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washoping · 1 month

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But the scars still linger

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Emily Prentiss x reader

summary: After taking it slow you and Emily are about to have sex for the first time but revealing all of you, including your self-harm scars that were the reason for taking things slow in the first place, turns out to be more panic-inducing than you expected. Luckily Emily is right there to show you how worthy you are.

tags: 18+, fluff and smut, comfort, talk about self-harm, scars, insecurities, panic attacks and mental health struggles in general, body worship, sex

f/f │ 5.2k words │ ao3

a/n: this has been up on my ao3 already but thought i’d post my writing here as well. writing these is like therapy to me but i wanted to share in case they could bring comfort to other people as well. all typos and mistakes are mine, english isn’t my first language. feel free to send requests, i'd love to write more <3

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Emily’s kisses had this strange effect on you. Every time you two kissed since you started dating you felt like all of your worries disappeared the moment Emily’s lips touched yours. She made you feel safer than anyone else before. You had showed her more of your soul than any other person had ever seen and she wasn’t scared of what she had discovered. If anything, it was the total opposite - she was there for you and you couldn’t help but think you didn’t deserve her.

You had talked about your past, about what you’d been through in your life before her. You hadn’t shared even half of that stuff before. Emily knew of the darkness you could easily start slipping into when things got rough but she was right there by your side, ready to catch you before you started to slip. She knew of your struggles with your mental health and you two had made a pact to take things slow. It took you a while to trust people but trusting Emily had been easier than you thought. She made it easy.

You admired Emily’s patience, having very little of it yourself. She had told you multiple times that she would wait for you forever because ”you were worth it”, but you found that hard to believe. You didn’t feel worthy.

That’s why it was so difficult for you to believe that this moment right now was happening. You had never felt this close to anyone before - in fact you had never let anyone this close prior to this. Being this vulnerable was new to you but you knew you’d do anything for Emily.

Emily was kissing you, making your poor heart pound loudly in your chest as if its' only task was to remind you of all the anxiety bubbling inside of you instead of excitement. Emily’s lips were on yours but they weren’t having their usual effect of forgetting about the world on you because you had gone further than before.

Your kisses were more passionate than before now, initiated by you. Emily had sensed it and her hands were travelling all over your clothed body, stroking your upper arms, your sides, your back. Her touch sent shivers down your spine. You found the growing passion between you two thrilling but also terrifying at the same time. When it came to letting people close to you it wasn’t only the mental part of it that you hadn’t done. You had also never let anyone physically this close.

As your kisses got hungrier and hungrier you started to struggle with staying present. Your mind started racing, feeding you all kinds of insecurities to dwell on. Stupid mind.

Emily’s fingers trailed down from your shoulders to your upper arms, then further down your arms. It felt like they left a trail of fire in their wake as they went. You pulled away from the kiss and found yourself unwillingly holding your breath when Emily’s fingers came to your wrists. Her fingers and your skin had the fabric of your long sleeve shirt between them, but it might as well have been nothing because as soon as you felt her touch on your wrist, you flinched in panic and pulled your arm to your side.

No, no, no. You blamed yourself for forgetting about the mess of a person you were for a while and letting things get this far. Damn Emily and her kisses that made you lose all common sense. You felt bad for her, for having to deal with someone like you.

You looked into her eyes, finding hers looking at you with confusion and concern. She was so beautiful. People like you were never meant to be with people like her. She was way too good. You weren’t worthy. Of anyone, you thought, but especially of someone like Emily.

”Hey… what is it?” she asked softly with such understanding you couldn’t fathom it. Her voice was like a soothing balm to your anxiety that was filling your body, making you freeze in spot.

Your throat was suddenly dry and you couldn’t think of what to say. You swallowed hard, trying to come up with something that would make this moment pass quicker.

”It’s nothing”, you lied and hoped Emily would let it go, but it was a stupid thing to do because deep down you knew she would see right through you right away. She profiled people for a living after all. There had also been numerous times that you had been surprised of how it seemed like she knew you better than you knew yourself.

You looked away, trying to escape Emily’s eyes. You couldn’t face the kindness in them. You felt like you didn’t deserve to be treated with kindness after hiding something like this from her for so long. You didn’t even know how you had managed to hide it for so long, but it didn’t matter anymore because you felt Emily’s fingers gently lifting your chin, forcing you to look at her.

”Hey, I can see it’s not nothing”, she whispered, seeing right through you. ”Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words made tears well up in your eyes. It was like the weight of your secret was pressing down on your lungs, making it impossible for you to take a deep breath in to calm yourself the way you wanted to. You nodded, still trying your best to hide your panicking.

”Promise not to judge me, Emily…” you said quietly, not really sure if you meant to even say it out loud but Emily had clearly heard it because her brows furrowed in concern as she nodded quickly.

”I would never judge you”, she reassured you.

Without saying anything else you started rolling your sleeves up slowly, revealing the faded scars starting from your wrist, travelling up your arm. You had no idea how you had managed to hide this part of yourself from Emily for all this time you had been together. Long sleeves - obviously. But when she had stroked your arms to show you affection, or touched your thigh to comfort you in a crowded place, or when her leg had brushed against your ankle when cuddling… you had managed to ignore it and hiding had gone well until tonight. Tonight it had ended up being too much.

The room seemed to grow quieter and the air heavier, making it even more difficult for you to breathe properly as Emily took in the sight in front of her. You had never enjoyed complete silence because it made your anxious mind race but bearing this silence was on a whole another level. When you finally dared to look at Emily the look on her face broke your heart.

The silence continued as you watched her reaching out, her touch being feather-light as she traced along the white lines on your skin, some raised, some not. You almost couldn’t take it.

You hated them. Your scars. You had been clean for a good while now and harming yourself, at least the way you had done before, wasn’t a thought that crossed your mind as easily anymore. But back then it had been your primary coping mechanism, a really bad one - you were aware of that. You were prone to having coping mechanisms that in the end didn’t help you cope, but actually made things worse. Cutting had been the worst one.

It would’ve been easier to forget about that horrible phase of your life even existing if there weren’t these neatly placed scars on your left wrist, your upper thighs and ankles, reminding you of how badly you had once wanted to leave this place.

And now you were looking at the one thing in this place that made you want to stay, and seeing her looking at your scars felt worse than any of the pain you had ever inflicted on yourself. This was worse than any of it.

”Why didn’t you tell me before?” Emily finally asked, her voice breaking slightly as she looked up at you.

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to hold back the tears in the corners of your eyes. You felt so exposed, showing these parts of yourself to another human for the first time ever.

”I was scared. I didn’t want you to think less of me. To doubt my sanity or abilities or anything like that”, you explained, voicing out your fears to Emily. She nodded, understanding what you meant right away. You noticed her eyes filling with tears just like yours the moment they met yours and it stung your heart to see it happen because of something you did. ”And I already have a hard time looking at myself… my scars, my body in general. I…” you continued but Emily interrupted you.

”C’mere”, she mumbled and gently pulled your arm to bring you closer to her. She wrapped her arms around you, enclosing you into a tight embrace that brought you more comfort than you dared to even admit to yourself. You needed this. You were against her chest and she stroked your back gently, making you feel so appreciated and loved.

”I would never judge you, I hope I can make you believe that somehow”, she whispered while hugging you. Her hand was stroking your back soothingly, a gesture that told you everything was going to be okay. ”I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that alone. But I’m here now and you don’t have to face it alone anymore, if you just let me be there for you. I want to be.”

In Emily’s arms everything felt okay. Her words felt like a warm blanket wrapped around you, but doubt still gnawed at your heart, your past experiences hanging around you like ghosts.

”Why are you so kind to me, Emily?” you whispered, your voice barely audible because half of your words were muted by Emily’s shirt you were pressed against. ”Why would you want to be with someone like me? I’m… I’m broken, Em. I don’t deserve you.”

Emily broke your embrace for a bit to pull back slightly. She wanted to do it to look into your eyes, but her hands still stayed on your shoulders because she knew you’d appreciate the contact. When your eyes met you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You felt them falling from your eyes and Emily wiped them away immediately, not wasting a second letting the tears stain your cheeks.

”Don’t you dare say that”, she said, her voice firm but only because of how much she cared. ”You’re not broken. You’ve been hurt, yes, but you’re so strong and beautiful and incredibly deserving of love. We’re all broken. We all have scars. We all have stuff we’ve went through and survived and it doesn’t make us any less capable or worthy. And you, my love… you deserve so much, baby.”

Emily’s words hit you hard. Looking into her eyes as she told you all of that made you realize you had never heard words like hers from anyone else in your life before this. You shook your head, your tears flowing freely now.

”It’s just so hard to believe that”, you admitted, your voice cracking. You looked at Emily who was fighting back tears. ”I’ve felt worthless for so long.”

Emily cupped your face in her hands, both of her thumbs gently wiping away your tears.

”I know it’s hard”, she said so extremely softly. ”But I’ll be here, every step of the way. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You tried to nod and take a deep breath but it came out shaky and uneven. You were trembling.

”Emily, I… I feel like I’m about to fall apart”, you managed to admit before trying to take another deep breath and failing again. Your chest started to tighten with the familiar sensation of a panic attack that was about to hit you. ”I’m scared”, you whispered through your tears.

Emily’s hold on you tightened and she reminded you of her presence by stroking your upper arms. She walked you to the bed, trying her best to ground you. She knew your bed was where you felt the safest, it was your comfort place. She guided you there and sat you down, kneeling on the floor in front of you. Her hands were stroking your thighs up and down, her touch a reminder that you were here.

”Breathe with me, honey. Can you do that for me?” she whispered, her own breath steady and calm. Without being able to look her in the eyes you tried to mimic her breathing, hoping it would help you calm down too. Emily saw you concentrating as well as you could and she whispered sweet praises to you the whole time.

”In and out… just like that. You’re safe with me. Everything is okay, just focus on my voice.”

And you did. You listened to Emily’s soothing voice while you searched for her hand to hold. She grabbed your hand the moment she realized what you were trying to do. You clung to her, your whole body still trembling. Despite the awkward position with her sitting on the floor she held you, stroking your back, giving you all the time in the world to just breathe.

”That’s it”, she murmured against your hair. ”You’re doing great, baby. Just keep breathing.”

Some minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity, before you felt the weight on your chest lifting. It felt a bit easier to breathe again and when you pulled yourself out of Emily’s arms you saw her flashing you an encouraging smile.

”Thank you”, you whispered and wiped a tear away from your cheek, smiling a little. You didn’t know how to thank Emily enough for being there for you. ”You’re so good to me.”

”Because I love you”, she replied right away with zero hesitation. ”I love you more than you can imagine. And I believe in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself. You’re worth it, every bit of it.”

Her words pierced through the fog of self-doubt that had been shadowing you for years. They brought you a glimmer of light into the darkness that had enveloped you for so long. Maybe, just maybe, with Emily by your side you could start to heal. With her love and support it seemed like anything was possible.

”I’ll try”, you whispered. Your voice was still shaky but there was a layer of newfound hope in it. ”I’ll try my best to believe.”

Emily’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

”That’s all I ask, darling. One day at a time, together”, she said and tightened her grip on your hand. You looked down at your intertwined fingers and how Emily’s thumb drew patterns on top of your palm. It was so soft, so soothing.

”Emily… I need… I need to feel close to you. To know this is real”, you confessed with your voice trembling out of vulnerability.

Emily’s eyes softened again and she pushed herself up on her knees to reach you better. She wrapped her arms loosely around your neck and pressed a tender kiss on your lips that were still a bit moist and salty from your tears.

”I’m here”, she whispered against your mouth. ”I’m right here, my love.”

