know ya wan’ more.”

Eugene moaned and pulled out of Snafu.

“Hands and knees,” he demanded, watching intently as Snafu shot him a toothy grin that Gene could see perfectly under the night sky before he rolled over and got in position.

Gene pressed a kiss to the base of Snafu’s spine before he straightened and brought both hands down on Snafu’s ass, digging his fingers into his cheeks as he pushed into him again, the growl of satisfaction emitting from Snaf spurring Gene to really let go, to fuck him like he needed to fuck him.

Eugene admired the flexing of Snafu’s ass as he pounded into him, both of them groaning out their pleasure to the trees, to the stars, to the night itself until Gene finally felt like he had purpose again.

This man, so open and willing in front of him, was his purpose. How he could have forgotten that, he would never know, so he swore as his hips stuttered to a halt and he came inside of Snafu’s body, swore that he would never forget again.

Gene collapses on top of Snafu, pressing him into the bed of the truck, distracting the discomfort with the kisses he is peppering across every part of his boyfriend that he can reach.

“Wow,” Gene said rolling onto his back and releasing Snafu.

“I’ll fuckin’ say,” Snaf answered, rolling onto his back, too.

“Did I ever tell you you’re the best boyfriend this side of the Mississippi?”

“Only this side?”

“Well, we’re still young,” he joked as Snafu reached out to smack him. “Once this quarantine lets up . . .”

They both laugh as they shimmy back into their clothes, sliding out of the truck bed and standing in the dewy grass.

“Thank you,” Gene said, pulling Snafu close to him.

“I love ya, Gene. Jus’ want ya to be happy.”

“I am happy. I really, really am.”

And when he leans in to kiss him, Snafu knows that Eugene means it.

#sledgefu #sledgefu smut #snafu #snafu shelton #Eugene sledge #sledge #smutty smut smut

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uno-reverse-fic · 4 years ago

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Part 2 Chapter 7

Bakugo hadn't expected his morning to go the way it did. It started when he walked outside. It was a nice day, the air was not too hot, but also not too cold. He looked out at the scenery, a light blanket of fog covered the morning air, and the sun streamed through gaps in the clouds. It was a perfect morning. At least until he turned to go back inside. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something lying on the ground by the door, and when he took a closer look, he realized with horror that it was you. And despite your size he could see you violently trembling, at first he thought it was because of him, but when he crouched down he realized you were asleep.

He reached out his hand and slowly extended it towards you, his fingers finally brushed your side and his eyes widened. You were freezing. As carefully as he could, Bakugo scooped you into his hand and slowly activated his quirk, not enough to explode, just so that a faint glow of heat rose from his palms. You immediately leaned into his touch, even in your unconscious state. He nearly gasped at the feeling of your tiny body in his hands, he had almost forgotten how small you really were. He moved his other index finger over to you, lightly pressing it against your chest. Your hands wrapped around his finger and you yawned, stirring from sleep.

"Mrmmmrm," You groaned, before stretching and trying your best to roll onto your side. The added weight of a finger on top of you made the task a bit harder than expected. Once you managed to flip onto your side you buried your face in the finger next to you.

"Mrmm, Kirissshimma. 's dat youu?" You slurred in your tired state,

"Pleasse don leavve me with himm againn." Bakugo was worried and glad at the same time. On one hand at least it wasn't Kirishima who left you outside all night, but on the other hand he was gonna kill the idiot who did.

You continued to stir in your half-consciousness as Bakugo walked back up to his room. You mumbled a bit more, and snuggled further into his hand, presumably for warmth. You still were shaking, but it had calmed down severely. Bakugo pressed the tip of his finger harder against your chest, and you buried your face in it. He nudged you with his finger in an attempt to wake you up. You, however, merely groaned in annoyance before muttering something in your tiredness,

"Kirrri c'mon, I'm tirrred." Bakugo continued trying to nudge you awake,

"Half-pint wake up dammit." He whispered to himself.

You finally stretched and rolled onto your back, pushing yourself up before rubbing your eyes. When you opened them, you saw a black t-shirt, however when you looked up your face immediately fell. A pair of crimson eyes, and a head of ash blonde hair staring directly down at you. You scrambled backwards, only to run into a set of gigantic fingers looming behind you.

"Hey, its ok, I'm not gonna hurt you." He said, sliding his index finger closer to you. You eyed it warily, and shuffled away when it came to near for your liking.

"I know your terrified of me, but until I know for sure who left you outside, I don't think its the best idea to leave you with someone else. Kirishima is still in the infirmary, but he'll probably be in class this morning, I can hand you off to him then, but for now your stuck with me." You stared up at him, eyes unmoving and full of fear. He sighed and raised his hand closer to his face.

"I know you're scared, I hate this just as much as you do, though for different reasons. Just work with me here, you won't have to deal with me for long." You nodded.

He lowered you into a drawer and slid it, most of the way, shut, leaving it open slightly, probably to illuminate the inside for you. You heard some shuffling and assumed he was getting dressed, and thats when you noticed that you were trembling beyond belief. It didn't come as much of a shock to you however, you had been left outside all night and you were utterly terrified of Bakugo, after all. The drawer slid open silently and a hand emerged and engulfed you in its hold. Bakugo's fingers unfurled as he lifted you closer to his face,

"I have one question," he started,

"Who left you outside." he glared at you intently, only adding to your fear, you squeaked out a reply nonetheless,

"K-Kamin-nari." Bakugo lowered you into his pocket before heading off to class.

"Kaminari." Aizawa called.

"Yea sensei?"

"Where's Deru. I need attendance." Your teacher asked. Immediately Kaminari tensed up and started sweating and stuttering incoherent nonsense as he tried to come up with an excuse as to why he didn't have you. Bakugo couldn't help but let a bit of a smirk make its way onto his face. After a few more seconds of Kaminari's nonsense Bakugo finally spoke up,

"She's with me Sensei. Found her outside this morning." Aizawa nodded and glared in Kaminari's direction once more before starting class.

A few hours passed and you were starting to worry that Bakugo wasn't going to give you back to Kirishima. The lunch bell rang soon after the morning classes had finished, everyone started heading towards the cafeteria, but Bakugo had other plans. He made his way towards the Nurses office in search of Kirishima.

"Hey Bakubro! Nice of you to drop by!" You heard the red-head exclaim.

"Oi dumb-hair, found something of yours outside this morning. Next time leave her with someone who doesn't forget that their own head is attached to their body." Bakugo scolded, pulling you out of his pocket and handing you to Kirshima.

"Woa dude, I cant take care of her! I'm not supposed to get out of here until Thursday morning!" Kirishima said, handing you back towards Bakugo,

"How 'bout you take her! It'll be good bonding time for you two, ya know to work out all your problems or whatever." He continued, and Bakugo argued back and forth with him a bit, insisting that you stay with someone else, but Kirishima only persisted harder.

"Fine. Whatever, I'll take her for the next few days." Bakugo said, finally giving in.

"Thanks bro! Your awesome!" Kirishima exclaimed.

"Tch, whatever. Get better quick hair-for-brains." Bakugo replied, before leaving with you in his hand. He raised you towards his face and unfurled his fingers,

"Guess your stuck with me for the next two days." You whimpered in response, both terrified and upset. Bakugo sighed and muttered out a few words, however, you didn't hear what he said, as his hand was already descending back towards his blazer pocket.

The rest of the day went by relatively slow, especially when you were confined to Bakugo's desk the entire time. Occasionally he would reach his hand in to check on you, and you tried your best to avoid it at all costs, but eventually he would end up catching you and gently wrapping his fingers around you. When the bell finally rang you watched in sorrow as his hand once again found its way over to your small, helpless form, picking you up effortlessly and depositing you into his blazer pocket.

A little while later you found yourself once again in his hand, but to your delight he placed you on his desk, and sat down in the chair. You slowly stepped backwards before turning and running to hide behind a bunch of textbooks. Bakugo sighed before reaching towards his backpack for his homework. You curled up in the corner, making sure you were out of view of Bakugo first. A million thoughts rushed through your head, only further worsening the situation. You tried you best to keep quiet as tears flowed down your face, but apparently your light sobbing perked his ears because Bakugo called out to you,

"Half-pint? You ok?" You froze, and immediately grew silent.

"Half-pint?" He asked again. You watched as his hand gripped the edge of the textbooks, sliding them to the side so he could see you. You scurried backwards, but quickly got up and began running as his hand advanced towards you. But apparently you weren't quick enough. You yelped as his fingers curled gently around your body, grabbing you and pulling you back towards him. He turned his hand palm-up placed his other index finger gently over top of you so that you couldn't escape. He saw your face, an expression of horror was strewn across it.

"I know your scared of me, and I'm sorry for everything I did to you. But for now your stuck with me. I'm trying my best here, and all i ask of you is one favor. Please just don't cry. It breaks my heart to hear you in so much pain. Especially if its something I caused." You nodded, hoping he would be done and he could set you back down, but instead he shifted his finger to rest against your side, and continued speaking,

"Your only here for two days, thats all. And afterwards I won't come anywhere near you, if thats what you want." He lifted the cornered his finger to your face and tried his best to wipe your cheek off.

"Heh, I guess your a bit too small for that huh." He said.

"Yea, guess so." You replied, wiping off your other cheek with the back of your hand.

"How bout we go get some dinner? Or you could stay here while I go grab something and bring it back up?" He asked.

"I'd rather stay here." You told him. He nodded and gently put you down on the desk. As he walked out the door he took one final glance back at you before putting on a scowl and trudging downstairs.

Bakugo came back a few minutes later with a plate of fried rice and curry, as well as a smaller dish for you. He handed you your portion of the meal, and some tiny make-shift silverware, before digging in himself. You gladly joined him. While the curry was delicious, you barely ended up making a dent in the bowl he gave you. He grabbed your leftovers and downed them in a few seconds before collecting the dirty dishes to go wash them downstairs. When he came back you were gone, or at least thats what he thought, until he pulled the stack of textbooks away to reveal you curled up asleep on the desk. He carefully replaced the books before digging in to his backpack for the rest of his homework.

By the time the clock struck 8:00 Bakugo had finished his work and changed into a tank-top and shorts.

"Half-pint. C'mon its time for bed." He grumbled, picking you up gently between his fingers. You yawned and stretched in his hand, as he walked over and flopped on the bed. He laid you next to him on the pillow and rested his index finger gently on top of you. He leaned in closer to you, and you could feel his warm breath graze your side as he spoke,

"G'night little one." He said. Your heart leaped into your throat at the new nickname, and your face heated up with embarrassment. Bakugo could barely feel the light pounding of your heart against the tip of his finger, and the corners of his mouth turned up the slightest amount before he drifted off to sleep. You however were no where close to sleep after the debut of that new nickname, about 30 minutes passed before you were finally calm enough to drift off.

You didn't get very far into sleep before you heard a soft, distressed groaning coming from Bakugo. Another nightmare. You pushed yourself out from underneath his finger before contemplating your next move.