Her hands moved to your shoulders, to your sides. They started roaming over your body, not in a demanding way but more like an offering of comfort and intimacy. She knew that was what you were silently asking for. You responded to Emily’s kiss, letting it grow more urgent, seeking solace in her familiar touch. The atmosphere in the room changed into desperation, it was like you couldn’t get enough of her touch. It was the only thing that could ground you right now.

Emily’s fingers brushed against your scars again. You noticed you had totally forgotten about them. Even though her touching them now was sudden, you didn’t flinch this time. You didn’t pull away. Instead you let her touch you, to soothe the scars with the softness of her fingertips. You both looked down at the lines scattered on your arm for a bit before Emily caught you and distracted you with another kiss.

Then she stood up, pushing you gently down to the bed. She helped you lie down in front of her and when you noticed the hungry gaze she looked at you with, it made your heart race. Emily was all you had ever dreamed of and you couldn’t believe you had the privilege to call her yours.

Her eyes never left yours as she moved above you to straddle your hips. Her eyes were filled with love so profound that the whole moment felt more important than anything else had ever felt before.

”You are everything to me”, Emily whispered, her voice thick with emotion while she started pressing tiny kisses all over your neck, making goosebumps appear on your warm skin. ”Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

Her hands continued exploring your body with tenderness that took your breath away. Her lips followed the traces her fingers drew. Her movements were directed by her need to make you feel adored. Each kiss, each caress, each tiny little movement she made was a silent promise of her love and support. You clung to her, afraid to let go in case she somehow disappeared out of your reach.

When you felt Emily’s hands slipping underneath your shirt you felt a warmth spread through your body. You sighed into the slow kiss Emily was teasing you with while grazing your soft skin with her fingertips. You could feel her smile while kissing you and it melted your heart. It was so easy to forget about the rest of the world even existing.

Emily was too slow for your liking with your shirt. You couldn’t wait to get it off and feel her skin properly against yours, without any fabric in between. You had been longing for this, absolutely yearning, so it felt like your skin was burning out of pure lust for the woman on your lap.

”Take it off”, you mumbled against her lips and she let out a chuckle. She grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off. She couldn’t help but stroke the soft skin on your shoulders. She placed a small kiss there, and then on the other shoulder. On your collarbones, then on top of your breasts that were covered by a simple black bra. ”God… just undress me, Em.”

And she complied. She didn’t waste any time getting rid of the rest of your clothes and easing out of her own in the process as well. Both of you were left in just your underwear and you couldn’t help but steal glances of Emily’s body. You noticed she had her own scars and marks as well and suddenly everything she had said earlier made total sense. Your fingers traced a protruding scar on her abdomen and she put her hand on top of yours gently, to show you it was okay. It was part of her. Maybe the pain never truly went away but it was possible to live with it. Maybe you’d learn to live with your scars too.

Emily’s lips crashed against yours again and she gently pressed her whole body against yours, lying on top of you. You loved the feeling of being trapped between her and the mattress, the pressure made you feel safe.

She took a break from kissing you and just looked into your eyes, making sure you were feeling alright. She didn’t need to ask. You nodded, letting her know she had your consent and she answered with a small smile.

You were so mesmerised by how the light hit her deep brown eyes that you only noticed Emily’s hand sneaking down between your legs when an involuntarily moan escaped your mouth. She touched you through your underwear, finding the fabric damp already - which wasn’t a big surprise. It amused her, you could tell by the smirk on her face.

”You’re so pretty when you’re this needy for me”, she teased you in between kisses and started drawing circles with her fingers through your panties. Your hips tried to buckle up but the way she was lying on top of you made it difficult for you to move too much.

She stopped for a short while to ease you out of your bra. With one swift motion she slid her hand behind your back and undid the clasp, then pulling the bra off and throwing it on the floor. You felt a bit self-conscious, you couldn’t hide it. You and Emily had shared so much, seen so much of each other, but this was new. You were almost completely bare, emotionally and physically.

Emily could sense the nervousness in you. She grabbed one of your boobs softly, kneading it in her hand while lowering her head and taking the other’s nipple in her mouth. Your back arched as you watched her and felt her teasing the quickly hardening bud between her lips. You grabbed her head with your hands, your fingers getting lost in her silky black hair. A quick look at you before she swapped to the other nipple and she closed her eyes while giving it the same attention as the first one. You adored the sight in front of you, how your skin glistened with wetness Emily’s mouth left behind.

”Your boobs are perfect”, she stated when she opened her eyes to look up at you. You cradled her face in your hands, finding it difficult to believe her. You tried to, but saying something self-deprecating was your initial reaction.

”I don’t real-”, you managed to start before Emily stopped you right away.

”Shhh…” she shushed you and quickly came up to shut you up with a little kiss. ”None of that, okay? Not on my watch.”

You nodded, trying your best to just focus on Emily and this moment. Your mind was trying to take you elsewhere but it was stopped when Emily took her bra off. She didn’t give you a chance to pay much attention on her boobs before she lowered herself on your body so that she was situated between your legs on her stomach. She looked at you hungrily, inhaling your scent.

”Oh god”, you whispered under your breath when you felt her knuckles brush ever so slightly up and down your slit through your panties. You had never felt this turned on before and you were sure Emily could see it from the way your body reacted to her.

”Such a pretty girl… and all mine. I’m so lucky”, she whispered, blowing air against you on purpose. You writhed on the bed, desperate for her to just touch you properly already. She still dared to tease you by kissing you through your panties for a while until she decided it was time to help you out of them. She undressed you and then took a good look at you, admiring you with her eyes.

You felt shy and felt a blush creeping on your cheeks immediately.

And then she suddenly came up and sat against the headboard of the bed. She pat the spot in between her legs, motioning for you to sit there.

”Lean your back to my chest”, she told you and you did. You two fit like puzzle pieces when you leaned back. When your back was pressed against her you could feel her breasts pressing against your skin. You wanted to touch them, to suck on them, but Emily’s mind was clearly set on bringing you satisfaction instead.

Her arms wrapped around you and you loved how being so close to her felt like. It was pure bliss, the way her hands started travelling down your body and how they ended up caressing your pussy gently. You saw how her fingers glistened with your wetness as they teased you carefully, not touching your clit just yet. With your head leaning on her shoulder she placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

You inhaled sharply and your body jerked a bit when Emily’s fingers finally brushed over your clit. It felt better than any of the times you had done this to yourself before. You closed your eyes, letting Emily guide you through this, giving yourself and all of your trust to her completely.

”Is it okay if I slip a finger inside you?” you heard her asking and saying no didn’t even cross your mind. You nodded yes and heard Emily letting out a deep chuckle. Her voice so close to your ear made you shiver.

And then you felt her entering you, slowly and gently. She knew you could take it. You could hear how wet you were when she started moving her finger in and out of you in a slow rhythm. Her free hand found your breast and grabbed it, holding it like her life depended on it.

”More… another…” you breathed out and even though you didn’t see it you could’ve sworn Emily had a smug smile on her face.

”Another what, baby?” Emily teased you, whispering into your ear as she watched you writhe underneath her touch. You tried to move your hips to make her go deeper and to tell her what you needed, but Emily wouldn’t budge. ”I need you to speak up for me.”

”I need another finger, Emily please”, you finally begged and you could tell it amused Emily because as soon as the words had come out of your mouth she added another finger, and soon after a third one. You felt her fingers filling you and you couldn’t help but moan when she picked up the pace.

”God, you’re so soft…” she whispered into your ear and you turned your head, desperately needing to kiss her lips. You got completely lost in the kiss, moaning and whimpering as Emily’s fingers worked their magic. You couldn’t believe you had gone this long without this.

You felt Emily’s other hand squeezing your boob again, then wrapping tightly around your waist to pull you close to her. She noticed your legs starting to tremble a bit when you got closer to an orgasm so she put her legs over yours, locking you in place, making it impossible for you to close your thighs. You moaned her name in frustration, wanting to move your body purely just because all of this felt so good, but you weren’t able to. Your hands grabbed her arms when her hand found your clit.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cursed under your breath when you felt Emily fingering you and rubbing your clit at the same time, making your body spasm. You didn’t even realize how tight you squeezed her arms but she didn’t seem to mind, quite the contrary actually - it seemed to fire her up even more and she picked up her pace. As a result your thighs tried to close but she forced them to stay open with her legs. You wriggled in her grasp and groaned, no longer capable of controlling the sounds leaving your mouth. You were somewhere completely else.

”Come for me, my pretty girl”, you heard Emily say right next to your ear with a deep but sweet commanding tone. With that tone it was so easy for Emily to make you do whatever she asked for. You’d obey.

She started planting kisses all over your neck, the side of your face, your shoulder. You knew you wouldn’t last long feeling the combination of her fucking you recklessly and being so sweet with her kisses at the same time. Your hand flew to hers, grabbing it while she was playing with your clit and you squeezed it tight.

”I’m gonna…” you could get out of your mouth but Emily knew already that you were about to reach your peak. She was so good at noticing every tiniest sign from your body that showed you were close. She continued her steady pace of fucking you, not giving you any mercy. She saw your eyes closing in the midst of all the pleasure.

”No… no, baby. Look at me. Don’t close your eyes, I want to see you when you come. Please”, she said and used the same tone as before, knowing you couldn’t resist. You opened your eyes and looked into Emily’s big brown ones right when your orgasm hit you. Her eyes were full of love, her gaze not leaving you for one second while your body shook uncontrollably in her arms. She kept you afloat as you were taken over by your orgasm, repeating Emily’s name over and over again without even realizing it.

She smiled, slowing down the movement of her hands and fingers to let you calm from your high. You held on to her, trying to catch your breath.

Her hand that was on your clit moved to rest gently on your stomach while the fingers of her other hand stayed inside you, barely moving. You fell limp against Emily, feeling your skin sticking to hers. You loved being this close to her, feeling her heartbeat against your skin. She kissed your temple while you tried to calm down after what you could only describe as the best orgasm of your life. You felt so safe in her arms. You didn’t want this to ever end.

When Emily was about to pull her fingers out of you, your hand flew to her wrist to stop her. You didn’t want her to do so just yet. You couldn’t bear the thought of feeling empty so quickly after being filled up by her.

”Stay inside me for a bit more, please?”

”Of course, my love”, Emily answered sweetly, keeping her fingers inside you. You closed your eyes, sighing contently. This time Emily let you close your eyes - but she couldn’t help but reach to kiss your lips when she saw the peaceful look on your face. It was so serene compared to before when you were revealing your scars to her. The panic was gone and she adored the calmness she saw now. She kissed you softly, channeling all her admiration towards you in the kiss.

She gasped when she tasted a salty tear, quickly noticing that it had fallen from your eye down your cheek. She grabbed your cheek with her free hand and you nuzzled into it.

”Are you okay?” Emily asked while drying your tears with her thumb and continuing to stroke your cheek with a soft touch. You nodded and kissed her hand, making her eyes threaten to water too after the sweet gesture. You had never felt so loved before.

”Thank you for being there for me”, you said, your voice breaking a little as you thought about all the ways Emily had shown you how much she cares. You took her hand in yours and smiled when you felt her intertwining your fingers. You wished she’d never let go. You knew you wouldn’t.

”Always.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #mine: writing

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writersdrug · 7 months

Text

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

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Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

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The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix @v3lv3tvampir3 @theoneandonlykymberlee @luvvnightingalee @dillybuggg @sun-joo @perfectus-in-morte @evilive @satakingslime @comfortless

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

#konig x reader #konig x reader smut #konig cod #konig smut #call of duty #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost cod #cod #konig #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader

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cyborg-franky · 8 months

Note

Hi! I recently discovered this and i took me a while read everything but i just couldn't stop it, I love it! Can you someday write something about F reader and Ace like childhood friends to lovers?