"He's terrifying, and I don't wanna go near him, especially after last time. But he's trying his best to better himself at least, and I can't stand seeing him like this. It's just too unnerving. Geez what should I do... What would Ichiyō do..." That last thought sealed the deal. You sighed before reluctantly padding over to Bakugo. You placed your hand on the bridge of his nose, before leaning into it. You gently stroked his face, or what you could reach of it at least.

"Please no. Please I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Please. Stay." He repeated his words over and over, becoming more and more desperate, before he took a quick breath in and woke up. He immediately noticed you leaning into him, and he placed his fingertips on your back, pressing you into him.

"Half-pint I'm sorry. Please stay here. I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry." He whispered, his words full of desperation.

"Hey, hey its ok, I'm here I'm not gonna leave. It was just a dream, I'm fine." You told him. You could feel his shaky breathing, and his trembling hands, as he leaned further into your tiny body. You felt something wet on your arm, as you traced the water back to its source with your eyes, you realized he was crying. Only a little bit, but it was there.

"Thanks." He breathed, and before you know it the two of you were falling asleep together, just like that.

————————————————————

Yea the schedule is nonexistent at this point. I’m so sorry for the 2 month delay, but i just had NO creative flow at all these past few months. But here it is! Finally.

Have a beautiful day you beautiful person.

MASTERLIST

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years ago

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Mission Turn It Up In The Club (It’s The Avengers)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

ONE SHOT

Warnings: fluff, dirty brains, drunk babbies, cutest allies, shocked fathers, confused jocks.

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

One Shot: When Thor indirectly challenges you- a complete noob with zero knowledge of espionage- to go on a relatively easy mission and get some intel, you accept it, never really ready for what's about to happen. And the camera crew records it all.

Word Count: Never underestimate the power of your inner voice because boy does it make you feel amazing about yourself sometimes!

Written for @captain-kelli 500 Fam Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for letting me participate! I picked the Quote (not a dialogue) : There is no limit to what we, as women, can accomplish.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

You come with your shades over your eyes and a yoghurt smoothie in your hand, and sit down on the chair in the recording room, adjusting your 'noice and toit' t-shirt before looking in the direction of the equipment. Clearing your throat and shifting back in the chair- going as back as you possibly can- you nod at Javier and get ready for the camera to roll, never taking off the shades.

You: *sighs* *rests face on your palm* *in a coarse incomprehensible voice* It all star- *tries to clear the coarseness of the throat* ahem ahem *makes bleching noises before groaning* *stops* *sighs* Hmm...where were we? *looks straight past the camera at Javier with half-open lips* Right...right. *looks back at the camera* *lips still half-open* It all started yesterday when a stupid b**** tried to become over smart.

Twenty-Four Hours Earlier

Everyone sat in the lounge of the Avengers Compound reading the reports that had just come in from Fury about a cartel trying to traffic alien wreckage- mostly weapons- to the black market. That 'everyone' excluded you, your adopted dog Zuko, and a very unamused and unbothered Loki sitting on the raised platform by the french windows with a copy of Sapiens and your favourite mug filled with hot tea.

The camera zoomed in on you concentrated on writing something on your laptop; so engrossed you were that you never noticed when Clint quietly gorged on your choco-chip cookies and drank your orange juice.

"But we only have to gather intel from a couple of guys meeting in the city today?"

Thor- who was finally at an Avengers meet after getting things in order for his Asgardians somewhere in Norway in their 'new Asgard'- pshd at the tablet in his hands and chuckled.

"Gather intel. Is that the human way to say drink some beer with these filthy humans and let them talk everything about their plan?"

"Damn right," everyone around him muttered.

"So easy even Y/N could do it," he chortled, catching your ears and a long sigh from the God sitting by the window enjoying the sun.

"Woah, now," Tony interjected, slapping Thor's shoulder with the back of his hand, "don't give her any ideas."

You narrowed your eyes at Tony. "I'm sure if Thor says I can do it-"

"Thor also said none of you ladies can process Asgardian mead," Clint added, buried in the sofa next to you, his tablet acting as a shield against the warm early afternoon sun.

Flashback to a party at the compound

Sam wobbled, trying to stand with the support of the bar while Clint kept muttering ‘I think I can see inside you guys. Like, really see.’ Bruce was being consoled by Thor in one corner. “The big guy hates me, Thor. He doesn’t-he doesn’t love me at aaaalllllll.” Scott and Bucky tried to wager who pin the donkey. The former didn’t even get to hold the tail in his hand. While all this mayhem unfurled, Natasha and Wanda sat by the bar recording everything on their phone while sipping their third Asgardian mead cocktail. “We should do this more often,” Natasha had suggested at one point during at night.

"I don’t get how you can't process it after the first buzz," Natasha called out from the dining table, never looking away from her tablet but still smiling.

"I'll sit this one out," Thor declared, sitting next to you, "I'm sure the Black Widow or Wanda can handle that."

You looked at him with an unwavering gaze for quite some time, making Thor uncomfortable after a certain point. Loki, who had caught you through the whole shebang, had a soft smile creeping on his face on watching you make his brother so uncomfortable.

"Wow," you finally spoke, letting your head move with the exclamation, "you are such a jock, aren't you?"

"A what?"

Loki: *smirks**snickers**snickers turn into uncontrollable laughter**continues laughing**stops midway with a serious look to shout* FINALLY!

"You don't want to go because there won't be any fighting and show of power," you state, turning yourself towards him, "and having conversations with guys seems too boring. Mostly because of your hate for bad guys. You know they won't give you answers straight away if you ask them politely, which I know you hate. So the next step is- 'why can't we just beat the shit out of them after they gave up on my offer to tell everything like good boys?'."

Thor: *crinkled brows* ...we can't? *looks behind the camera* why can't we?

Tony and Steve stood next to each other- former's brows creased, latter's raised, both in a bit of admiration shock- taking in your breakdown. Finally, Steve leaned a little towards Tony to whisper, "did she just profile Thor?"

"Oh, yeah," Tony answered on the same wavelength before Steve could even finish his question, "she definitely did." He concluded with a smile filled with soft pride.

"You know what, I'll take it," you casually declared to the lounge while leaning on the coffee table next to you. "Take what?" Steve asked, wanting to find out more of whatever was coming from your mouth. "The challenge," you shrugged, "I'll take up the part of getting some men to blabber about the locations. And while I'm at it, I'll get them to tell me about their boss' headquarters as well. Hmm?"

"Of course, you will," Tony chuckled softly in a trance for one second and furrowed his brows in confusion the next. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me," you announced in his direction before going back to whatever it is you were so busy doing on your laptop, leaving Tony to let his mouth open in displeasure.

"Young lady, you're not going anywhere near those sons of bitches."

Steve looked at the camera with a raised brow.

Steve: You know that moment when you see one of your best friends do everything reckless in this goddamn world, wanting you to curse him with having to once step in your shoes and see what it's like to keep him in check? *smiles with satisfaction* This is one of those days when you see it coming true. When God finally heard your prayers and sends that very friend's kid to make every one of your wishes come true. *nods* *gets serious* Though I'm against putting Y/N in danger. *shakes head* Would never let her do something as reckless as her biological father. *smirks* But damn it feels good.

Tony: *narrows eyes at the camera* Is that what Captain Star-spangled underwear thinks? *Nods* Hm. *clicks tongue* Well, that day isn't far when I fund research led by Bruce to make super babies with Steve's *makes air quotes* super semen and make him go through the fate of a father and the burdens that come with it.

*Silence*

*camera pans out to show a very pregnant and a very weirded out Pepper sitting next to him with her head resting in her palm as she hears her husband talk*

Pepper: *looks into the void* *inhales* Or you could just make him the mentor for the young heroes in the compound and watch him struggle to get them in line. *shrugs* Better yet, let him be in charge of showing Loki the ropes.

Tony: *still silent* *looks into his void* *blinks* *tilts his head* *looks back at the camera* *smirks* Pepper?

Pepper: Hmm?

Tony: *turns to face her* Have I told you how much I admire your genius?

Pepper: *making circles on Tony's arm* *whispers suggestively* You have but I won't mind you saying it again.

Tony: Well, you are genius, darling. A genius with the power to create countries and throw dictators off their high horses.

Pepper: *raises her head from her palm with a glint in her eyes* *softly announces* Anthony Stark, we're going to your office and you won't stop saying all of it till I tell you to.

Tony: *feels a visible shudder go down his spine as Pepper gets up and walks away* Y-yes ma'am. *looks at the camera with a hint of disbelief*

Pepper: *from outside the room* Now!

*Tony rushes out*

The Confidential Club

The camera went from black to a few neon lights flickering in the distance. A heavy base song faded in when everything started coming into focus.

Don't get sick

Don't get strep

Don't get bronchitis

Aye

A soothing glow of blue lit up the walls, which the camera did a slow three-sixty, through which two figures- both tall, one slender and the other jacked up- walked in a sexy slo-mo as the club started another track.

So this money shit, yeah it's been on my mind

Fuck ya possy bitch

I'ma pop off a tonne with the tummy miss

Yea this how I slum I'm bout' to see some tits

Yea ya mummy is fine

Aye

The boys walked into the neon-grazed club glowing with a hue of red, their freshly shampooed hair bouncing with every step till these two stopped right when they entered the floor, scanning the club and the club doing the same to them, but with lost breaths, increased temperatures and some very dirty thoughts and very dirty moans.

I'm a good boy I don't hit no licks yeah

I'm a bad boy flexing with some chicks yuh

I'm a weird boy smokin' on some Brits yuh

Who dat boi

I'm that boy yuh

The slo-mo continued, recording every pair of eyes that turned to get a look at the brothers whose presence was electrifying the entire building. Ladies forgot their drinks and men, men forgot their dates and- with a swift internal jolt- their toxic masculinity and the genderless seemed to have found Gods in the club tonight.

We them bad boy come give baby kiss

We just dropped it now

Now the swallow kiss

Have to beg these ladies try to do the splits

Tryna get the boy to do the coochie little

People moved as if these Gods were gravity, walking under those flickering club lights and smoked room, hands trying to get a touch, eyes wanting to get just one sweet stare, legs wanting to get a little brush, the heat pooling inside them looking for just a little satisfaction.

Yea I'm Neo watch me on the Matrix

All these sussy boy I just implore I do not play with

Baby (Baby) sure you're crazy

Boy that gave me 8 bars and some new restraint

Who that boi

I'm that boi yuh

The blond locks seemed to find suggestive fingers in them, while some other stray ones roamed on Thor's chest. Loki watched his brother being surrounded with the crowd of thirsty thots, his face dripping with pure displeasure, letting the camera catch it frame by frame, with brilliant tilts, doing it till Loki was looking right at the lens.

Who that boi

I'm that boi yuh

Another camera standing a little further recorded Javier on his knees trying to catch Loki's displeasure and piercing eyes- at anyone who even suggested that they wanted to touch him- before he looked at Javier. "What are you doing?" Loki judged Javiers' slow camera tilts.

Javier raised his index finger for a few moments, still recording those sour expressions before giving a thumbs up, getting up and walking towards the crowd that had surrounded a quite flattered Thor.