Aaaah I am glad you like! And I hope you like this, I don't do gendered readers I'm afaird <3 I hope thats okay.

Ace x GN Reader SFW WC: 889

You’d known Ace since you were both kids, when he wasn’t roughhousing and causing trouble with his brothers he was with you. You’d lay on the grass together and stare at the sky, watching the clouds. You could tell he enjoyed these moments as much as you, tired from a day of rolling around and screaming at Sabo and Luffy he just took the time to breathe in your company.

“That cloud looks like a goat,” You pointed and Ace followed your finger, narrowing his eyes at the white fluffy shape before scoffing. “More like a sabertooth tiger,” He replied as if that was a simple fact and you were wrong. You huffed back at him. “But the horns look!” You nudged him with your elbow and waved your finger, trying desperately to paint the picture for him.

“You're blind!” He nudged back. “What?” You sat up and frowned at him, he sat up with you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as he nodded to the shape. “No, no, look at it this way!” You rolled your eyes knowing you were right.

Despite the occasional disagreement, he was your best friend, and every moment you spent with him you were at your happiest.

“What?” You asked, loudly as you almost dropped your drink and stared at him. “Yeah! I got a boat and a crew, I’m finally ready to set sail as a pirate!” you shook your head, thinking about the long months he’d vanished, you’d been worried sick about him and now he came back with all these wild promises of adventure and claims he was ready to set sail and make something of himself.

Sure, he’d grown up, filled out, and come back with a devil fruit power, he still hadn’t gone into the details about that, but still. Ace was happier, confident and you were happy for him but the way he was coming back into your life just to leave again?

You were both teenagers and despite the time and space that was ever between you over the years you remained best friends. You felt your heart ache as he carried on talking about how he was going to leave today, how the world was waiting for him. You’d always known he was desperate to be heard, to be seen, to pave his own way, and to avoid the looming shadow of his father's legacy, you’d just always hoped you could be at his side for it. To see him shine like the star he was.

“So,” You started and he watched you “You came back after all this time just to leave again?” to leave ME again.

“I- what? No!” He slammed his hands on the table, making the cups wobble and spill. “I was coming to ask you to join me! I don’t think I could do this without you.” He said with determination to get you on his side again before he reached over the table to grab your hands. “Come on, like we always talked about!”

–

Despite your better judgment you joined his crew, and became a Spade pirate. You hadn’t been serious when you were kids, how you’d both talk about the possible future but you couldn’t be without him again and you had a feeling he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. Ace was as stubborn as he was cute.

You even stayed by his side when the Whitebeard Pirates had assimilated you all to their ranks, you’d cleaned Ace’s cuts, bandaged his wounds, and tried to talk him out of killing Whitebeard, though you knew that was never going to happen.

It had been years now, the way you carried on growing up side by side. You’d held his hand when he’d taken the leap and gotten the huge tattoo on his back, you had a matching one, just much smaller than the one that marked his pride in his new life and role as the second division commander.

You’d gotten closer and spent all your free time with him. He was lying on your bed as you finished washing up for the night, ready for bed, and watching as Ace was dozing off on the bed. This was how it always happened, he had his own room but more times than not he would fall asleep on your bed and you’d wake up bing spooned by him. His strong arms around your waist and his lips against your neck as he snored.

“Marco asked how long we’d been dating today,” you started and he snapped awake, looking at you from under his hat. “And what did you tell him?” you laughed at his reaction, he must have been asked the same question by other whitebeards. “I said since we were young.”

You got into bed next to him, taking his hat and setting it on the nightstand, gently brushing back his hair and seeing his brows furrow as he wrinkled his nose. “Are we dating?” you shrugged and got comfy, feeling him latch onto you almost instantly,

“I think we crossed the line of what is acceptable for friends a while ago.” You said, closing your eyes as you felt the breath from his chuckle tickle your neck from how close he was nuzzling you.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

#one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #sfw #one piece #gender neutral reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #one piece x yn #one piece x yourname #one peice x y.n #one piece imagine #portgas d ace x reader #ace op x reader #ace x you #ace x reader #ace x yn

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years

Text

Grays

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Grays Part II }

Rating: M

Summary: Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head.

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, no physical descriptions other than that Reader has hair that can be dyed, not-quite-friends to *respectfully looking* dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendos, lots of teasing and banter.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: The origin story is here if you missed it. This is dedicated to my Frankie soul sister LJ @prolix-yuy who encouraged me to write this many months ago ❤️ As always, I’m an anxious mess writing for a new-to-me Pedro boy, so please be gentle with me (cos it's my birthday week) 🥺

I have a part 2 (with smut) in mind. I love where this leaves off, but who am I kidding. I probably won’t be able to help myself 😂

The bell on the door chimes with a sweet tinkle, cutting through the low, insistent purr of the hair clipper buzzing in your grasp. You don’t look up as you spy broad shoulders and a battered Standard Heating Oil cap crossing the threshold out of the corner of your eye.

‘Are you lost, Morales?’ you drawl indifferently, focused on the task at hand. ‘I have an appointment with Pope today, not you.’

‘He booked it under his name. Thought you’d take it as a prank if I called in myself.’

You look up to meet his gaze reflected in the mirror sitting in front of Greg, your current customer. ‘I wonder why he’d think that.’

Frankie shrugs, leaning against the reception counter with his arms crossed. ‘Beats me.’

You snort. ‘Really? You’ve insisted loudly and repeatedly for as long as I’ve known you that you don’t see the point of going to a hairstylist when you can have Pope cut your hair with kitchen scissors in his bathtub.’

‘C’mon, Shiv.’

‘Oh, he knows my name,’ you gasp sarcastically. You turn to Greg, who’s clearly amused by this exchange, and loop him in. ‘He usually just grunts at me.’

At this point, Ashton - your apprentice and all-round salon maverick - makes an appearance. Clearly having caught the tail-end of your conversation with Frankie, he glances between the two of you with an arched eyebrow. ‘Are we back to chasing customers away, boss?’

‘Sit his ass down but he doesn’t get a free drink,’ you instruct. ‘I’ll get to him when I get to him.’

Ashton goes ahead and ignores your orders point blank, per usual. After hanging up Frankie’s jacket and settling him at the station furthest away from you in the far corner of the salon, you see him sneakily give him a coffee. He can never resist the handsome ones.

You take your sweet time with Greg, cleaning up his sideburns, even though you’re basically done with him - just to tick off your waiting customer.

Not that it works, and you know it won’t. He just sits there, his wide frame filling up the chair, still as a rock. The dog-eared, months-old magazines strategically placed on the table for idle reading lie untouched. That’s Francisco Morales for you.

You’ve been orbiting each other since sixth grade, as all kids in your close-knit neighbourhood do. In fact, most of your customers went to your school.

You don’t even remember how it started - probably at a sleepover - you discovered one day that you’re handy with box hair dye. By freshman year, you were colouring your fellow classmates’ hair in the girls’ toilets after school, earning enough pocket money to keep your cabinet at home fully-stocked with new hair products on rotation.

Your ever-changing hair colour got you into trouble with the headmaster more times than you can count, who nicknamed you Shape Shifter. Your friends abbreviated it to Shifter, then over the years, whittled it down to Shiv, and it stuck.

After being gifted a set of styling scissors for Christmas one year, you started hanging out at the neighbourhood salon, hustling for an apprenticeship. You practised what you observed on your fellow students, giving out haircuts on the bleachers on non-game days for a couple of dollars (the fee waived if something went disastrously wrong).

That’s how you first met Benny - his then cheerleader girlfriend took him in for a haircut when it got too long for her liking. When you eventually opened your own salon years later, he was your first paying customer, having come home after being honourably discharged from the army.

During the early days, when you struggled to fill your appointments and he couldn’t win a fight to save his life, you made a pact. You would do his hair at a heavy discount for his posters and promotions, and in return, he would let you use his photos for the salon’s marketing.

And it worked. Well, not that you had anything to do with him turning his fortunes around on the MMA circuit, but he had everything to do with getting customers through your door. It only got busier when Santi joined the ranks a couple of years later, and even though Will only shows up when his hair gets really unruly, they both sit in front of your camera with no complaint in return for mate’s rates.

Having these guys on your salon’s social media keeps both the gents and the ladies booking up your appointments.

Frankie Morales, though, is a different animal.

When you finally appear over his left shoulder, his coffee is all gone and he meets your eyes in the mirror nonchalantly. He’s leaning his whole weight on his right elbow on the armest, his left arm outstretched and blunt nails tapping on the table, the only hint of impatience he’s giving away.

He’s good at that - he’s the laid-back one out of the boys, the one who hangs back and observes with arms crossed, but quick to crack a grin and throw in a wicked barb when the occasion calls for it. Nothing ever seems to faze him, and probably nothing does - you hear that makes a good pilot, and from what Pope lets on, he’s a damn good one.

It also makes for highly effective bait for the ladies. He’s a popular fixture on the local bar scene - let’s face it, all of the boys are. You’ve seen him in action more than once when Benny or Pope invites you along on a night out, more often than not without Will since he had a baby girl with his high school sweetheart last year. Frankie’s brooding, quiet, beer-sipping act often works better than Benny’s over-the-top flirting or Pope’s Casanova bit.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Hands on your hips, you goad him, ‘Alright Morales, how do I know you’ll pay up, you cheap bastard?’

‘Pope says to put it on his tab.’

‘Music to my ears.’ You tap him on the shoulder. ‘Sit up and off with the cap.’

With a grumble, Frankie lifts the cap up by the beak, ducking his head as he does so. He tosses it onto the table offhandedly and shifts in his seat, but you’re not fooled by his unconvincing air of indifference. From the way he plasters his palms to the top of his denim-clad thighs, as if to stop them from fidgeting, you know he’s feeling vulnerable.

You can’t say you’ve ever seen Frankie without his headgear - now that you think about it, he’s been wearing it since high school. Heck, he might have gone through several incarnations of that blasted hat in the years in between. You’ve caught glimpses when he lifts it up to fix his hair, but otherwise, all you see is what peeks out from underneath, the longer wisps that coil around his ears and the curls at the back.

As it turns out, there’s really nothing to hide - sure, the cut is blunt and his hair lacks shine, but both can be easily fixed. You step into his space and comb through his locks, starting at the base of his skull and working your way up the sides.

The contact startles him - he practically jumps out of his skin, and you don’t miss the way the veins on the back of his hands pop and he digs his nails into his legs.

'Easy, boy,' you soothe with a teasing undertone, earning yourself a glower from the pilot. As much as you enjoy needling him, you do want your customers to be comfortable. So you let slip a deliberate but genuinely appreciative hum as the dark tendrils, subtly tinged with grays, part softly at your prying fingertips. ‘Wow, your curls are really thick.'

He looks up, an unsure frown on his brow. ‘Oh. Is that bad?’

‘No, Morales, it’s definitely a compliment,’ you tell him encouragingly - your bark has always been worse than your bite. ‘What do you use to wash your hair? It’s a bit dry.’

He shrugs. ‘Shampoo.’ At your insistent stare, he snaps, ‘What?’

‘Don’t lie to me, Morales,’ you warn him in a stern voice.

He huffs and gives in. ‘Fine. It’s a 2-in-1 body wash. I get it at the gas station, happy?’

You shoot him a smug grin as he rolls his eyes. ‘Well, you’re using proper shampoo from now on, and conditioner.’ He opens his mouth, a complaint on the tip of his tongue, when you hold a finger up at him. ‘Don’t argue with me, mister. I’ll throw in a couple of bottles on the house to get you started.’

‘Fine,’ he concedes. Unfailingly polite even when grumpy, he adds, ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Your trusty swivelling stool screeches in protest when you drag it over on its wheels, before you take a seat and address the elephant in the room. ‘So - I’m guessing you’re here because of the wedding.’

You get a grunt in response. Scratching a particularly scrappy patch of his beard that has turned prematurely silver, he says, ‘My ma says I should cover up my old man grays for it.’

You snort, shaking your head. ‘Ha! And you tell your mother I say - hell no, ma’am! I will do no such thing.’

Frankie blinks at your unexpectedly adamant response. ‘What?’

‘I said, hell no,’ you repeat. Turning his head to the side with two fingers on his stubbled cheek, you comb his locks upwards to study the way the grays blend in softly with the umber, matching the ashen flecks in his beard. He doesn't start as badly at your touch this time, but there’s a telltale tick in his jaw, and you can almost hear the tension that thrums just below his skin where a late summer tan still lingers.

‘See how your grays are mainly coming out on the underside?’ you point out. ‘I like the way they just peek through the brown, it gives more depth to your curls. Natural highlights, if you will.’

He looks unconvinced and swipes at a smattering of silver with dismissive fingers. ‘Dunno. Thought the grays make me look old.’

You chuckle. ‘You’re no spring chicken anymore, Morales, and I mean it in a good way. Grays are natural - they will look even better when you start using actual shampoo and conditioner. Trust me, the salt and pepper works on you. I’m not dyeing your grays, and that’s that.’

For the first time today, Frankie turns his head and looks directly into your eyes. ‘My mother’s coming back to town for the wedding, you know. And she remembers where you live.’

You laugh. ‘Go ahead and send her my way, you know I’m not scared of her.’

He scoffs at your big talk. ‘You should be.’

Your relationship with the Morales matriarch is complicated, to say the least. She was always hard on you when you were a kid, thinking you were too wild and undisciplined. Now that you’re grown, you’re still torn between your admiration for her as a single mother who raised a good man, and the woman who never tires of dishing out criticism, warranted or not.

You give him a reassuring pat on the back, solid and warm under your touch. ‘Leave your mother to me, Morales. The grays stay, and I’ll make sure you steal the show at the party.’

‘Your funeral,’ he quips.

‘You just worry about getting yourself to the wedding,’ you retort, cracking your knuckles. ‘Now, are you ready for some pampering?’

Frankie rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth tick up in a vaguely upward direction - and you take it as a win.

‘Relax, Morales.’

‘I am relaxed,’ he insists through gritted teeth.

‘You’re about as relaxed as a cow on the butcher’s block. Unclench.’

For someone as economical with words as he is, his body certainly says a lot. Every single part of him seems hellbent on making his discomfort known. He breathes a frustrated exhale through his nose, brow deeply furrowed, his glare burning holes into the ceiling.

The leather seat of the backwash barely contains his tall build, his t-shirt stretched to the seams across his chest as he leans back into the basin. He’s bouncing his left leg irritably, the tight denim straining against his lap.

You try - valiantly - not to gape too obviously at the conspicuous bulge nestled snugly between his thighs under his belt buckle. But you can’t avert your eyes from something of that size. It’s against the laws of physics. Or something.

Even from where you’re standing, at the top of the basin peering down the slope of his body, its heft is clearly testing the structural integrity of the zipper of his jeans. Imagine the view from the other side -

Clearing your throat, you bodily press down on Frankie’s shoulders which are coiled up like the hood of an angry python, forcing them to loosen up. He jerks as if he’s a copper wire and you’re electricity. You tease, ‘So sensitive. You act like you’ve never felt a woman’s touch before, Morales.’

‘You know that’s not true,’ he growls at you, the prominent vein in his neck starting to pulse in frustration.

‘No, you’re right - I do know,’ you smirk, dragging out your syllables.

Your tone has him frowning at you, upside down. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean - I know,’ you repeat with a conspiratorial wink.

He narrows his eyes at you. ‘What do you know, Shiv?’

You wriggle his eyebrows at him suggestively, enjoying yourself far too much. ‘I own a salon, Morales. I hear things from the ladies about town.’

One large palm reaches up to shield his face in embarrassment, a pained groan escaping between the gaps of his fingers. ‘For fuck’s sake - kill me now.’

You laugh, wrestling his hand from his face to with an impish grin. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve only heard good things so far - Frankie big boy Morales.’

He blushes so hard that his ears and neck go a livid red, and for a minute, you’re actually worried that he’d pass out from not enough blood reaching his heart. Not keen on the prospect of having to explain to the emergency services that you teased the poor man into an aneurysm, you turn on the water and cut short your little chinwag with a good-natured chuckle.

His hands are still tightly clamped around the armrest when you carefully run the shower head along his hairline and behind his ears, soaking his curls. His biceps flex from the tight grip and the lean muscles strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt.

At least he closes his eyes when you start with the shampoo. The velvety lather froths as you patiently wash his hair, which clings to his wet curls like vanilla frosting. The deep crease between his brows eases with each gentle swipe into his locks, and the invisible force pulling his lips downwards slackens. By the time you rinse out the bubbles, you don’t miss the way the tension in his body unwittingly goes with it down the drain.

When your nails slide slickly into his hair with the conditioner, his stubborn body finally, slowly unfurls. His head tips back of its own accord, baring the column of his strong neck as he leans inadvertently into your touch. Colour returns to his knuckles when he releases his death grip on the backwash.

You smile to yourself, scraping your fingertips along his scalp in a firm massage, watching his chest rise and fall as he teeters on the brink of consciousness.

As your thumbs trace a confident path down the back of his skull, they appear to find a particularly sensitive spot near the base of his neck, and it's as if a switch is flipped. You witness the exact moment he breaks - his back arches off the leather seat, his obstinate lips part with a strangled half-sigh catching in his throat as he yields his full weight into the palm of your hands.

If you're not careful, you could get used to this.

‘Still with me, Morales?’ you tease quietly.

He garbles incoherently, and you grin.

Frankie practically molds into the chair like warm wax when you shepherd him back to the styling station. You’re so chuffed with yourself that you don’t even feel the need to gloat at the way his eyes are glazed over and how his head lolls into the soft pressure when you run a fluffy towel through his hair. The man recoiling at the mere brush of your fingers a distant memory.

You run an assessing eye over him, brushing out his locks to gauge your game plan. ‘I like this length on you, so I’ll just trim the split ends and tidy up your sideburns. You’ll benefit from some layering too - it’s a bit heavy on top right now.’

From the way he blinks owlishly at you, you know he doesn’t catch a single word. He shrugs and says matter-of-factly. ‘You can’t do worse than Pope.’

The salon is quiet this afternoon, as it tends to be on Wednesdays. You let him enjoy the peace for a little bit and tap your foot to Ashton’s playlist as your styling scissors move over his curls in metallic snips.

‘Tip your head forward for me,’ you instruct, sliding around the back of his head on your wheels as you probe, ‘So - how are you feeling about the wedding?’

The fabric of his t-shirt bunches over his shoulders as they quirk noncommittally.

‘It’s just a few days away.’

He makes an indifferent noise. But you’re not so easily dissuaded from conversation, and he knows it.

‘Can’t be easy - watching your ex get married.’

Frankie pins you with a long-suffering stare in the mirror. ‘We broke up a year ago.’

Getting onto your feet, you ruffle your fingers through the crown of his curls. ‘Yeah, but you dated for years. She sure moved on quick.’

He huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Swapping out the styling scissors for blending shears, you argue, ‘What? It’s a legitimate observation. I’m just making conversation here.’

‘Or we could just sit here quietly.’

Ha. As if you ever listen to him. You press on, ‘Why did she invite you anyway?’

Frankie’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender as he humours you. ‘It’s a damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t kind of situation, I guess. The whole town’s invited.’

‘You sure she isn’t trying to flaunt it in your face or something?’

‘Flaunting implies I still care. I don’t.’

You give him a juvenile nudge nudge, wink wink. ‘Well, on the bright side, you’ll definitely get laid, being the heartbroken ex and all. Chicks love that shit.’

He dispatches a side-long stare in your direction. ‘I’m not heartbroken, and that’s not why I’m going. And you know none of this is any of your business, right?’

‘You’re no fun,’ you pout.

He quips, ‘As a professional hairstylist, you really should be better at making polite conversation.’

You snort. ‘Do you really think it’s a good idea to call me rude when I have scissors in my hands?’

Frankie watches you work in the comfortable lull that’s settled between you, gliding the blades along strands of his curls pulled taut, before running a fine-toothed comb through to brush out the loose tufts. Soft coils land on the floor around his chair as you work your way methodically through his layers.

‘Are you going to the wedding?’ he asks eventually.

You shrug. ‘Maybe, depends on my schedule. I gotta say, I’m kind of curious to see how tacky it will be.’

At his eyebrow sternly cocked, you argue, ‘I know she’s your ex and all, but she’s always been a bit tacky. I mean, that remodel of your house was just tragic.’

Frankie frowns. ‘How do you know all this? You’ve never been to my house.’

You wink. ‘Benny tells me everything when I do his hair.’

He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Of course. Benjamin fucking Miller.’

You give him a pat on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’m on your side, if it helps.’

‘I don’t need you on my side.’

You flash him an insufferable grin. ‘Too bad, Francisco. I am and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

The hairdryer drowns out any further conversation, and Frankie quietly studies you as you cord your fingers through his hair, ruffling it as it dries.

It’s still a bit damp when you switch off the hairdryer and reach up to pull a couple of jars from the shelf above. ‘On the day of the wedding, I want you to wash your hair just before you style it. You have a hairdryer at home, right?’

He throws you a pointed look. ‘I’m not a heathen.’

You grin. ‘Down boy, just checking. Now, you’ll dry your hair until it’s still a bit wet, like so.’ Presenting the styling mousse to him, you say, ‘Then go on and grab some product - you only need a dollop.’

He dips his index finger into the pot, scooping up a generous blob. Your attention is unexpectedly piqued at the sight of his hands.

Have they always been so big?

Realising he’s staring at you in wait, you shake yourself out of it. ‘Ok, rub the mousse onto your fingertips and run them all over your hair, combing from root to end.’

Frankie does as he’s told, face set to a serious scowl as he impeccably goes over each section of his locks, staring into the mirror to make sure he gets every strand. For the first time, you see the pilot in him up close, and you wonder if he’s this thorough about other things, like -

Laundry, your mind interrupts as it careens on the brink of the metaphorical gutter. Get your shit together, Shiv.

‘Good,’ you smile when he’s done, hoping he doesn't see the strain in it. ‘Now, I want you to rake your fingers through the roots when you dry your hair all the way.’ In demonstration, your nails burrow into the base of his thick hair, then you wriggle your fingers upwards towards the ends. ‘It will give you lots of volume and really show off this cut.’

Passing him the hairdryer, you watch him critically in the mirror. He imitates your movements, a bit clumsily and far too cautiously. Leaning down to his ear so he can hear you over the whir, you instruct him, ‘Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.’

He chokes and pins you with a wide-eyed stare in the mirror that glances right off your oblivious self. Along with your words, nothing about this exchange would register in your head in any other way until much, much later tonight, when you replay the conversation in your head in that limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

It may or may not have you squealing into your pillow in latent embarrassment - and something else.

But for now, you’re happy with the way his hair has set, and you gesture for him to switch off the hairdryer. Turning his chair towards you and away from the mirror, you scan your eyes over him and make small adjustments - tucking a couple of strands behind his ear here, a couple of final snips there.