With an eye roll in his brother's direction, Loki turned to find the other camera looking at him, quite possibly directing him somewhere else because the next moment he was looking away. The camera turned in the same direction to show- behind the crowd of mellow, drunk and horny people- you laughing with your head tilted backwards, sitting with a group of men he had seen in the report when he was forced by Thor to come on this stupid so-called mission with him.

You sat between four men, enthusiastically narrating something to your small audience with wide eyes and wildly moving arms, entertaining the viewers with intention known to them and these green eyes who could see right through every one of those scums.

The camera- swivelling between you and Loki- caught him walking towards you only to be stopped by a pale hand- carrying beautifully manicured nails in blood-red- landing on his chest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Natasha suggested to the God with a bare hint of a smile on her lips.

Loki looked down at the Black Widow dressed in a body-hugging black dress. "Oh, I wasn't going to stop her from having some fun, I assure you," he implored.

Natasha brought her hand forward for Loki to take the earpiece in her hand. "She's got this. But you're welcome to listen in on the conversation," Natasha offered.

"My brother can fill in for me considering Y/N is already doing his job," he mentioned, pointing towards the crowd taking selfies with a giddy Thor making girls swoon all around him.

"Hot molten chocolate cake!" came a voice from the earpiece, loud enough for Loki sensitive ears and the recorders in all the devices to catch before the God could walk away.

"That's the safe word," Natasha declared into the earpiece, before turning to look at the table where you were.

"I really should go," you colourfully begged the man who had his hand wrapped around your arm, never letting go, "my girls must be waiting for me."

"Call your girls," the man holding you said, "we can all party in the private room upstairs."

"Call my girls?" you said a little louder as if asking Natasha what to do.

"On it." Loki heard another voice come through the comms, making Natasha's tensed back go straight.

"It's okay, Y/N," she confirmed into your earpiece, "go ahead. Tell them the girls can't wait."

The camera caught Natasha turning with a smirk that sent a cold shiver over the glowing dance floor, making Loki mirror that smirk, looking forward to it all.

The enthusiasm in Natasha's face was disturbed by some invisible ripple. "Where's Thor?"

Other Side of the Club

Javier's camera showed the blond God sitting at the bar with at least twenty ladies huddled with him, handing him drinks.

"Now this one," a petite little girl stated, handing him a tall glass of Long Island Iced Tea. Thor happily took the glass, had a decent sip, gulped it down, furrowed his brows and smacked his lips.

"No," he finally declared, earning a cheer from the girls. "Not laced!" they shouted before handing him another girl's drink.

Upstairs

The camera stuck to the corners as it followed the men violating your private space, their arms around you, walking in front of and behind you, leaving no space whatsoever to look for any signs of the cavalry.

"Woah, guys, how about you go in and I'll go look for my sisters-"

"Oh, no," the one with a stubble and a nice jawline declared, "you're coming with us and your friends can follow. Come on, let's get some more alcohol in you!"

"Haha, yeah!" you pretended to cheer, stepping inside the room behind the guy with a ponytail, who stood in the middle of the living room like a statue for a good second.

"What the hell is this?" He announced more than he asked, pointing to Anna- the camera girl- sitting at the other end of the room, recording the entrance.

"Oh," you exclaimed in realisation, making all four men turn towards you, never noticing the door be closed by another figure in the room, "that's my camera gal. She follows me everywhere. My dad kinda got into this idea of making a documentary out of our lives so one of them is always around me except for when I'm studying or in the bathroom. But I have seen them recording me once or twice when I was in the librar-"

"Shut up!" The jawline guy roared, taking out a gun from his back, "Shut the f*** up! Rory, I told you she was a student. She'll fetch a good price on the market."

You wanted to be frightened by that gun but the camera caught you more in offended disbelief than in fearful shock. "Excuse me? How old do you think I am? Just because I'm studying, you little-minded bitch?! Learning has no age limit, you arrogant paedophiles!"

"Oh well," Jaw-guy shrugged, taking off his jacket, "you're no use to the bosses then. Looks like we'll have to make use of you. And your pretty friend there can record us doing it." He grinned, both at you and then at the camera.

Ponytails looked at you with a wrinkled forehead. "Something's wrong," he stated, taking a step close to you.

"What do you mean?" The guy in the brown leather jacket asked.

"Look at her," he answered, pointing towards you, "she isn't even sweating right now."

You looked at Ponytails with furrowed brows. "You've set the temperature quite low, dude. I'm practically shivering in here."

"That's actually true," Jacket acknowledged, nodding at you.

"No, you dumb fuckers! She isn't scared!"

Jaw had a moment of realisation at Pony's words, taking hurried steps towards you, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you into the wall behind you.

"Oh my Gaahd," you tried to exclaim through whatever air was able to pass through your lungs, as you felt your hand automatically go grab the one that was causing you pain.

"Who are you?" Jaw hissed through his teeth close to your face. "Who do you work for?"

Your brows lifted. An aching moan left your lungs. You took in a little gulp of air. "I never thought this is how it goes down."

"That's because you picked the wrong men to mess with, darlin'."

Your raised brows crinkled at Jaw's statement. "What?"

You: Oh, I was thinking about the horny wave I got when he tried to choke me. *stretches the corner of her mouth in embarrassment* Yeah, turns out not the first thought that should come to your mind when someone's trying to kill you. But on the bright side I discovered a kink so *does a thumb up with both hands with a big grin.*

"But we haven't even started messing with you boys yet."

The camera swirled from your agitated, flushed face to the doorway leading to the bedroom, catching a very disinterested Wanda leaning on the wall as she checked out her nails.

"Wow," you choked, "were you always this hot, Wanda?"

"Who the fuck is this? Who the fuck are you?" Ponytails pointed his gun at the Scarlet Witch in haste, bringing forth a plasmic red spark in between her fingers, which, with a little twist, made the man point his gun at his buddy.

Another camera entered through the door to catch Jaw pulling you away from the wall to hold you in a lock with his gun pointed to your head. "One wrong move and I blow her brains out, bitch."

"One wrong move and I'll be doing the same to you, bitch."

Natasha stood behind Jaw with a gun. "Let go of her before my friend and I paint these walls with your insides."

Jaw cursed her under his breath, taking a few moments before releasing you. You quickly walked to a safer corner of the room, next to the fireplace, breathing with ease now.

"Y/N," she called out, "you okay, sweetie?"

"Uhh...just a little light-headed. Otherwise, I'm good," you responded, finding yourself lowering your voice, "though I wish someone else was choking me right now." You looked at the camera and narrowed your eyes. "Don't you judge me," you criticised in a whisper at it, feeling yourself tilt to one side, losing your balance, already fearing to hit the floor before being caught by strong hands.

"Oh," you sang while the camera panned out from you and those pale hands to show Loki very gracefully breaking your fall, "Hey, handsome!"

Loki didn't even blink as he tried to bring you back on your feet. "Drinking on a mission? Really? I thought you were better than this."

"Ugh," you bleched at him, "shush! I was in my form with those gin shots, okay. These whiney thirsty boys were blabbering the moment I sat down. Let's see your brother pull that off-wait. Why are you here?"

The two of you were oblivious to the fight going in the background being recorded by the other camera; the Black Widow breaking bones like twigs while the Scarlet Witch was making them vomit on their fears.

"Oh, I wanted to see what petty excuse do you humans use to enjoy and forget this pathetic world-"

The camera panned in on you while someone outside the frame screamed and was thrown into a wall. You smiled with pure emotion in your eyes while looking at Loki.

"You didn't know we were here, did you?" you asked with that smile still stuck on your face.

"No."

"Thor dragged you here, didn't he?"

"I came here by my own accord."

"What did he blackmail you with this time?"

"...I wasn't blackmailed! No one can blackmail m-"

Loki: Tony said he'd block my access to his library. *clenches his teeth* That old rusty metalhead.

"Fine if you don't wanna tell me. I'm just glad you came," you pointed, patting him on his chest, completely missing the knife flying towards you being blocked by his reflexes- nothing having been displaced but for his arm.

"Wow," you gasped, letting your hand touch his chest again, "what do you have under there? Rocks? How the heck is your chest so hard?"

"I'm a frost giant darling," he asserted, twirling the knife in his hand before throwing it forward without looking, landing right on Leather Jacket's hand about to pull the trigger and shoot Wanda.

"And I'm a human. What's your point? Why are your boobies so hard and mine so squishy? Look!"

You took his hand to make him feel your chest. "Okay," he cut you short before you could forcibly make him grope you.

"You are clearly running on alcohol right now."

You snorted. "No, dummy. I'm standing. Are you sure you're not the drunk one?"

Loki looked at the camera.

"I'm sorry," you whined.

The camera caught your figure partially as you hid behind Loki in the compound elevator while Wanda and Natasha stood on either side.

"Don't worry," Natasha reiterated, "we'll take care of it. Just don't tell Tony about the..." she waved her hand in the air like it meant something to you.

The ding announced your arrival to the lounge. Elevator doors opened to see Tony standing at the entrance with crossed arms, his eyes boring straight into everyone in front of him, not even bothering to blink.

Behind him Scott and Bucky sat on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and Home Alone on the big screen, their eyes and ears focused on all of you rather than the movie.

An everlasting moment of silence passed and you managed to get a look of those eyes of judgement over Loki's shoulder before quickly curling back into your hiding spot.

"Where were you?"

The room didn't even have time to register the chill when you heard Natasha speaking. "Wanda and I were out shopping. I don't know about these two," she announced with her hands raised, walking out while mouthing 'sorry' at your face that had just experienced third-tier betrayal.

"I suggest you come out from behind Aro here," Tony digressed, "he's not gonna hide you for the rest of your life."

Loki took a step out of the elevator, getting a little closer to Stark, towering him just a little, his hands resting in his pockets. Stark was visibly hating the suave play from the God.

You were stuck there for a few more seconds before stepping beside Loki, letting the camera capture the wide eyes, a gasp of shattering shock and the fumes dissipating to give place to something new.

Panning in on you, the camera caught the bruise growing on your cheek, the size of a pear.

"Y/N-" Stark had barely begun to address his horror when Loki cut him short.

"She’s fine, Stark. Just a little-"

"Who did this?!"

That erupting gaze was meant for you to answer the question and so the entire surrounding went silent for you to answer him. Even Home Alone was muted to hear what you had to say for this bruise.

"Mr Stark, I can explain." Your voice was a quarter of what it was half an hour ago, barely coming out in front of your father. "Please don't be mad. And please keep an open mind about it."

None of you could gather what rushed into Tony's mind because the next thing you knew, he felt himself shift back a little. Curse words flew under his breath as his hands tried to run over the tensed muscles in his face.

"Oh, my G-is this some sort of new...new thing you kids are into?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "What?"

You: *cringe* Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Get it out of my head! Ew!!

"N-No! I-what?! Nooooooo!" you stressed at the word as much as possible. The God stood there seemingly trying to make sense of this conversation.

"Loki and I were out on a date. We were karaoke-ing and I was dancing on the bar counter when I slipped and hit myself."

Loki did not miss even a second to look at the camera with pursed lips.

Loki: That's not what happened.

Flashback to the club

You forced Loki on the dancefloor while Natasha took care of the goons.