As a final touch, you bury your fingers into his locks, dragging your fingertips through the roots to impart a final tousle so that the curls are loose and soft. You preen at the way he sways into your contact, all shyness gone, his hooded eyes half-closed - before he seems to catch himself and sits up with a self-conscious ahem.

Grabbing a small bottle from the shelf, you say, ‘Last thing - your beard is a bit dry as well. This oil will keep it nice and moisturised, just two or three drops after you wash up in the morning will do.’

Tipping his face up by the crook of your finger and opening up his neck to you, you smooth the ointment along both sides of his jaw, rubbing circles into his neatly trimmed whiskers and all the way up his sideburns. Sliding downwards, your hands seek out the closely shaved stubble tucked beneath his chin. Then, by sheer momentum, your palms continue down his throat in a slow, sticky descent, until the pads of your thumbs slot into the hollow between his collarbones, your fingers resting at the base of his neck where you feel his pulse rabbiting underneath.

The air thickens and shifts between you. When he swallows, you feel the ripple of the moment against your fingertips.

His eyes are on you, and suddenly he’s too close, his skin too hot under your hands. To your horror, something akin to shyness rears its head and you almost stumble backwards to put a safe distance between you.

Scrubbing the oily residue from your hands on a towel, you break the moment with a wink and a steadier smile than you actually feel. ‘You look good, Morales. Ready to take a look?’

‘As if you would take no for an answer,’ he mumbles under his breath. Fondness might be too strong of a word - but you don't think you're imagining the faint trace of amusement in his voice.

With a dramatic ta-da, you spin his chair around with a flourish.

Frankie Morales is obviously not a vain man - he most likely owns five pairs of jeans that he’s worn on rotation for the past fifteen years, his t-shirts are washed ragged, and his trusty leather boots have seen better days. He probably doesn’t use a mirror other than for purely utilitarian purposes, like checking if there’s something stuck in his teeth from his last meal.

But right now, by the way he’s holding his breath as he meets his own eyes in the reflection, you can tell that he’s really looking at himself for the first time in a long while.

You pretend to busy yourself with tidying up the styling station as you discreetly sneak glances at him, feeling strangely bashful for intruding in this moment. When he remembers to breathe again, he tilts his head left then to the right, and back again, even swivelling his chair from side to side so he can peer round the back.

You’ve parted his waves to the side, the lighter cut allowing his curls to carry their natural shape. The healthy sheen, courtesy of the mousse, tempers his grays to a softer, burnt silver that catches the light fetchingly as he moves. Reaching up, Frankie pushes back a stray curl that falls over his eyes, and his back straightens in a quiet show of confidence.

Running a salon is hard work and often thankless. But on days like this? You know you’re meant to do this.

A dramatic gasp draws both of your attention. Ashton is clutching at his chest, backed up against the neighbouring styling station, gaping at Frankie. ‘Mister - you look good enough to devour. Look at that salt and pepper, I’m living for the grays. Doing the Lord’s work, Shiv!’

You laugh as Frankie flushes, scratching an invisible itch on his forehead. You brush the loose hairs off his shoulders with a towel and give him a nudge. ‘See? I’m not the only one who thinks you look good with the grays. You better stock up on the condoms, Morales, the ladies will be all over you at the party.’

He shakes his head self-deprecatingly as he stands up, rubbing his palms on his jeans, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. ‘I doubt it, but - thanks. I appreciate this, Shiv.’

He shrugs on his well-loved burnt yellow jacket, the one with the sleeves perpetually folded up above his wrists and grabs his cap. You hold out a paper bag with the free shampoo and conditioner you promised him, throwing in a jar of hair mousse for good measure. ‘You’re welcome, and you better not put your hat on again this afternoon after all that hard work.’

His fingers brush yours when he takes the bag from you, then, as if it’s the logical next thing to do, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your right cheek, his stubble coarse against your skin - and you know without looking it’s the gray patch in his beard that brushes against your jaw as he draws back. You fumble, feeling heat prickle the back of your neck and blooming in your rib cage.

He flashes you the most self-assured smile you’ve seen on him this afternoon, which has you biting your bottom lip. ‘I won’t. Maybe see you at the wedding, Shiv.’

It takes you five full seconds to regain motor functions. By the time you unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, Frankie’s already out of the door with a spring in his step.

In companionable silence, you and Ashton watch the pilot strut - because that’s what he’s doing, he’s strutting with a confidence that becomes him - across the road through the glass front of the salon.

‘What a dish,’ Ashton sighs dreamily, flopping into a chair as if his limbs have given out. ‘I hope he comes back soon.’

You smile. A girl could always hope.

Notes: It's the first time I'm using a nickname for a Reader, but I have a real soft spot for Shiv, and I think she deserves one. I'm not sure where the fandom stands on this, does it disqualify the fic as a reader insert? If anyone has an issue with this, please let me know! For me, Shiv has no physical descriptions so to me she's still a reader insert.

I don't know if anyone expected this kind of dynamics between these two, but it's been so much fun to write with a bit of antagonism in the mix. I hope you enjoyed this, reblogs and comments are so, so appreciated as always. Thank you for reading ❤️

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier fanfic #frankie friday #queue

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 month

Text

Discovering Our Love

PAIRING || Tony Stark x Avenger!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 11.5K

SUMMARY || When Tony throws a party after an extended, challenging mission to celebrate its success, you and the other Avengers get wrapped up in a game of truth or dare, which turns out to be the start of the most fantastic love story you’ve ever witnessed: you and Tony. When you’ve gone without warning the next day, Tony can’t help but get distracted every time he thinks about you, the thought of you and your first kiss still fresh in his mind.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Use of Y/N and an ungodly amount of nicknames. Avenger!Reader. Alcohol consumption. Friends to lovers. Idiots in love. Mutual pining. Kissing as a dare. Angst. Reader is described as tattooed and pierced. Explicit sexual content.

SMUT || Praise/Praise kink. Dirty talk. Oral (M receiving). Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie. Aftercare.

A/N || This was supposed to be a short drabble, and well… here we are! I hope you will all enjoy the combination of the five amazing drabbles worked into this story, as I really had fun writing it. I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for helping me out during the writing of this story; without your support, this never would have turned out the way it has now, and I love you! 🤍

A/N 2.0 || These drabbles are included in the story: Drabble #1 - Drabble #2 - Drabble #3 - Drabble #4 - Drabble #5

EVENTS @fandom-free-bingo Book Night || Singing karaoke together @fandom-free-bingo Pride || Kissing as a dare + Falling over @fandom-free-bingo Wild || Romantic and platonic @julybreakbingo Post-JBB || “You could-” “Do not suggest I sit in your lap.” + Terms of endearment that may sound silly and/or ridiculous to others + Caught in the act + “Take my hand.” + Holding hands underneath the table + “Never figured you for a cuddler.” + Kissing someone on the head/cheek before leaving @tonystarkbingo #8005 || Friends to lovers

GIF: @ccbsrmsf1 || Other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Summer of Drabbles

The night has fallen long ago over New York City and Avengers Tower; the stars illuminate the sky above you beautifully as you and the Avengers enjoy the afterparty of one of Tony's (in)famous parties following a long and challenging mission. Everyone has been enjoying their fair share of booze and snacks the entire evening, making the atmosphere relaxed and happy as everyone can let loose for a night without thinking about saving the world.

Everyone is seated in a circle, taking up large lounge benches or seats on the rooftop terrace, and you're sharing a seat with the man you've been crushing on for years: Tony Stark. His arm is draped across the back of the seat, his fingertips tracing small patterns on your bare shoulder, his other hand gently cupping a glass of whiskey as he looks around the rooftop.

Meanwhile, you're clutching your bottle of beer tightly with your hands, making eye contact with Natasha as she talks with Bruce while occasionally glancing over at you and Tony. The only one who knows about your crush on the man next to you is her, as she's been your best friend since childhood, and the two of you have been sharing everything for as long as you can remember.

As you take a sip of your drink, Tony looks over at you, his gaze slowly wandering over your soft smile and beautiful features. A blush creeps on his cheeks as he thinks about the fact that he's been madly in love with you ever since he caught you in his lab due to your clumsiness, and feeling you in his arms feels nothing short of right.

"Pookie, can you hand me a cup from the cabinet? If you can't reach it, there's a stool there as well," Tony says, and you chuckle at the nickname he has given you this time. It has become a habit for the two of you to use terms of endearment that may sound silly or ridiculous to others, but for you two, it's become a game to come up with the oddest nicknames.

"Coming right up, Honeybear," you say, making him laugh hard as his heart warms at the nickname. This morning, you volunteered to help him out in his lab, as all the other Avengers are gone for a mission, and you came back from one last night, giving you two all the time in the world together. At first, you try to reach it as you're standing on your tiptoes, but you can't quite seem to reach as you huff at the shortcoming.

Then, you spot Tony's stepstool and position it by the counter of his kitchen. This time, you're successful, but as you want to back down, one of the legs snaps off, and you're flying back with a shriek, your eyes closed, as you're waiting for the impact of the hard, concrete floor to hit. It never comes, though, as a pair of strong arms catches you while the cup shatters into a million pieces on the floor.

"Careful there, Bambi," Tony says softly with bright red cheeks as he looks at you, the shock still visible on your face. The light of his lab illuminates your features in a way that makes you look like an angel, and he can't help but notice how good it feels to have you in his arms, how it feels like you belong there. Most of all, he's in love. He's undeniably in love with you and knows he wants to be yours for the rest of your lives together.

As Tony is lost in his thoughts as he looks at the soft slopes of your cheekbones and your plump, pink lips, he is caught off-guard by you turning your head to look at him. As you do, he scoffs quickly as he tries to hide his burning cheeks to no avail, as it is clear to everyone at the party what's going through his mind. Everyone but you, that is.

You feel your cheeks heating, and you shift in your seat, the feeling of Tony's long fingers against your shoulder leaving a trail of goosebumps. There is nothing but silence among the Avengers as they look at how you both are acting right now, knowing damn well what's going on in both your heads. Then, Thor thankfully decides to break the silence by starting another story about something that happened on Asgard with Heimdall, and you're thankful that the attention has shifted away from you and Tony for now.

As you try to listen to Thor telling his story, you can't help but let your thoughts wander as well, and the subject of them is the moment you realize you have fallen in love with Tony and fell hard.

"Tony, come on! It's our song!" you shout as you hear the starting notes of 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' in the karaoke bar you, Tony, and the other Avengers are at for the night, a bright smile on your face as you hear the song you and Tony always sing when you're singing karaoke together.

"Okay, I'm on my way! I'm not the fastest anymore," Tony fake complains, making you roll your eyes as you tug on his arm. The enthusiasm definitely rubs off on him. As you approach the stage first, you grab two microphones before getting into place and singing the first words of the song. While Tony usually doesn't like to sing in front of crowds like this one, he happily makes an exception for you, as he knows how happy it makes you.

The entire time, you find yourself dancing all over the stage, only having eyes for the man you're singing with. The song adds to the atmosphere, and when you grab Tony's hand to dance with you, a jolt of electricity goes through your entire body. Then, it all clicks in your brain. Over the last few months, you have been falling more and more for the man who's been your partner in crime, and it's not just a simple friendship. No, you're in love with Tony, and the realization makes you look at him in a different light, as you can't wait to grow old with him.

You're snapped out of your thoughts as you see Natasha standing up to grab a drink. She motions for you to follow her, and you do after excusing yourself from Tony, who smiles in understanding. He takes a moment to admire the way your dress hugs all your curves just right, and this time, it's his turn to shift his position now, needing to get more comfortable after the sight he just had.