"Come on, show me your mooooves, Loki," you shouted over the music before giddily jumping and taking a step back, colliding with a guy.

"Oh, I'm so-"

"What the f***!" The pasty blond guy cursed at you before looking at Loki. "Take care of your bitch, asshole."

Before Loki could take a stance between the two of you, he felt your hand block him, your eyes glowing at that rude stranger.

"Who the f*** are you calling, asshole, you dried pulp-less raisin!"

The guy twisted his jaw before stepping very close to you.

Loki- clearly uncomfortable by the distance- tried to pull you towards him and away from that pathetic excuse of a human

"Alright," the God announced, "you better watch-"

The camera caught the full-blown emotion of offence on Loki's face as you swatted his hands away.

"I called. Your boyfriend. An asshole. You c***."

Loki blinked in a sense of amusement at the audacity of that man, the ripples of tensed muscles under his black t-shirt quite visible for the ones who watched.

"At least I can take a pounding unlike your ego, you smelly ballsack," you spat back. "Now walk away before I bring a mirror and show you what a real asshole looks like." The infant rage that Loki was carrying in his entire body suddenly screeched to a halt as he looked at the back of your head with shocked confusion. "What kind of insult was that?"

The pasty guy was fuming now. Your words clearly rubbing him the wrong way.

"Oh, what happened?" you sang in a sarcasm filled tone. "Did your boring comebacks turn flaccid? Just like your virgin d-"

He pushed you back. "Shut the fuck up before I make you shut up."

Loki body stood as a shield- only behind you- wanting to go ahead and do something to that guy but you were not giving him a chance to do so.

You gasped. "The audacity of this bitch!" And pushed him back. "What're gonna do, fight me?"

No one saw it coming. The punch landed on your face within seconds, pushing your back into Loki's chest, the latter having to grab you to stop you from falling.

"Okay, that's it," Loki pulled you up, his eyes on fire glaring right at the man with the intention to kill. And as his luck for the night would have it, you used him as a support to gather a bit potential, scream "Son of a-" while charging at the guy. By now the rest of the ladies on the dancefloor had witnessed enough to come to your aid and beat the living hell out of that man. Pure, chaotic energy spreading over the floor that reflected in the pleasant amusement in Loki's eyes.

"By the Norns," Loki whispered, looking at the scene unfolding in front of him before looking at the camera, "remind me never to get on Y/N's bad side."

The pasty guy screamed out of the frame, making Loki turn at him with a layer of disappointment.

"Oh, you asked for it," he shouted at the man screaming for help before being swallowed whole by the river of women.

You: *sighs* Of course, I can't tell Mr Stark I got punched while defending your honour.

Loki: *giggle snorts*

You: *turns to look at him* what?

Loki: You're right. I can see him never believing that.

You: *nodding in agreement* right?

Loki: Because he would cut my head off the day he does. *stops smiling*

You: Aw! I won't let him, buddy.

Loki: Oh, I doubt it. He is still in shock about the whole 'date' thing.

The camera flips to the lounge showing Stark sitting in between Scott and Bucky, looking in the distance- still in shock- while those two munched on their popcorns from the popcorn bowl kept in Tony's lap.

"Nah." he finally says out of the blue, almost making Scott jump, "Y/N can't date Loki? I'm sure she's just pulling my leg for not letting her go on that stupid interrogation mission."

Scott and Bucky exchanged glances before nodding and patting him on the back, resuming their movie with a 'sure buddy'.

You: *sheepishly* Yeah, I think we broke him.

Loki: At least he's behaving like he's supposed to, unlike my brother in such situations.

You: Huh...*nods* *furrows brows* speaking of Thor...where is he?

Loki:

You:

The Club-a-Dub-Dub

The camera captured a face covered by flickering neon pink shades looking down at a laptop in those big hands while glowing neon party necklaces adorned his neck.

"All right let's do this," Thor stated in all seriousness, using a pink tic-tac to pull his hair up above his ear. The camera zoomed out a little to show him looking at a laptop placed in front of him on a pedestal.

"We are gathered here for a task that is too important for this world to be left to another time. A task so huge that my heart feels both burdened and honoured to be able to put it to fruition. A task so pure in its being that anyone who stands up against it in this club shall face my wrath. But not before I try to make them change their mind with love. Rosa and Gina, I ask you to step forward and be the blessed lot of this sacred ceremony."

The slow panning out of the frame showed two beautiful women step forward and face each other with pure smiles.

"By the power vested in me by becomeaminister.com, I am honoured to announce you wife and wife. You may now kiss."

An uproar of elated excitement filled the club just as Thor finished; the brides kissing and their friends celebrating. Everyone toasted to the newlywed couple before someone shouted to do the cha-cha slide.

The next thing you know, Thor and the rest of the people in the house were sliding left and right.

"THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!!!!" Thor shouted with the jumps and twists, "I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER WHY I'D COME HERE!!"

144 notes · View notes

brooklynislandgirl · 4 years ago

Note

Are there particular scents/sounds that turn your muse on?

Does your muse enjoy dirty talk? Do they like to do the talking or being dirty talked?

Is your muse noisy in bed? How noisy? What makes them reach that level?

Love like We Love || Accepting

Are there particular scents/sounds that turn your muse on?

Beth laughs over the atrocious swill that masquerades here for coffee, but even if it’s not such a funny question, this is the most normal that she’s been in months. If she closes her eyes, she can still smell him. His clothes. On her skin. The sheets. Everything. It’s leather and smoke and woods. It’s mineral oil with a hint of cloves and a metallic tang from the swords, his knives. Chicory coffee and her blood and a little mint in a kiss. It’s the low rumble of his voice that resonates just right when he growled into her ear the words ‘you’re mine’. She can catch bits and pieces of it now and again but never all together, never the way it was when it was... It’s like being haunted by ghosts you can never be free of. One hand rises from her paper cup and she places her knuckles in the middle of her chest, running them up and down. His heartbeat still in echo of hers. A rush of tears rises and she blinks them back. “No, not any more. Especially not...here.” ~*~

Does your muse enjoy dirty talk? Do they like to do the talking or being dirty talked?

She manages to compose herself once more, and takes another sip. “Dere were kine dat he would say dat could set me on fire. Demands not negotiable, ya know? T’ings he wan see, wan me to do...an’ in just dis particular way...but it nevah was like in dem moves wi’ all da naked people doin’...naked people kine. I t’ink he really understood dere was a line between titillation an’ abuse...an’ I’ve been verbally put down, belittle, insulted...since back in lil kid time by my own family. He was softer dan dat, ya know? If any kine, mebbe... describing what he was gonna do... step by step. Meticulous like. Just dat alone was enough t’ push me ovah da edge, ya know?” ~*~

Is your muse noisy in bed? How noisy? What makes them reach that level?

“I don’t t’ink I was evah a loud person.” That’s not true. He told you a thousand times that you were too loud. Maybe not in bed but still. It’s kind of a lie, Beth.

“Least, I wouldn’t say I was. More soft moans, little vocalisations. Words an’ stuff, as you know, kinda hard for me. Especially when I’m not in myself to focus an’ concentrate on. He could always drag his name out of me, d’ough. Particularly when he bite my inside t’igh. Hand aroun’ my t’roat, squeeze so hard I could see spots dancin’ light an’ dark in my eyes. I t’ink...if I was evah brave enough t’ aks about his knives? Dat might have done it. I mean, I remembah what ya said ‘bout dem safe word, but... I nevah felt one was needed. I trusted him dat much.” And then you screwed it all up, like you were bound to do. Did you tell Viv that part? Of course you didn’t. He’s better off without you. “How...how about you? Seein’ anyone? Girl down in records... I t’ink she was always too shy t’ aks you out. But she wan you. I could smell it any time we had f’ go down dere.”

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ludi-ling · 5 years ago

Text

Crazy Eights

Well, here it is, a little treat for my followers - the first chapter of Crazy 8′s, the sequel to 52 Pickup. I’m sharing since it’s Day 7 (AU) of Rogue/Gambit Week 2020. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish this story, even though I got a fair way through it, since I wrote myself into a corner, and I’m not sure I like it very much. But I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!

Crazy Eights

Chapter 1

Thieving 101.

Simplest rule in the book.

Don’t get caught.

I can hear pere’s voice in my head, clear as day, literally beatin’ the words into all of us, his snotty-nosed, grass-stain-scuffed li’l Fagin’s gang.

Don’t. Get. Caught.

And then his face, leaning in towards mine, grinning, saying:

Unless, o’ course, you have a reason t’get caught.

Yeah, that was mon pere, full of good, subtle ideas. He’d usually direct them at me cos he knew I was like the worst kind of sponge. I’d be soakin’ all that shit up, swimmin’ in it like a gator swims in swamp water. As a kid, I’d always figured he was just picking on me. As an adult, I realise all he was doing was laying down challenges, cos he knew this punk-ass kid would rise to the bait every time, pushing every damn boundary he could along the way.

You got potential, boy. But you got no discipline. Always halfway t’ bein’ in a rage, t’ ventin’ it out on some poor trash. You play de con, kid, you live de con. No heart-on-your-sleeve shit. Dat stays inside. Cos y’know what? Folks can read dat crap a mile away.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” the man to my right grunts, as the alarms I’ve set off still scream all around us. “Getcha arse in gear. The boss don’t take kindly to waitin’.”

He prods me in the back with the barrel of his gun, a little too sharply than is strictly necessary; but I get it, he has a job to do, and actin’ mean is part of it.

“Yeah, well, that’s what bosses are like, mon ami,” I answer with a smirk. “Never got time for nothin’. Mebbe you should think about goin’ freelance, neh? It has its advantages. No calls at unsociable hours… Don’t gotta do all the dirty work y’self… Get t’ have a couple of pretty femmes hangin’ on your every word… Still. I reckon mebbe you two ain’t smart ’nuff yet t’ graduate from the ol’ ‘Crime Boss 101’ course, am I right?”

“Hey!” The guy to my left gives me a crack on the back of the head with what I assume is also the barrel of a gun. “Shut the fuck up!”

See? Boring, predictable, run-of-the-mill flunkies. These couyons ain’t never gon’ make it past mid-tier bodyguard material.

And those alarms are still screaming. Ain’t some asshole gon’ shut it off already? It’s givin’ me a headache.

Whatever. I do as I’m told and shut the fuck up. Mostly because I’m busy scanning the décor of this corridor we appear to be walking down. The walls are lined with paintings, a mess of eras and styles that could tell anyone with an ounce of taste that whoever’s collecting this shit has none. Taste, that is. All it tells me is that this guy has cash, and he don’t mind throwin’ it ’round. We walk past a Cezanne, and I grimace.

Hang on in there, li’l guy, I say to myself as we sweep right by it. One o’these days I’m gonna free you. Soon.

Cos let’s face it.

You think I’m gonna leave a Cezanne to rot in Cain Marko’s fuckin’ playboy mansion when it could be on my wall?

I think not.