"Two beers, please," Natasha says when she's at the bar, and then she immediately directs her attention to you.

"So, how are you enjoying your evening? You and Tony are nice and cuddly on the loveseat, huh?" she asks teasingly, which makes you flustered beyond belief, and you shake your head in disbelief. She may be your best friend, but she'd be crazy to think there might be anything going on between you two. He might be nice to you and a good friend, but that's all.

"It's fine, Nat," you say shortly, and she smirks as he shakes your head.

"So you're telling me you're not enjoying yourself at all with the man you're in love with?" she asks with a raised brow. Her smirk is unwavering as she looks at you with an almost piercing gaze.

"Let's not do this now, okay? I'm just going to enjoy my evening without feeling sad that he doesn't love me back, and probably never will, either," you tell her in a defeated voice, your gaze focused somewhere on the bar instead of at your best friend. She squeezes your hand softly after encompassing it, letting you know it will all be okay.

"I love you, Detka. Never forget that," she tells you, and you nod in response, a smile now gracing your features. If there's one person who can always make you feel better, it's her, and you're grateful to be able to call you her best friend, as there's no one else in the world you trust more than her. Well, except Tony.

After grabbing your beers, it's time for you and Natasha to head back to the group, where Tony is already awaiting your arrival. He misses having you by his side, as he feels an emptiness in his soul without you - like a piece of him is missing when you're not there. Luckily, you're already back, flashing a smile as you approach him.

"Hmm, is there still room for me on the seat, or shall I sit somewhere else, Smartie?" you joke, and Tony makes a bit of a scene as he scoots closer to you, his following words already on his tongue.

"Well, you could-" Tony starts, but you're quick to interrupt him, already knowing where he's going with it.

"Do not suggest I sit in your lap!" you say, a deep red blush covering your cheeks. It's become almost standard for him to suggest it, and even though you'd love nothing more than to take him up on his offer, you'd much rather do it when there's no one around to watch, and the thought alone has your thighs squeezing together for some relief.

"I wasn't, but if you're offering…" he jokes, but you shake your head as you get comfortable next to him, but this time he pulls you against his side to get comfortable while your head rests on his shoulder.

"I never figured you for a cuddler, Stark," Natasha says with a wink, even though it's well-known you two often cuddle up together during movie nights. It's not uncommon for you to fall asleep in his hold during said nights, leading to him carrying you to your bedroom and tucking you into bed. The way Tony's arm is wrapped around you makes you feel very safe; his warmth makes you feel even more comfortable now.

"It's hard not to be when I have my Cupcake by my side," he says before turning his head and placing a soft kiss on your hair. As he does, you and Natasha exchange looks for a moment, and a shy smile brightens your features as you cuddle even closer to Tony, which he happily welcomes. You two stay exactly like this for a while until Clint suddenly jumps out of his chair with an idea, and you immediately sit upright at the sudden movement.

"How about we play some Truth or Dare?" he says excitedly, and it's clear he's already had a few too many drinks - though, at this point, that's the case for most people. Not you, though, as you don't like to overdo it, and Tony has significantly dialed down the drinking after he hit a very low point in his life a few years back. Thankfully, you were there for him through it all, and he owes you his life.

Steve and Bucky nod, even though they're not sure how to play, and the other Avengers are cheering in excitement at the thought of what's about to come. Immediately, Natasha raises her hand as she wants to go first, and you can see the glimmer of mischief in her green eyes as she gets comfortable in her seat.

"Y/N," she says lowly, the corner of her mouth tugging up as she looks right at you. Your fingers are clutching your beer bottle again, and you feel Tony's fingers dig softly into your side as he hears your name. Between the options' truth' or 'dare,' you always tend to go the same route.

"Dare," you say confidently, precisely what your best friend had anticipated.

"I dare you and Tony to kiss," she says lightly as if she's discussing the weather with you. As the words sink in with you and Tony, the butterflies in your stomach go wild at the thought of feeling his lips on yours, the way his facial hair will scrape against your soft skin, and how his hands will feel perfectly on your body as you get lost in one another.

Before you realize what's going on, Tony is already on his feet with a large smile. His hand is extended towards you, and his eyes let you know he's excited about the thought of what's about to happen. As you look at Tony, you feel a surge of warmth and excitement flowing through your entire body. When you grab his hand, he swiftly pulls you up so that you're in front of him.

"Are you ready, Silly Goose?" Tony asks, and the nickname makes you chuckle as you nod. Everyone's eyes are on the two of you, while you and Tony only have eyes for one another as if you're in a bubble that you never want to leave.

"I'm ready, Frilly Moose," you answer with a completely straight face, and Tony can't help but step back to laugh out loud. It's a deep, rumbling belly laugh with you smiling right along with him while all the others look at you both as if they've seen a ghost.

Then, without warning, Tony straightens up before stepping towards you, his hands gently cupping your face as he leans in to kiss you. It's soft and sweet at first as if he doesn't want to take it too far, but when you step closer, you open your mouth to allow him to explore your mouth, just as you'll do with his. As you feel his tongue slip past your lips, a soft moan escapes, and Tony quickly swallows it as he takes his time with you.

It feels like it's lasting for an eternity, yet mere seconds simultaneously. Everything around you has completely disappeared as you lace your hands in his hair, and it's like your souls are connecting, forming an unbreakable bond between you both. When you pull away, Tony follows your lips, placing a few more pecks before finally allowing you to pull away.

As you look into his eyes, it's like a beast has been unleashed inside of him, and you're looking forward to seeing it come to the surface, but for now, it would have to wait. As you take a moment to catch your breath, your mind catches up with what's been happening, and you both blush like crazy. You've finally kissed the man you have been in love with for years, and it felt amazing.

"I- I don't think you were supposed to kiss me like that," you say softly, making Tony grin widely as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

"You kissed me back, Lovebug, so don't act like it was all me," he says in a playful tone, intensifying the heat in your entire body. The rest of the evening is going by in a blur, as you and Tony mainly have eyes for one another. While you two don't share any more kisses after this one, you're constantly touching each other and giving each other loving glances as you two bask in the glory of your kiss.

Once the party ends, Tony offers to bring you to your room, and you happily accept. As you're standing in front of your door, you're suddenly unsure what to say because you don't want the evening to end, especially after what happened between you.

"I—uhm…" you start, shyness taking over your entire being as you try to think of the right thing to say. It's challenging when he's so close that his cologne is taking over your senses, and his body heat radiates onto your skin.

"It's okay, Honeybuns," he whispers, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear, making your cheeks burn hotter. Instead of saying anything, you get onto your tiptoes to kiss his cheek softly, the stubble being an odd contrast to the softness of his skin. This time, as you look into his dark brown eyes, it's his turn to blush like crazy, his fingers gliding over the spot where you kissed him mere seconds ago.

"Goodnight, Tony," you say before turning around and opening the door to your bedroom, slipping inside as you need to get ready for some much-needed sleep. Even though you're in your room now, Tony cannot get himself to move quite yet, as it's like he's nailed to the floor while the evening's events rerun through his mind.

When he eventually does manage to get himself into his bed, he can't stop thinking about you, but what he doesn't know is that you can't stop thinking about him either and how amazing it felt to have kissed the man you've been in love with for the past few years.

It's been a short two hours of sleep for you when you're suddenly woken up to go on an emergency mission together with Natasha, and before you know it, you're in your tactical gear as you quickly put your hair up while on your way to the Quinjet. As you do, she brings you up to speed about what's supposed to happen - gathering information from an old but still intact HYDRA base.

"I'm gonna need you to take watch close by, as I could use your sniper abilities," Natasha says, and you nod. Your specialty is sniping, and you're pretty good during hand-to-hand combat, though you're more valuable regarding your spying and sniper skills. Natasha may be the better spy of the two of you; you're the one with a more versatile array of combat overall.

"Sounds good to me," you say as you're getting comfortable on the Jet, a determined look on your face as you prepare to fly. Then, the thought of not saying goodbye to Tony before your mission suddenly pops into your head, and the determination makes way for a wave of sadness. However, you quickly shove the thought aside, as you now have a mission to focus on.

A few hours later, it's Tony's turn to wake up to the sunlight streaming into his penthouse, his bed awfully empty as he's all alone. The first thought that slips into his head is you, and a smile immediately spreads across his face as he lets himself get lost in the daydream of kissing you on the beach. While he turns around to get more comfortable, he can't stop thinking about you, and even though he doesn't know it yet, you will be on his mind more and more the longer you're gone.

While Tony is still blissfully unaware of your absence, you and Natasha are already hard at work on your mission, which, at this point, mainly involves planning how to get into the building without being seen. However, this is quite a big ask of your mind right now, as it keeps wandering to Tony, which doesn't go unnoticed by your best friend.

"A penny for your thoughts, Detka?" Natasha asks, and you're snapped out of your thoughts as you look at her with a shocked expression. She can't help but chuckle as a deep, burning blush spreads over your cheeks and down your neck as you realize you've been caught.

"I—ugh!" you exclaim, falling back in your chair with a groan. Your eyes are closed as you rub your temples, wanting your mind to focus on the task at hand. Natasha looks at you with empathy, her mouth curled up in a sympathetic smile as she puts her hand on your bicep, rubbing soothing circles.

"If you want to take a break, it's okay. We can go over this later if that's what you want. I can tell there's something or someone else on your mind, and I think it's good to talk about it so you can get it out of your system," she says gently, slowing your heart rate. She has always had a calming effect on you, and you're more grateful now than ever for that.

"Thank you," you whisper before getting up and walking to the kitchen in the small safehouse you two are calling home for the next week. You make two cups of tea there while Natasha gets comfortable on the couch, ready for some much-needed girl talk.

"Now, spill!" she says as soon as you put down the mugs, and you can't help but laugh.

"Can I at least sit down first?" you ask, which makes her sigh impatiently, which only makes you shake your head with a smile. You love her to death, but when she gets like this, you sometimes wonder where the patient, tactical spy that was here not too long ago is. You wouldn't want it any other way, though, because you love her exactly the way she is.

"So?" The question hangs in the air as you try to figure out what to tell her. Or, more specifically, how to tell her that Tony has been on your mind almost constantly from the moment you said goodbye to him less than 24 hours ago. The kiss is still fresh in your mind, as it is what occupies your mind almost constantly.

"I'm madly in love, Nat; what else is there to say? I kissed Tony, and it felt fucking amazing, but now I'm already away from him, and we haven't even had the time to talk about it! Hell, I didn't even get to say goodbye to him for crying out loud!" Your voice starts trembling at the thought of leaving without so much as a goodbye, and your heart aches as you think about how it must be for him.

Less than 24 hours ago, your lips were locked in a soft but fantastic kiss, and now you're in the middle of nowhere with your best friend as you're supposed to be planning on how to get into the HYDRA base and get the information you need. As if that's not bad enough, you also are in a place where there's practically no reception, meaning there's no way for you two to reach one another.

"He's constantly on my mind; he's all I can think about when I go to bed, when I wake up, and every minute in between. But the fact that I can't talk to him bothers me most," you tell her, and a wave of sadness takes over your body as the thought sinks in. Your hands are clutched onto your mug to warm your hands, but to no avail - the ache in your heart only intensifies with every passing second.

Back at the Avengers Compound, Tony is about to find out about your absence as well, and it's about to hit him harder than he ever would have thought. All he wants is to hear your voice and touch your warm, soft skin with his fingers, making you giggle at the feeling of them tracing abstract figures.

"Has anyone seen Y/N by any chance?" Tony asks as he walks into the kitchen, where the Avengers - apart from you and Natasha - are seated to eat dinner together. Steve then informs him that you're on a mission, and his heart feels like it's dropping into his stomach.