We get to the end of the corridor and, thankfully, as soon as we do, someone finally finds the off switch to the alarms. My lovely escorts throw open the burnished oak doors that I can only assume lead to Marko’s private hidey-hole; and before I have a chance to admire the woodwork, I’m being pushed inside in yet another unnecessary show of who’s boss. I stumble a little over the threshold, and there he is. Cain Marko, kingpin of London town. A big, ugly, concrete slab of a man with a mat of red hair and a jaw like a foot. He’s sitting on a burgundy-red velvet sofa that looks to be late Victorian. Possibly a Chippendale? Something to research later. True to form, he has a girl on each knee.

Crimes bosses. I toldja so. Predictably borin’. Boringly predictable.

“Well, well,” Marko greets me with a menacing grimace and a Cockney rasp. “Robert Lord. Your reputation precedes you. Finally, we get to meet face ta face.”

It’s at that point that Jake decides to kick in, a harassed voice in my earpiece, hissing: “Remy? Remy, where the fuck are you? Is everything okay?”

I jerk my head to one side and Jake’s panicked questioning cuts out.

“Yeah,” I address the man on the sofa. “Coulda been under better circumstances, though. Don’t much care for bein’ kicked around and chained up.” I clink the restraints at my wrists and ankles meaningfully. “Unless, o’ course, it’s consensual and there’s a woman involved.”

An ugly grin crosses Marko’s face. He shifts a little and pats each girl on the ass; they get the message and get to their feet, tottering out on stilettos that take a certain art to walk in – neither of them have it.

“Well,” Marko says with mock disappointment as he, too, gets to his feet. “If ya wanted to meet under better circumstances, you coulda made a less shitty attempt to rob me, Mr. Lord. I’d heard you were supposed to be some thief extraordinaire, but you ask me? You, breakin’ into my safe? That was pretty fuckin’ amateurish.”

“Hey,” I banter back good-naturedly as I watch him walk over to the bar and pour himself a drink. “I got through most of your li’l traps jes’ fine, mon ami. You wanna talk amateurish, let’s talk ‘bout your alarms. They’re more fuckin’ painful than Tante Mattie boxin’ me onna ears. And it takes too long to shut ‘em off. Either that, or your flunkies are too stupid to figure out how.”

Marko, who’d looked half-amused up to this point, lets his mouth drop into a disdainful sneer.

“Y’know somethin’, yank?” he growls at me, turning back from the bar. “You talk too fuckin’ much.”

I raise a wounded eyebrow at him.

“Yank? Hey, now you’re just insultin’ me.”

“Oh really?” He laughs; and I take back the comment about his alarm system. This is worse. “Mr. Lord, insults are gonna be the least of your problems tonight. No one steals from Cain Marko and gets to just walk out again. You picked the wrong house to rob, mate. This is one job you ain’t walkin’ out of.”

He lifts his chin slightly and calls out:

“Klein?!”

There’s no answer, and he gives an irate little pause, looks over his shoulder and says again:

“Klein?! Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m here,” a woman’s voice replies from a darkened corner, her presence so unexpected it even causes me to jump.

“Fuck me, woman,” Marko rasps at her. “How long you been standin’ there?”

The woman says nothing, simply stepping out from her corner. I realise there’s a door there. It’s impossible to say whether she’d just walked through, or whether she’d been there all along. Marko ain’t big on lighting. Which is a shame, ‘cos Klein is a woman to be looked at. Mile long legs and a figure to get all wrapped up in. Brunette hair scraped back into a bun that begs to be loosened. A glance like wildfire.

“Sorry,” she says with a small twist of humour, all delivered in a perfectly delicious and proper English accent. I feel some sorta expression begin to form on my face; an appreciative little smile begins to shift round my lips.

Forget pretty girls tottering around in sexy stilettos they can’t walk in. This is a woman.

She glances over at me, then back at her boss with an expectant expression.

“This shit thief stole me old lady’s engagement ring.” He takes a cellphone out his back pocket and stares at it. “Lesse how fast you can find it for me.”

Klein don’t waste time mincing words. Unlike the two couyons behind me, she’s calm, quiet, efficient. She marches on up with a roll of the hips that’s entirely unconscious. When she’s finally in front of me, I catch a whiff of her perfume – a barely-there scent that’s not quite fruity and not quite flowery.

I cock my head to one side and hitch her a smile.

She doesn’t take the bait. Her expression is composed as she sizes me up, wondering where to start. It’s as if she hasn’t even noticed my smile at all.

“Be gentle, chere,” I quip.

That’s when she raises her eyes and gives me a look – part disinterested, part unimpressed. Her facade is almost frosty, but it don’t fool me. Beneath the cargo pants and the bomber jacket and the unadorned face, there’s a something to this woman. It’s in the sway of her hips and the sensuousness of her scent. It’s in a whole lot more besides.

She frisks me in all the usual places, and, Goddamn, her hands alone are enough to set me on fire. Her movements are precise, clinical... yet as insinuating as the touch of a lover.

Did I mention yet I haven't had sex in 8 fucking weeks?

She gets on her knees and runs her palms down my legs, and it’s almost more than I can take.

“While you’re down there, chere...” I can’t help but say; and she pauses, looks up at me with steely eyes and says... Nothing.

Her gaze fixes on my fly like it’s the only option left, and now we’re talkin’.

She holds eye contact as she raises both hands, and thumbs open the button of my pants. Her look is impassive; but there’s an undercurrent there, a something that’s signalling to me loud and clear. She unzips my fly slow as a strip tease, and that’s when the shadow of a smile flickers across her face – a brief split second of something more, something to work with.

Jesus Christ, I’m holding my breath.

She knows what I’m thinking. She rises to full height and this time she doesn’t bother to hide the smile. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

“Thought you were s’pposed t’be lookin’ for contraband, p’tite,” I can't help but drawl. The comment wipes the smile from her lips and her gaze drops. She yanks open my fly and within a few short seconds she’s found the fob pocket hidden inside the waistband of my pants. Another split second later and she’s found the ring.

She turns and flashes it triumphantly at Marko.

“You made record time, Klein,” he observes approvingly, glancing up from his phone. “Twelve seconds. I’m impressed.”

Twelve seconds? I swear it coulda been a lifetime...

She throws the ring to her boss and I watch on, with a wistful sense of loss, as it arcs across the room and into his hand. Oh well. Next time, maybe.

“If you’re done, chere,” I pipe up behind her, “mebbe you could zip me up again? O’ course, if you ain’t, we can always take dis somewhere a li’l more private... ...”

I hadn’t exactly been expecting an answer, so I’m doubly taken off guard when she whips round and socks me hard with a fist to the face.

I totter a bit, tasting blood and seeing stars.

Damn, this woman packs a punch!

In the background, Marko’s laughing raucously.

“Looks like you chose the wrong woman t’ try and charm, yank.”

Seriously? Enough with the ‘yank’ thing already!

I grit my teeth and scowl as he continues:

“Zip ’im up, Klein. I can afford to be charitable to trespassers. I think we can let him leave here with his dignity, if not his life. He has taste after all. Me old ma’s engagement ring,” and he grins sardonically over at me, “is my favourite piece outta my entire collection.”

Klein obediently turns around and zips me up with more force than necessary. No more smiles and subtle flirtation. She doesn’t even look at me.

“Sentimental value,” Marko is saying, turning the ring between thumb and forefinger as he approaches me. “That’s what this ring has, Mr. Lord. Me old ma woulda been turnin’ in her grave if I lost it. Specially to some shitty low-feeder like you.”

I lick the blood from my lip slowly. Low-feeder, huh? This guy is really throwing out them punches tonight.

“Yeah, I getcha,” I retort with a sarcastic grin. “Momma woulda slapped ya t’ kingdom come if you ever messed wit’ her jewellery. Beat you wit’ a belt, prob’ly, told ya you were a good f’nothin’ piece o’ shit, I’m willin’ t’bet. Sure, I can read a mommy complex a mile away, homme, and you got it bad.”

I dunno what’s gotten inta me tonight. Or maybe I do. Frustration is a thing and a half. I'm fuckin’ wired, and I can’t stop running my damn mouth off. I ain’t usually this lippy. Honestly.

Anyways, I’m steeling myself for a beating from my End-of-Level-Boss, but surprisingly he don’t take the bait. Judging from his get-up, he’s ready for a night out, and he don’t want my blood soiling his purple Savile Row suit. Which is good for me, ‘cos the rings on his fingers look like they could double up for some pretty nasty knuckle dusters.

“I take it back,” he sneers down his nose at me. “This bloody yank don’t deserve jack.”

He sweeps away and grabs his jacket.

“You’ve been lookin’ t’prove yerself, ain’t’cha, Klein,” he throws over his shoulder at the woman still standing beside me. “Take care of Mr. Lord for me, and consider yerself one of the gang.” He walks over to a side table, pulls open a draw and takes out a gun. When he throws it to her, she catches it like she doesn’t even have to think about it. “Just make sure you keep some suitably gory keepsake for me to remember ’im by. I’m thinkin’ his teeth. He’s got them pearly whites you can only get in ’Murica. It'll remind me of ’is charmin’ smile.”

He laughs to himself, throws the ring up in the air, catches it, and deposits it into his pocket.

“Sorry, Mr. Lord,” he addresses me, “but I have places to go and people to kill. Don’t worry. Klein’ll entertain you in the playpen.” He waves absently at a door to the right. “I’m sure she’s just itchin’ to get her hands on you.”

He chuckles and heads for the door, followed by one of his henchmen, leaving with a final, gleeful, “So long!”

The door bangs shut and now it’s just me, Klein, and Henchman #1.

Wise strategy on Marko’s part, if Ms. Klein is basically untried and untested. I might break her little heart, and Henchman #1 might have to put me down instead.

I suppress a laugh at the thought.

Klein says nothing. She turns abruptly and sticks the barrel of the gun into the small of my back.

“Move,” she says. Her voice is deadpan – nothing to work with.

“Y’know, chere,” I venture conversationally, as I start shuffling over to the door, “I could speed up some if you’d jes’ untie these chains… Then we could get t’ playtime in the playpen a whole lot faster…”

“Hey, shut up will ya!” Henchmen #1 barks at me, punctuated by a sharp poke in the back by Klein’s gun. All right, all right, already. I get the message. They hustle me up to the door and next thing I know, I’m being shoved inside. Henchman #1 shuts the door behind me and I hear the locks thunk shut. Now it’s just me, and Klein.

It turns out the playpen could give H. H. Holmes’ hotel of horrors a run for its money. It’s a pokey little room, and someone’s done gone and painted the walls in a nice shade of red and crusty brown. Blood, gore and brain matter. The whole place stinks of death. Merde. The light-hearted mood I’ve managed to maintain so far immediately takes a dive.

“I take it housekeepin’ don't come round often,” I quip in an undertone – hardly as insolent as it could've been, but it earns me a kick up the ass anyway. I stagger forward under the momentum, turning to face my would-be executioner as I do so.

She has the gun pointed at me.

“Chere, I’d put my hands up if they weren’t tied behind my—”

The gun fires.

And the bullet hits the wall over my shoulder.

The crazy femme don’t give me a moment to recover.

In a flash she’s lowered the gun and is marching right over to me, grabbing the front of my shirt and jerking me down into a hungry kiss.