"A- a mission? How long?" he asks softly, and Steve sends him an apologetic look as he lets Tony know you're gone for a week with Natasha. Without saying another word, he turns to go to his lab, where he has the most privacy. He can't stand to be around anyone right now, not when it felt like his soul was ripped apart with the news of your absence.

Once there, he lets himself fall into his rolling chair, a deep sigh escaping his chest as he shuts his eyes for a moment, letting his thoughts wander to you. As he does, he tries his hardest not to cry from the disappointment, as he hopes to finally be able to talk to you and get one of his favorite hugs from you after the long, tiring day he had. Instead, he's alone in his lab, thinking about the woman he loves but who's on the other side of the country.

Then, he gets an idea, and he could smack himself for not thinking of this sooner; he grabs his phone out of his pocket before quickly going to your contact, where he takes a moment to look at the photo he saved with it. Each time one of you calls the other, you'll see a happy, smiling selfie that was taken during the summer when all the Avengers went to the beach, which is a day he'll never forget.

His finger briefly hovers over the call button as he smiles to himself, wanting to savor the memory for a few more moments until it's time to put the phone against his ear. Each time he hears the dial tone, his heart starts beating faster, hoping he will hear your voice as soon as you pick up his call. It never comes, though, as it is quickly cut off before going to voicemail.

"Hi, you have reached my voicemail. Please leave a message, and I will try to call you back as soon as I can!"

The moment Tony hears your cheery voice, he lets the tears free. He can't even talk to the person he wants to talk to more than anyone, which breaks his heart. While he understands you're on a mission, it still hurts to be unable to talk, and he's just about to throw his phone against a wall when he hears the beep, letting him know he can leave a message.

"Hi, Sunflower," he starts off, his voice breaking as the nickname slips off his lips, tears flowing down his cheeks. He didn't realize your absence would hit him this hard, but it does, and he's unsure what to do with himself right now. He's no stranger to showing emotions, but without you there, he finds it difficult to control them.

"I- I wanted to tell you I really miss you! It's been a horrible day here at work, and I was hoping to get one of your hugs, but you're gone for a week, so… yeah! Uhm… I-I hope your mission goes well-" A sob tears through his body as he tries to get out the next words.

"Fuck! Uhm- I miss you, like I said, and please, come back in one piece, okay? I'll think about you when you're gone- it's all I've been doing, actually," he says with a chuckle as he wipes his tears away.

"Well, I'll see you soon. Stay safe out there, please. Bye," he quickly says before ending the call and throwing his phone onto the table, unable to hold that stupid thing any longer. For a moment, the thought of falling back into the habit of drinking himself to sleep as he wants to forget everything crosses his mind, but then he thinks about you again and decides against it. Instead, he asks JARVIS to bring Bruce - his best friend - to the lab.

"What's goin' on? I came as quickly as I could," Bruce pants, clearly out of breath from the sprinting to the lab. He briefly eyes Tony, and worry immediately settles in his stomach as he crouches in front of him.

"Hey, I'm here. You're gonna be okay," he tells Tony, who can't take it anymore. Sobs wreaks havoc in his body as he tries to fight the urge to do something he'll regret - especially when he thinks about how upset you would be if he did. He has worked hard over the past few years to get to the point where he is now, and he wants nothing more than to show you that he has done something to make you proud of him.

Bruce pulls Tony into a much-needed hug, and even though you're not giving it, he still appreciates his best friend being there for him, no questions asked. While Tony told him about his crush on you, he didn't go into the extent of his crush - or love, more specifically. He never would have thought he'd be this distraught over anyone going on a mission, but when all he needs is you, to hear you say that he's going to be okay and that you're there for him as you pull him into a comforting hug, he can't help but have a breakdown.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, you're completely unaware of what's going on at the Compound, and you won't be able to listen to his voicemail for a few more days until you're at a spot with enough reception. The entire time, Tony is worried sick as the hours tick by slowly, his mind constantly wandering to you and your safety.

Now, it's nearly three days since Tony left the voicemail, and you have some time to take it slow. This allows you to check any missed messages and calls, most of which aren't that important and can easily wait a few more days. Then, you see Tony's voicemail, and your heart skips as you press the button to listen to what he sent you. When you hear his voice, your heart feels like it shattered into a million pieces, and tears are brimming on your waterline.

"Hi, Sunflower." As soon as you hear the nickname, you get a huge smile on your face, even though you can hear that it took Tony a lot of energy to not burst into tears as he said it. Natasha looks at you and can tell that whatever you're listening to is not fun. Without saying anything, she pulls you into a hug while you keep listening to the voicemail, your heart being ripped apart with every second.

"I—I need to call him!" you tell Nat when his last words play on your phone. When you press the button to call him, your phone immediately tells you that the call isn't going through, which frustrates you to no end.

"Jesus, fuck! Why can't I just fucking call him?!" you huff in frustration, the bars on the top of your screen letting you know that your service is gone again. It must have been too good to be true, but at least you got to hear his voice for a few moments. The following few days, your mind wandered to the voicemail, making it difficult for you to focus sometimes, and you're glad the most important part of the mission was already done.

On the last night in the safe house, you and Natasha have a typical girls' night to get your mind off everything for a moment as you both pack some face masks, fluffy socks, and pajamas to wind down, and it's just like when you were growing up. This time, instead of talking about Tony, you ask her about her crush on Bruce, which makes her cheeks almost the same shade as her hair, and she blushes like crazy.

"So… How's Bruce?" you ask with a raised brow as you're sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in your hand - thankfully, the safehouses are always stocked with plenty of food and drinks. Natasha lifts hers as she avoids your gaze, which is not something she usually does, and it makes you very suspicious.

"What happened, Moy Petarda? Tell me everything!" you say as you lean forward, the wine almost spilling out of your glass as your eyes grow wide with excitement about what she will tell you.

"We- uhm- We may or may not have slept together after the party last week," she admits with a broad smile, and you squeal in excitement at her confession. She and Bruce have been pining after one another for as long as you can remember, and hearing about this is a nice distraction from your thoughts about Tony for now. As the night goes on, he pops into your mind, and you and Natasha drop his name occasionally, but it is mostly about her this time.

The next day, you feel a sense of relief in your entire body when you're back in the Quinjet, knowing you're finally going home to see Tony - and the rest of the Avengers - again. While Natasha is in the back, changing from her tac gear into some leggings and an oversized hoodie, you're supposed to pilot for the next few hours.

"I'm back. Do you want to get changed as well? And maybe make a phone call to the Tower?" she asks with a raised brow and a smirk, making you smile as you nod. You told her that when you're on the way back, you wanted to call Tony to let him know you're coming home and hear his voicemail, but you couldn't answer him sooner.

Within no time, you're also changed into a pair of leggings, a sports bra, and one of Tony's MIT hoodies, which you stole from him a while ago after you got cold in his lab. He never asked for it back since he loves the way it looks on you, and you're happy to wear it, as he has worn it to perfection. Then, it's time for your phone call.

Instead of calling the way you normally would, you decide to FaceTime him, as you really need to see his face after your mission. Back at the Compound, Tony is working in his lab when his ringtone fills the silence, and he quickly grabs his phone. Seeing your name on the screen makes him smile wide.

"Sugarcube! You're alive!" he says, and you immediately laugh loudly at the nickname, which makes the butterflies in his stomach go wild as the sound fills his lab.

"How're you, Tony? I heard your voicemail a few days ago, but I couldn't call or text you because we were so remote. I tried multiple times, but none of it went through," you tell him, and you see a wave of sadness come over his face.

"Honestly? I haven't been doing so well without you here. When I learned you were gone for a mission, I didn't really take it that well," he says with a sigh, and it's only now that you notice the dark circles and bags under his eyes, letting you know he hasn't slept much.

"Thankfully, Bruce was here for me; he kept me sane. And he gave me plenty of coffee as well," Tony says, making you smile at the thought that even though you weren't there, he still had someone to lean on in the meantime.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Petal, but I want you to know I'm proud of you for getting through it. I'm sure it must have been hell for you," you tell him, and he blushes at the praise he's receiving from you. He always enjoys being praised, but hearing it from you suddenly makes him feel something entirely different, which he stores away for now, as he wants to explore it with you eventually.

"It's okay. I'm glad to know you're alive and well, though. I missed having you around," he says, and you smile at his words. You missed being there, too, as it's never the same without Tony when you're anywhere but at the Compound.

"I can't wait to see you again soon, Sugarplum. We should land in about 5,5 to 6 hours, so I'm expecting to see you there," you say, and he agrees. Then, you two say your goodbyes after he tells you he'll be waiting by the hangar. You'll be looking forward to it the entire time you're in the air, and your heart is warming at the thought of seeing him again.

The rest of the flight goes by without a hitch, and—just like you asked—Tony is waiting for you at the opening of the hangar, ready to welcome you home after he couldn't stop thinking about you for the past week. The dark circles under his eyes have intensified with his lack of sleep. He's been practically living on two hours of sleep a night and endless cups of coffee, which has your heart sinking into your stomach at the sight.

"Hi, Sweetpea," you say as you reach Tony, who gives you a small smile and looks at you in his hoodie.

"Welcome back," he says, pulling you in for a hug without saying anything else. Your presence is everything he needs and more at this moment. He nuzzles his face into your hair, the softness of it calming his mind as your hands trace abstract figures over his back. Neither of you knows how long it lasts, but you enjoy every second.

"I have to go and shower, Tony. When I'm done, can I visit you in your lab?"

He looks at you with an adoring look, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he does. Your cheeks heat at how he's looking at you, but you're also enjoying the butterflies in your stomach going wild under his gaze.

"I'm looking forward to it," he whispers as his fingertips glide over your cheek, where he desperately wants to place a kiss. However, he'd have to wait for that because little does he know you'll be kissing him soon enough. Once you're back in your room, you take your time to wash away all the dirt that was left from the mission, making yourself presentable for the man you love.

And then, it's finally time to see him, so you can finally talk about the kiss you two shared a week ago, which has turned your lives around in a way you could have only ever dreamt of. As you're slipping into one of Tony's shirts and a pair of leggings, you think about the moment you shared, and you feel the excitement coursing through your veins, hoping you'll finally kiss him again.

Your knuckles softly knock on the glass leading to his lab, and Tony turns around from his place at the kitchen counter, two cups in his hands as he does. Perfect timing.

"I made your favorite, Bubblegum," he says, and you raise your brow at the nickname, trying not to laugh at it. It sounds like he just made you bubblegum tea instead of using it as a nickname. You can't fight the smile wanting to escape, though, and you shake your head as you take the cup with a small 'thank you.'

"Would you believe me if I said you have been on my mind almost every second of every day when you were away?" Tony starts the conversation, and your interest is piqued. He has also been taking over your mind; you're not afraid to admit it.

"I most definitely would. But you have been on my mind a lot as well," you confess, which has him looking at you with an interested gaze.

"Oh?"

"Did you ever think about that drunken kiss we shared?" you ask in a wave of boldness, unable to wait any longer to talk about it. The question hangs in the air as Tony's eyes widen in surprise, and you pull your lip between your teeth in anticipation of his answer. To be truthful, it was all he could think about when you were gone, even going so far as pleasuring himself to the thought of kissing you, but that would be a secret he'd never share with anyone.

"Oh my god, yes! I've been waiting for that kiss from the moment I laid my eyes on you," he says with a breathy laugh, which has your eyebrows practically in your hair at the confession. Combined with that, there's some confusion, as you need clarification on what he's talking about. While you have a suspicion, you're also hesitant about thinking he might feel the same way you do about him.