“It’s okay,” she whispers when she sees I’m too shocked to respond. “There aren’t any cameras in here.”

The words are barely out of her mouth and she’s kissing me again. This time I slip easily out of the chains that I’ve been working on ever since they were clapped on me, and as soon as they hit the ground, I let my palms slide up over her cheeks, pulling her closer, deeper into our kiss. Her fingers wind into my hair, tugging lightly; her body presses against mine, reminding me exactly what I’ve been without the past couple of months. I grab handfuls of her perfect ass and pull her in closer.

God, I’d fuck her right here, right now, if we weren’t in this shithole and this wasn’t a very important job.

We kiss until we have no air left to breathe.

“Lord, I’ve missed ya, Remy,” she murmurs against my lips.

“Mmm, not as much as I’ve missed you,” I answer sincerely, stealing another kiss before adding heatedly, “Eight whole weeks without you, chere... It’s enough t’ drive a man certifiably insane.”

She laughs, soft and sexy, her fingers combing lightly through my hair as she backs up a bit and regards me.

“Darlin’,” she murmurs with a smile, “you were the one who said no contact...”

“Didn’t wanna risk breakin’ your cover, Anna,” I reply, bridging the slight gap between us and feathering light kisses along her jawline. “Cain Marko’s gang don’t got a real nice reputation, sweet.”

“Pfft,” she scoffs. “I can handle myself.”

“For sure,” I agree. “But I’d prefer it if we didn’t tank this mission ‘cos we couldn’t keep our hands offa each other.”

She hums with vague agreement and runs her thumb across my bottom lip.

“Sorry about the fist to the face, babe,” she apologises. “Hope I didn’t hurt you too much."

“Peh.” I wave it off absently – I'd pretty much forgotten it already. “You do what you gotta. Speaking of...”

But she’s already way ahead of me, rooting around in her utility belt and taking out the small mem-chip case.

“Nice distraction, by the way,” she congratulates me wryly as she hands me the goods.

“Didja like it?” I ask her, pocketing the small case.

“In theory. Thought you had more style, though, Cajun. You managed to set off every alarm in the fucking building.”

“Heh. Just wanted to make sure you had enough time to pull the heist, cherie.”

She rolls her eyes expressively.

“You thought it was funny pissing everyone off, admit it. And what was all that business with the fob pocket?”

“Chere,” I answer with mock sincerity. “Eight weeks of celibacy and you think I’m gonna pass up the chance to have you feel me up? C’mon.”

The punch she lands on my bicep is enough to hurt.

“You are such a troll!” she shoots at me with more affection than ire, I’m happy to say.

“You love it,” I mutter, grabbing her helplessly and kissing her mouth soundly. We end up wasting a few more precious seconds making out again.

“So what we gonna do, huh?” I ask her once we break apart. “Henchman #1 is waitin’ outside, and I figure we could both take him out pretty easy...”

“Nuh-uh,” she cuts me off with a mischievous grin. “That’ll break our cover for sure. You, sweetheart, are taking the back door out.”

Her gaze slides over my shoulder, and when I look back, I see that the back door is actually a chute in the wall. From the amount of gore it’s covered in, it’s pretty obvious it's a disposal chute – for corpses.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me, p’tite,” I groan under my breath.

“Think of it as payback for kicking me down that garbage chute back at the Plaza hotel,” she banters back lightly, clearly enjoying this.

“Anna, after this, we’re even and then some,” I say dolefully.

“Yup,” she replies cheerfully. She swoops in for another quick kiss before saying: “I’ll be waiting for you by the East gate in about 30. Got some stuff to finish up here, otherwise they’ll get suspicious.”

“All right.” My response is half-hearted. I ain’t relishing goin’ down that chute, that’s for sure. Anna, however, is completely indifferent to my plight. She’s almost at the door already when I stop her.

“Uhh… Anna?”

She stops, turns.

“What?”

I point down at my chained-up ankles.

“Li’l help, please?”

She gives a theatrical sigh; but she comes back anyway, dropping to her knees and undoing the chains round my ankles.

“I’m pretty sure you could do this yourself faster than I ever could, Cajun,” she says pointedly, to which I shrug and reply:

“Sure. But havin’ you down on your knees in front of me brings back all sorts of happy mem’ries I’ve been denied the past couple of months.”

The chains clatter to the floor and she quirks an unimpressed look at me.

“Jesus. You’re puttin’ out more pheromones than a skunk puts out spray.”

“Chere, I been insulted ’nuff today, bein’ called a ‘yank’ an’ all. You reckon you could find an analogy a little more flatterin’ than a skunk?”

She gets to her feet and plants her hands on her hips.

“Swamp boy, there ain’t enough analogies in the world for the dirty things I wanna call you right now,” she declares in her gorgeously titillating and rarely-bestowed native Mississippi accent.

“Oooh,” I banter back. “Dirty, huh? Beb, when I get you home tonight, you can call me all the dirty things under the sun. I can’t wait.”

She chooses to ignore the statement, walking over to the chute instead and pulling it open. When she looks back at me, she’s smiling sweetly.

“Sugar, when we get home tonight, the first thing you’re gonna do is take a shower. Cos once you’ve gone down this here chute, you’re gonna be dirty as hell, and not in a good way.”

Trust her to kill the mood. I peer down the hole gingerly. The miasma wafting up from down below is worse than any skunk’s.

“Chere, you wanna rethink this? Only I get the feelin’ one shower ain’t gon’ be enough t’ get the stench out...”

“Quit being such a baby!” She’s smiling way too hard for my liking at this point. “The sooner you get this over with, the sooner we can wrap up this job.”

I step reluctantly up to the edge of the hole, and she leans in over my shoulder, murmurs in my ear: “And the sooner I can get my hands on you again.” She lets that suggestion linger. And, Dieu, does it linger.

“Now buckle up and hold onto the railings,” she warns me.

“What railings?” I manage to get out, before her boot heel connects with my ass, and I’m suddenly tumbling through the filth and mire down, down into the depths of the Marko mansion.

-oOo-

[Chapter 2 now here!]

#rogue/gambitweek2020 #rogue/remyweek2020 #Romy fanfic #Romy #Rogue #Gambit #Rogue and Gambit #52 Pickup #crazy 8's #crazy eights

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justjessame · 4 years ago

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If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 6

I woke sandwiched between two literally hot Irishmen. Murphy, still as naked as me, had turned onto his left side and had us pressed chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. My head was cushioned on his upper arm and his hand curled around to rest on my shoulder. Connor, curved into my naked back, had clearly stripped to his boxers while I slept since I could feel his naked chest hot against my back. His left hand held my hip, and while the sun still hadn’t risen yet, I could feel at least one part of him and his brother that had.

The light from the streetlamps allowed me to study Murphy in his sleep. I fought against the urge to touch the sweetness of his sleeping face. So innocent in rest, almost childlike. I bit my lip, drinking him in, when I felt Connor’s lips on my shoulder. A kiss, a flick of his hot tongue against my skin, and I pressed back against him.

“Yer awake?” He breathed against me. I gave a small nod, not wanting to disturb Murphy. “Come ‘ere,” he ordered, still just as quiet. I was afraid to move, afraid of waking Murphy. “‘E sleeps like da dead.” He chuckled, rolling me over to his side of the bed as he sat up on his knees. “Tink it’s my tern now.”

I was on my back, looking up at him in the soft glow of the dim light. Saints, I realized, seeing the halo of light making him almost glow incandescently. I barely had the time to think about it, because he lowered himself and claimed my mouth. My hands moved to touch him. His shoulders, his arms, down his back, I lost myself in him, his kiss and his skin.

“Ya, ready for me, Tess?” He breathed against my lips. I swallowed and nodded. I felt him shove his underwear down and then we were joined. I arched up into him and he moaned. “Yer killin’ me, Tessa.”

He managed to roll us over and keep us linked. I sat up, my hands pressing into his abdomen, and rolled my hips. I gasped at the feeling, my eyes closing. I felt his rough hands move from my hips, along my sides until they finally reached my breasts.

“Murphy was right. Yer fuckin’ beautiful.” He snapped his hips up, thrusting into me hard. “Ye like dat, don ya?” He set a maddening pace, hard, deep, and fast. “Nah gonna make yer beg, nah dis time a’ leas’.” He kept thrusting, and talking, good Lord could the mouth on him. “Gonna give ya exactly wha ya need.”

“Yes,” I managed to hiss, as I rode him while he kept that wonderful pace.

“Take ‘is ‘and, Tess.” He ordered, knowing I needed the touch of them both. “Take it.” He urged. And I managed to finally lean forward and find Murphy’s hand.

“Oh,” I moaned as my first orgasm rushed through me. “Don’t stop, Connor, don’t fucking stop!” I begged, as though he needed my pleas. He kept pounding up into me. My forehead found his and we stared into one another’s eyes as his rough thumb found my clit and I came undone again.

“Dat’s right,” he groaned, thrusting harder as his own orgasm roared out of him. He moaned, moving to hold my head in place. We were panting as he started to soften inside me. I fell forward, weak, my face pressed against Mother Mary. Catching our breath, letting our heartbeats calm, he held me and I felt him kiss my temple.

I chuckled and released my tight grip on Murphy’s hand, even though he didn’t seem to notice. Still sleeping peacefully, Jesus, I wondered how he managed to ignore the bed movement and our noises. Connor asked what was funny and I answered. “We never seem to get around to foreplay, do we?”

I felt the rumble of his own laughter. “Bein’ round ya is foreplay for us.” He gave a soft chuckle into my hair. “We’d probably die if we tried it, from scratch.” I rolled off him, curling my backside against Murphy and facing him when he turned. “Gonna ‘afta wake ‘im.” He sighed. “Need ta shower and get ta Mass.”

A lightbulb went off in my head. “That’s where you two ran off to yesterday.” It was a statement, but he nodded. “There’s a spare key for the door in the first drawer you come to in the kitchen.” I whispered, cupping him behind his head. “Take it, please, that way you don’t get the police called on you for breaking OUT of my apartment.” He smiled, and leaned forward to kiss me.

“Ya worried ‘bout us?” He asked, his lips still against mine. “We worry ‘bout ya, too.” He pulled away and I saw the same affection I’d seen in Murphy the night before. “If somethin’ happens to us,” he started and I opened my mouth to argue. “Stop, Tess, let me finish. IF somethin’ happens, we’re gonna leave ya wit our mudder’s number and address. Get ter ‘er? Please? Yer ours, an’ we wan’ ya ta be safe.”

I felt fear clutch my heart. They hadn’t come here to fall in love with me. They’d come for business. A horrible joke that I now knew. I realized that this was their way of making sure it didn’t touch me. Giving me their mother’s information, giving me someone to talk to just in case. I nodded, but felt my face fall at the thought of losing them, either of them or both. It would wreck me.

“Now, luv, don borrow trouble.” Connor warned, kissing me again. “We been fine dis long.” I shook my head. “Dos scars? Does it look like dey stopped us?”

“No, but,” I began, and his finger pressed against my lips to stop me again.

“Don do dat.” He whispered, and I realized he was convincing himself as much as me. “Jus let us luv ya. We’ll keep ya free of da stain o’ wha we do.” His eyes looked so pained, that I relented.

“Leave her information near the phone in the living room.” I whispered, feeling Murphy’s hand moving my hair out of his way so he could kiss my shoulder. “I’ll use it if I have to.” I smiled and pressed back against Murphy. “Thought he was going to have to wake you.” I whispered and felt his lips curl against my skin.

“Got too tense in ‘ere.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses along my back. “Woke up ‘cause Connor ‘s so worried dat I felt it inside.” I nodded. “Glad ‘e ‘ad the conversation, usually ‘e’s too cocky fer ‘is own good.”

I sighed, feeling peaceful despite the worry that was flowing around the three of us. I wouldn’t borrow trouble. I couldn’t let it overwhelm me. And I couldn’t have them worry about me and get hurt. As the sun rose, and Connor went off to shower, I rolled over to kiss Murphy. I would take every moment I had with the two of them and cherish them.

#Connor MacManus X OFC X Murphy MacManus #Boondock Saints 2 #alternative universe #Smut #no twincest

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vintagevalentinex · 5 years ago

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Yes

So this is my Galentine’s Day Fic!!

This fic is for @sometimes-iwritee so I hope she likes it! :)

This is the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I’m still trying to figure out how I pulled that off. I used the song At Last by Etta James as inspiration. Listen to it here!

Admittedly, I’m a little nervous because this fic is pretty long and I’ve never written anything on this scale. Please let me know what you think!!

Tagging all the Galentine’s Day Ladies!

@kittenofdoomage @ilostmyshoe-79 @bovaria @sometimes-iwritee @unadulteratedstorycollector @winchester-writes @spnashley @icecream-and-winchesters @stephizzle94 @pada-ackles @charliesbackbitches @oriona75 @jensennjared @bkwrm523 @castielspahdehrah @crowlorevstiel @latinenglishfandomblog @manawhaat @balthazars-muse @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @leviathanslovedick @ruby-loves-supernatural @lovemydean-o-saur @ladyfae @vintagevalentinexx @deans-colette @takeitoffwinchester @mysupernaturalfics @abaddonwithyall @timewasrunningout @blushingsamgirl

@theerinpage @aprofoundbondwithdean @spnfanficpond @ohfora67impala @castihelloboys @maraisabellegrey

Title: Yes Author: vintagevalentinex Words: ~4450 (What even.) Pairing: (Benny x Reader) Warnings: Fluff and filth. Flifth? Unprotected sex.

It was the same every year.

It seemed like all the witches came out of the woodwork every single year around Valentine’s Day. There were always dumb suckers who were desperate to have someone to call their own, and would do anything to be with someone. That’s where you came in. You always found yourself hunting witches, and if there was one thing that really pissed you off, it was witches. They are the worst. You definitely weren’t going to call the Winchesters in on this one. They were the absolute worst dealing with witches. You rolled your eyes just thinking about it as you sat in yet another dive bar, wishing you were back in Louisiana. Never thought I’d say that… You had reason to long for that balmy, humid, hot as hell state. That reason being your burly, bearded, bear-of-a-man who loved you so dearly. It was hard going on hunts that were so far away when you knew that Benny was waiting on you back home, your home that you shared with him. Valentine’s Day was never a big deal for you, seeing as you never had anyone to share it with, but this year was different. This would have been the first Valentine’s Day that you would have someone to be lovey-dovey with, and you could actually be one of those couples you made fun of on the day-at-hand. Who knows? Maybe I’ll actually be able to get back there by the 14th. You swirled around the whiskey in your glass as you looked at the drunken antics of the people in the bar when you felt your phone vibrating. You smiled as you saw the picture on the screen, Benny in his apron, smiling behind the counter of his little diner.

“Hello sweetheart.”

“Mmm…well in’ dat’ da mos’ beautiful voice in the whole world.”

You grinned to yourself, shaking your head. “You miss me that much, huh Benny?”

“Course I do, (Y/N). nothin’ pretty ta look at when yer gone.”

“Is that the only reason you miss me?”

“Naw, shug. The bed’s been real cold at night…”

You roll your eyes, chewing on your bottom lip. It was crazy how just hearing his voice could turn your entire mood around. You could hear him chuckling on the other end.

“I miss you, Benny.”

“Miss ya too, darlin’. Can’t wait ‘till ya get home. Would tha’ be anytime soon?”

“I’m trying, baby. These damn witches are so annoying.”

“Need me ta come help, shug?”

“I should be fine. I’ll let you know.”

“Well…I hope ya can make it home for Valentine’s Day. Sure would be nice to spend it with ya.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Love you, darlin’. Stay safe, and I wouldn’t be too offended if you so decided to send me some pictures…”

You laughed loudly, almost catching too much attention in the bar. “In your dreams, lover boy.”

You hit “end” on your phone, downing the rest of your drink so you could head back to the motel. You needed to gank these witches pronto.

You were covered in blood, dirt, sweat, and mystery goo, but you were finally able to take out that damn coven. You were lucky that they were mostly amateurs; you weren’t sure if you would have been able to take down a full coven of witches that were more skilled. You were driving at high speed down the interstate, wanting nothing but your face meeting the pillows of your bed. You pulled your phone off the charger, calling the only person you wanted to speak to at the moment.

“Mmm…cher…imagine mah surprise when I look at mah phone an see yer purdy face on the screen…”

“Yeah, yeah…totally not in the mood right now…”

“What’s wrong, cher? Hunt not shapin’ up how ya like…?”

“No…it’s…I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’m on my way back, actually. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Oh ‘lil darlin’ I knew ya loved me! I jus’ knew it! So yer not stayin’ in a motel tonight? Might be easier for ya to drive when you’ve had a few hours a’ shut eye.”

“I’m fine. Sounds like you don’t love me at all, not wanting me home and everything…”

“S’not it, shug. Jus’ don’t wanna hafta scrape yer hide off the highway…”

You chuckled into the phone, the gravelly warmth of Benny’s voice lightening your mood. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I can’t wait to see you, Benny. I should be home soon.”

“I miss ya too, cher. Can’t wait ta have ya in my arms…now I noticed tha’ ya didn’t send me any of those pictures we were talkin’ ‘bout…”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you focused on the road. “You’re an idiot. I’ll talk to you later.”

You smiled to yourself as you heard the familiar crunching of the gravel underneath your tires as your car arrived to the front of the diner that you helped Benny run. You drove through the night, wanting to desperately get home to the cozy little apartment at the back of the diner. The bed and Netflix was calling your name as soon as you took the hottest shower known to man. After all of that you knew that your burly vampire would be ready to cuddle down with you under the warm blankets of your bed. You pulled your gear from the car, your clothes wrecked to hell with all kinds of mess as you approached the door, to find a sign in the window.

Closed for Valentine’s Day. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Your eyebrows furrowed. Hmm…I can’t remember the last time Benny closed for something like this. Wait, is today Valentine’s Day? You pulled your phone out of your pocket, checking the date on the phone. Well damn…it is. I wonder what he’s up to. You fished your keys out, opening the door to the diner, seemingly quiet. You figured Benny would at least be washing dishes or something. Come to think of it, his truck wasn’t around… You dialed.

“Ah hope it’s safe to assume yer home, shug…”

“And I’m pretty damn sure it’s safe to assume you’re nowhere to be found? Seriously, Benny?”

He chuckled. “Aw cher don’ be like dat. It is Valentine’s Day after all…”

You huffed. “So…what? My present for today is not having to see you…?”

“Awww shug, don’ do me like dat. Here ah am, tryin’ ta be romantic an’ everythin’…”

“Mmhmm…so…are you planning on coming back tonight…?”

He chucked again. “Well…not exactly…you’ll see…why don’t ya go take a nice, long bath. You deserve it, darlin’.”

Well that’s not a terrible idea, actually. “Alright. For once you’re actually making sense—“

“Darlin’!”

“Alright, alright!” You nearly pouted into the phone. “Will I see you soon, Benny? I’ve missed you so much, and knowing you’re not here makes the entire place seem so lonely.”

“You’ll find me soon ‘nuff, lil’ baby. Now go on an’ relax.“

You grumble as you throw your things down in the main room of your apartment, ready to take a hot shower and pout in bed until Benny decided to show his face. You strip off your clothes, leaving them in a pool on the floor as you pad toward the bathroom, confused as you see the closed door. That’s weird…we never keep this door closed. Hunter reflexes kicking in, you brace your hand on the knob. Great…I come home from killing fucking witches, and now I have to fight naked. What a time to be alive.

Ready to take out whatever is behind the door, you rip it open to find…

Really…? Is he serious? You huff as you shuffle into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, your face softening as you note the petal floating on the surface of the water, sweet smelling lavender and citrus wafting up from the tub. You stepped carefully into the large tub, sinking down low, the water all the way up to your chin. Scanning the room, you realized you didn’t see the back of the door. A beautiful, red, lacy dress hung there.

Even if he is a big oaf, he does have impeccable taste.

Smiling to yourself, you soaked in the water, dipping your toes in and out of tub, enjoying the slow, relaxing pace of being able to just soak. This was usually not a luxury granted to hunters and the lifestyle, so you were definitely going to take advantage. Benny tried to make life here as normal for the both of you as he could, but he could only do so much. How normal could our life be? I’m basically Buffy, and he’s Angel…Spike…?….Angel…? Hell, I don’t know! After soaking in the tub until your fingers got pruney, you carefully stepped out, sore muscles completely soothed and relaxed as you wrapped a big fluffy towel around your body. You grabbed the dress off the door and headed back to the bedroom. I guess I’m supposed to put this on…

You laid the dress on the freshly made bed. He made the bed? What the hell is going on? Slipping into the closet, you pull out a pair of black patent leather pumps. Setting them aside, you change your undergarments, slipping into the set you bought specifically for tonight. At least he’s not the only one with surprises.

Removing the dress from the velvet hanger, you see a note pinned on the inside. Carefully unpinning the note, you hold it up as you read:

I’m glad you were able to relax. Meet me out back so I can hold you close. Xoxo

Smirking, you roll your eyes as you slip on the dress that fit you perfect. I’m going to pretend that’s not creepy. Slipping on your shoes you clicked through the apartment to the back door, the weather perfect enough to leave your jacket behind. Opening the back door you were greeted with the loveliest sight.

Flower petals created a trail that lead back into the woods behind your place. You smiled genuinely as you followed the path into the woods, small little tea lights shaped like hearts lit your way as you traveled deeper into the trees.

After about a peaceful five minute walk, you came into a clearing. You gasped as you saw what was in front of you, a grin etched on your face.

The most beautiful tent…fort…you didn’t know what to call it, but it was lined with flower petals and fairy lights. The lights even twinkled in the trees.

As you stepped closer, you could hear one of your favorite songs playing. When the hell did he have time to do this?

At last my love has come along My lonely days are over and life is like a song, oh yeah

You called out to him. “Benny?! Benny are you there?!” You stepped closer, the smile lingering on your lips as you continued to take in the beautiful scene in front of you. You were so enthralled that you didn’t notice a pair of thick, muscled arms wrap around your middle until it was too late. The stranger paced his head on your shoulder, whispering in your ear.

“Hello, shug. I do good?”

You turned around in his grasp, your hands pressed against his chest. You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, smiling as you murmured against him, his beard tickling you.

“This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me, Benny. I love you so much.” You hugged him tightly, pouting when he put you at arm’s length.

“Lemme get a good look at ya, darlin’. Been missin’ ya somethin’ terrible.” He takes your hand, twirling you around, taking in your form. He yanks on your hand, your body slamming against his burly chest. Chuckling, he links your arm through his as he leads you over to the makeshift fort, plush blankets and pillows all over the area. The both of you take a seat inside, kicking off your shoes as you scoot closer to him. You breathe him in, something spicy and woodsy as you link your fingers together, seeing the multitude of stars sparkling over your apartment.

“Benny, I can’t think of anything more perfect than this…thank you.” You smiled up at him, giggling as he brushed your knuckles across his lips, his eyes twinkling the way they did when he was amused.

“Ain’t no thing, cher. But the night ain’t over…”

He got up, leaving you there to rearrange the pillows as you heard him shuffling around somewhere behind the fort. He comes back around, with a bottle of champagne and some fruit to nibble on for you. You look inquisitively up at him, his smile only growing.

“Ah ate before. Wanted ta focus on you tonight, darlin’.”

You smiled shyly as he sat back down next to you, pouring the both of you very full glasses of champagne. You sipped slowly as you leaned against his sturdy frame, letting him feed you strawberries and grapes, his fingers lingering at your lips every so often.

At last the skies above are blue My heart was wrapped up clover the night I looked at you

You hummed contentedly, wanting to remain in this moment for the rest of your life as you smiled up at the man you loved. You never thought you could be with someone as caring, loyal, and kind as Benny. The men on the road were merely there one day and gone the next, but when you met Benny, your entire world changed. He was the only one you saw and wanted to see. You knew your relationship was…complicated…but that wouldn’t stop you from loving him. And you knew he felt the same way about you.

The champagne and strawberries were soon forgotten as Benny bent down, pressing his lips to yours once again, his hands going into your hair as he pulled you closer, your dress hiking up as you straddle his lap, hissing as you feel his bulge grinding against your thin panties. You finally muster enough courage to open your eyes, seeing his staring intently down at you. His voice was strangled, as if trying to choose between two choices in his mind.

“(Y/N)…’dis isn’t the way I planned this evenin’…”

You smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes, hands running up and down his chest. “And just how did you want this evening to go, Benny?”

He hesitated a moment before pulling you (begrudgingly) off of his lap and bringing you to his side to star gaze once again. Pulling you close, you snuggled into his side as he slung an arm around you. He cleared his throat and shifted a little before he started to speak.

“Darlin’…I know I tell ya I love you all the time, but I don’t think I’ve ever really went into it. I was a broken man when ya met me. Hell, I’ve been broken for a long time. I was in the worst way, and I was on a one way track to completely destroying myself. I thought I had nothin’ in this worl’ to keep me goin’. I didn’t belong. I didn’t belong with my own kind or with anyone else.—“

You try to interject but he just continues. “And then, by the grace o’ God, or whoever is runnin’ that place now, I met you. You. You are everythin’ in this world that is good, that is kind. You are everythin’ that should be treasured and protected. I can never thank you enough for lettin’ me be the luckiest man in the universe for being able to hold onto your heart. I love the way you smile at me, the way you yell at me when I’m actin’ like a plain fool, the way ya fight, the way ya comfort me, hell, even the way your hair makes me suffocate every damn mornin’.” He chuckles. “But mostly…I love the way you make me feel like I could be better, that I could be a better man, that I could do good things in this worl’.”

He took a deep breath, staring tenderly at you as he pulls something out of his pocket, making both of you sit up, face to face.

“Would you do me the honor of being able to hold onto your heart for the rest of our lives, (Y/N)? Will ya marry me?” He showed you the ring, pressed between his fingers.

You stared in shock for a moment before your eyes finally made their way back to his nervous ones, your own glimmering with tears as you nearly tackle him making the both of you crash to the ground as you pepper kisses all over his face, leaving red lipstick marks all over his cheeks and forehead. He chuckles, holding you by the shoulders.

“I take that as a ‘yes’, shug?”

You grin, letting him slip the ring onto your finger. “Of course it’s a yes! I…I don’t even know what to say! I’m so damn happy right now!”

I found a dream that I could speak to A dream that I can call my own

He laughed, rolling the both of you over, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, your dress hiking up around your hips as you lie on your back. Benny wedges himself in between your legs, your dress hiking up even higher as he grinds himself against you, the heat from his body penetrating your flesh, your hands gripping at his back, pulling on his shirt. He chuckles at you as you wantonly pull at his shirt, getting it up and over his head, taking it from you as he tosses it somewhere out of the way. He pulls your thighs up around his waist, pulling you up into a sitting position, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kisses you again, his hands tracing the zipper running along your spine. You grind yourself into him as he unzips your dress, making you lift your arms up momentarily to pull the dress off of you. He throws your dress (hopefully to the same place he threw his shirt as he lays you back down, nearly growling as he takes in your red bra and panties.

“Mmm…well look at ya, cher…all dressed up fer me.”

You could feel yourself blushing as he bent down, nuzzling at the valley between your breasts, his fingers finding the clasp at the back as he rubbed his beard against you, humming into your skin. Your hips arched up, trying to gain some kind of friction. You could feel him smiling against your breasts as he finally pulled the straps of your bra down, pulling it slowly off of your body as he began to tease you with soft kisses and licks, not stopping until every last inch of your breasts were tended to by his soft lips. His eyes locked onto yours as he leisurely took a taut nipple into his mouth, suckling, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. You nearly hiss, your back arching from the ground as your hips continue to buck up against him, your hands finding their way into his hair, tugging gently as he switches, giving the other nipple its desperately needed attention. Your eyes snap shut as you just feel, shivering as his lips begin to travel lower, pressing kisses into your tummy and teasing your belly button.

You whimper, your hands finally finding his. “Benny…please…now baby, please now…”

All you got back was a smirk. He went lower, still holding your hands as he pressed his nose against your panties, breathing in deeply, groaning as his eyes darted up to yours. “Mmm ah know what ya need, darlin’, but I’m not done with you yet. Be good for me ‘lil baby.”

He presses hot, wet kisses against your inner thighs, the muscles twitching and straining to not squeeze his head off as his beard rubs against the sensitive skin. He lets go of your hands to hook his fingers into your panties, grunting as he slips them over your hips and off of you. He sits up on his knees, his hands on the outside of your thighs as he scoops your lower half up, moving his hands to your ass as he pulls your hips up to his mouth, forcing you to grip at the sheets and pillows on the ground. He smiled, diving face first into your pussy, nearly attacking it with his mouth. His tongue teased open your folds, mouthing at them, rubbing them between his lips, letting them go with a loud, wet, “pop” as his tongue circled your hole. You turned your head, biting at your finger as you wriggled against him, his strong arms keeping you immobile, and in the position you were in, there was nothing you could do but take the sweet pleasure he was giving you. His lips moved languidly to your clit, wrapping around it and suckling, pulling it into his mouth as you whined with pleasure, your mouth hanging open as he continued to slurp and lap at your pussy. You could feel yourself clenching tightly, wanting him in you so desperately as you began to see white spots before your eyes. At first you thought it was the stars or the fairy lights, but they began to get brighter and brighter until it was just all white light as you screamed out his name, falling completely over the edge, his tongue continuing to work in you as you rode out your orgasm. He gently set your legs back down onto the ground, his hips still nudged between yours as your eyes began to refocus, his smiling doting face looking down on you as he wiped some of your slick from his beard.

I found a thrill to press my cheek to A thrill I’ve never known, oh yeah

“Y’alright, darlin’?”

All you could do is nod and smile dopily at him. You heard him chuckle as he stood up, eyeing your body. He began to whistle as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling his underwear down with them, his erection already dripping with precum, pressed against his belly as he slowly sinks back down onto his knees, falling over you, his hands planted on either side of your head as he takes your lips into another searing kiss, groaning as you taste yourself on him. You hook your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you, your heels digging into his muscled ass as you urge him on, feeling his cockhead rubbing against your swollen clit. With one hand, he guides himself slowly into you, inch by agonizing inch. By the time he is completely inside of you, you are a trembling, crying mess, your hands raking down his arms and back, clawing at him as he remains unmoving inside of you, bending down to whisper against your lips, “I love you, (Y/N). And I know I asked ya already, and I know ya said yes already, but I need to ask again. Will ya marry me, darlin’?”

You couldn’t believe he was trying to ask you questions right now. You practically screamed. “Yes! Benny, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Please…I need you right now!!”

He grunted against your mouth, as he began to move his hips, starting out hard and slow, deliberate, hard strokes into your pussy, making your body lurch backward over and over again as he took his time. You could feel him, throbbing and hot inside of you, your walls already clenching and clamping around him, already needy for him to spill inside of you. Your heels dug harder into his ass as he began to pick up the pace, the sound of his skin slapping against your began to grow louder, the delicious friction of your bodies writhing against each other was heating you up, your brow glistened with sweat, almost glittering in the moonlight as your hands find his face, pulling him down to make his lips crash to yours, kissing him hard as he picks up the pace, slamming into your body now, his hands underneath you, palms against your shoulder blades as he holds you close, driving into you as hard and has fast as he can, now grunting into your ear. Your walls flutter around him as you cannot hold back any longer and cry out his name as you begin to come, feeling him pump into you roughly a few more times before he groans out your name, spilling into you. He takes your hands into his own, pressing his forehead to yours as you both remain connected, panting heavily as you just stare at each other.

You smiled, you smiled oh and then the spell was cast And here we are in Heaven

Your stares soon turn into lazy smiles as Benny finally pulls out of you, flopping over onto his back. He pulled you into his side, and you happily snuggled into him. Your legs tangled, your hand tracing lazy circles into his chest as he rumbled low with satisfaction. He dipped his head to press a kiss to your temple, a hand finding purchase in your hair, rubbing at your scalp, feeling a chuckle rumble from his chest as you mew softly at his ministrations. He spoke softly, as to not break the spell of the moment.

“I had nothin’ ‘till I met you, (Y/N). And now…now I have everythin’ because I have you. Will you—“

You slipped your hand over his mouth, giggling softly, already knowing what he was going to say.

“Benny. I’ve said it several times now. I can’t wait to spend forever with you, no matter what. No matter what comes our way, through anything…I want to be with you.”

You slithered up to press a kiss to his mouth before he could speak again. You mumbled against his mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…” chanting that one simple word as if it were a prayer until you fell asleep. Benny laced his fingers with yours, his eyes unable to stop looking at the ring on your finger. He covered the both of you with a sheet, keeping you warm, looking forward to waking up with you in the morning.

He was no longer a broken man, for where he had cracks and holes, your love now filled the spaces. And he had your heart to cherish and protect.

For you are mine at last.

#spn #benny lafitte #benny lafitte x reader #benny lafitte/reader #repost #new blog #my vampirate

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