While you're still standing at the counter, Tony puts his mug on one of the tables in his lab before walking over to you, caging you between his arms as a soft gasp escapes your lips. When he's this close, your height difference is obvious, and you're squeezing your thighs together for the slightest bit of friction as your panties are ruined from this simple move.

"Tony-" It's all you can say because other than that, practically every single thought has left your brain at the closeness of his face to yours. His breath is ghosting over his lips as he talks; his eyes are looking directly into your soul at this point, and you could melt into a puddle of goo right then and there if it weren't for the fact that you're still holding a cup of hot tea.

"I've been waiting for that kiss because I love you, Silly. I love you in a romantic and platonic way - like friends love one another - but also like lovers. You have been taking over my mind for the better part of the past few years, and ever since we kissed, since I had a taste of heaven, it's been all-consuming. I love you, Y/N, and I want you to know it. For years, I've been afraid to tell you, afraid it would ruin what we have, but I'm sick of tucking my feelings away."

"And ever since that kiss, there's nothing else I've wanted more than to kiss you again. To feel your lips on mine and your body pressed against me. Your hands laced in my hair as our tongues fight for dominance, and most of all, I want to hear those sweet, soft sounds you make," he tells you, and it takes a moment for you to comprehend what he told you. The fact that he confessed his undying love.

The next few moments go so fast that you're not sure how they happened because one moment, you were holding your tea as you looked at the man you love, and the next, your hands are laced in his hair as his mouth is capturing yours again, the kiss being everything you've been dreaming of and more, as well. His hands squeeze your hips as his cock rapidly grows hard in his pants, the need for you taking over his entire brain and functioning.

As you tilt your head a little, a soft moan escapes your lips, and Tony can't help but smile into the kiss at the sweet sound. The moment feels like it's lasting forever, and you're panting when you need to pull away for air. Your eyes are half-lidded as you look up at him, a dopey smile on your lips as you admire his beauty for a moment.

"I- uhm-" you say, a giggle escaping as you gather your thoughts.

"I love you too, Tony, like a friend and a lover," you tell him, and the deep laugh from Tony has the butterflies in your stomach going wild. You pull him closer this time, your hands cupping his cheeks as you close the gap, needing to feel his lips on yours again, even if it's just for a moment. When he pulls away, he finally gathers the courage to ask you something on his mind for a long time, but he never dared to ask.

"Go on a date with me, Pookiebear. I want to show you how a true gentleman can take care of you, and after… well, I guess we'll see what happens," he says with a wink, which sets your cheeks on fire. You nod, pulling your lip between your teeth as you try not to smile like a teenage girl who'd just been kissed by the boy she's been crushing on.

Then, just as you're about to say something, you hear a whirring noise behind Tony, which piques your interest. You peek your head around his broad back, and that's where you see one of his robots, Dum-E, making his way toward you with a small bouquet of red roses, and your heart melts at the sight.

"Thank you, Dum-E. These roses are beautiful," you say as you take them from him, and Tony shakes his head with a smile. His robot's timing is entirely off, but the thought behind it counts. After a few more moments, you have to go to the debriefing of the mission, but you're happily taking both the roses and the tea with you, but not before asking for more kisses with a broad smile.

"I can't wait to pick you up tonight, Dollface. It will be the best night of our lives," he says as he watches you go, a small wave coming from you through the large windows by the staircase that leads you away from Tony. On your way to the briefing room, you run into Natasha, eyeing your roses with a curious look.

"You just kiss a guy, and he gifts you roses, and I sleep with someone and not even so much as a single flower? I need to up my standards when it comes to men!" she jokes, making you laugh heartily as she does. You know Bruce knows how to treat a woman, and you don't doubt he's treating her like the queen she is.

"Well, I guess I'm just lucky like that," you say with a wink, which isn't untrue with a man like Tony. However, neither of you knows that Tony and Bruce have been planning a surprise for the two of you tonight, and they're looking forward to your reactions when it's time to see what you think.

The debriefing you two are attending with Steve - he has been holding down the fort from the Compound while you were in the field - is finished perfectly on time for you to get ready for your date with Tony. You're getting nervous and impatient, constantly checking the clock to see if it's time to go out for dinner. When it's nearing 7 PM, you're becoming excited as you wait for the elevator to come and pick you up.

You decide to put on a sleek, deep red gown that perfectly shows your curves. Your hair and makeup are kept simple so as not to take away from your natural beauty combined with the outfit. When the elevator doors open, you're standing eye to eye with Natasha, who has also prepared for the surprise Bruce and Tony prepared, though neither of you knows it yet.

"You look stunning tonight, Petarda," you say as you admire Natasha's outfit. A black velvet dress reaches the floor, her hair is put up in a simple ponytail that has her natural waves showing, and her makeup is done so that her features are accentuated beautifully, making her look like a goddess. You're sure Bruce won't be able to stop looking at her for the entirety they're going on their date.

"So do you, Detka; Tony is fortunate to be going out with you when you're looking like that," she says as she rests her hand on your arm, reassuring you. If you two growing up together has taught her anything, you can always use extra support when nerves are swirling through your body, and you're more grateful than ever to be by the side of the famous Black Widow.

"Thank you," you whisper, a blush warming your cheeks at her compliment. Then, the elevator stops and opens, revealing that Tony and Bruce are already waiting for you both to arrive, and they're not disappointed when they look over to the two of you. To them, it seems like two angels are walking on earth, and they're both going out with them for the night, making it one never to forget.

As you and Natasha walk over to your dates, they have to take a moment to pick their jaws up from the floor, as they have dropped from the moment the doors open.

"I- You- Fucking wow," Tony stammers as he lays his hand on your lower back, the warmth of his hand radiating onto your skin, which is showing through the low-cut back of the dress you're wearing. A soft kiss on your temple follows it, and Bruce and Natasha share a loving kiss, which sets their cheeks on fire, making them look adorable.

"Are you two ready?" Bruce asks when he finally manages to pull himself away from his date, and you're giving him a confused look at his choice of words.

"We have prepared a double date for tonight, Sweet Apple," Tony tells you, which has you smiling broadly and going on a date with your best friend and two handsome men. You would be insane to say no to that. Shortly after, you're all getting into the limousine Tony has brought out for the night, Happy being the driver of your night.

Once seated in the limousine, Tony immediately opens a bottle of the most expensive champagne he could get, handing everyone a glass before lifting his, toasting to a fun night with friends. The laughter that can be heard the entire ride fills your heart with warmth and love as these people make it memorable beyond words.

"Take my hand, Babydoll," Tony says as you've arrived at the restaurant, where - to no one's surprise - paparazzi are taking photos everywhere. It's a hotspot for celebrities and other wealthy or well-known people, meaning it is constantly crawling with cameras and flashing lights. Then, as all four of you are ready, Tony laces his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he guides you inside.

Dinner is spent in a private room, where you, Tony, Bruce, and Natasha can have some privacy while you enjoy your night out. Between the delicious food, plenty of laughter, and sweet moments with Tony as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, you're also holding hands underneath the table, which calms your nerves during the evening.

Bruce and Natasha also share sweet moments, such as kisses, feeding each other bites of their food, and having a good time overall, which makes you happy to see. If there's anyone who deserves to find love, it's Natasha, especially seeing how her life hasn't always been the easiest. Seeing her this happy and comfortable makes you feel proud of her, and you couldn't be happier to call you her best friend.

After dinner, when you're back at Avengers Tower, Bruce and Natasha quickly say their goodbyes before slipping away to his room, undoubtedly finishing the night off with fireworks, and you are hoping to do the same after the night you shared with Tony.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Tony asks as you're standing in the elevator that leads up to his penthouse, his body caging in yours as you're gently pushed against the wall with his face mere inches from yours. His breath ghosts over your lips as the question hangs in the air, and you nod, though you'd much rather kiss him than answer him with words right now.

Your hands glide into his hair as you pull him closer; the gap between you two now disappears as your mouth is locked with his in a hot, passionate kiss. Tony's fingers dig into your hips as the kiss becomes all-consuming in the best way possible, a fire inside your body roaring higher with every passing second. Until the elevator bell rings, letting you know you've arrived at Tony's penthouse.

With a chuckle, Tony pulls back, his forehead resting against yours. The moment has changed from a heated one to a funny, sweet one, and you both laugh while getting out of the elevator and into his large penthouse. You're trying to look at everything all at once, as you have never been here before, which is quite surprising when you think about it, but that would have to be a train of thought for another day.

"Would you like another drink?" Tony asks, but you shake your head. You only want him now, and you're not planning to wait any longer than you must. Based on the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Tony has the same thought and doesn't want to wait, instead showing you the way to his large bedroom. There are floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the Manhattan skyline, showing New York City from a viewpoint you've rarely seen before.

"It's so beautiful," you say to Tony, who couldn't agree more. But he isn't talking about the view, of course.

His hands are on your waist as he stands behind you, your eyes slipping shut at the feeling of his large body against yours. Tony's lips place soft kisses on your head as you enjoy the closeness, but you want more. You want Tony. In a moment of boldness, you turn around as you step back enough to sink onto your knees, the carpet under your knees making it more comfortable. But it's not good enough for Tony.

"Here, put this under your knees, Cupcake," Tony says as he grabs a throw pillow, handing it to you as you try your hardest not to laugh. One moment, you were on your way to open his pants and suck his soul from his body, and now you're being offered a pillow to put under your knees, as he doesn't want you to sit on the floor like this. Tony is nothing if not a gentleman, and it only makes you love him more.

Once the pillow has found its place and you're comfortable, you reach for his belt, unbuckling it easily before popping the button and lowering the zipper. Then, you pull down his pants to reveal a glorious sight: Tony's cock is already half hard, the blue veins adorning it making it look delicious as they lead to the soft, pink tip that has you wanting to wrap your lips around it, needing a taste of him. On top of that, the length already has your mouth watering, and it's not even at its full potential yet, but what's grabbing your interest most of all is the thickness of it.

"Y-you're so… big," you tell him from your spot on the floor, and Tony can feel his cheeks heating as he blushes profusely at the compliment. Your hand can barely fit around it as you touch it for the first time, and a moan bubbles up at the feeling of his velvet skin, which is a stark contrast to the way his cock slowly firms up to total hardness under your touch.

"Hmm, you feel so good," Tony groans as he pulls up his dress shirt, giving him the perfect look at what you're doing. Your fingers gently work his cock from root to tip, as if you're trying to acquaint yourself with every inch of it, wanting to commit it to memory before wrapping your lips around his tip. When you do that, a whole new world opens for you and Tony, a feeling of euphoria running through your entire body as you do.

A deep groan rolls off his tongue as you slowly work more of him into your mouth, your thighs clenching as you do to give yourself some much-needed relief as well. The way you fit around him, the warmth of your mouth, has him on the edge sooner than he'd like. His hand gently guides you off his cock, and you pout when he slips from your mouth, a disappointed look on your features as you look up at him.

"Don't you dare use that pout on me, Missy, because you're not gonna know what hit you if you do," he says in a warning tone, and you're suddenly very eager to find out what'll happen if you do, but you're also too horny to worry about it for too long. It would have to wait for another moment, as you're more than happy to be filled with his cock in any of the holes he pleases to use tonight.

It doesn't take long for you and Tony to shed every last layer of clothing aside from your lingerie, and he's having a field day with every bit of clothing that falls from your body. With every inch of skin he reveals, he finds more tattoos that amaze him than the last. From simple flowers to larger, intricate patterns, it's all adorning your skin, and Tony feels nothing short of fortunate to be able to see them, as you usually hide them for professional reasons.

"I didn't think you could be more beautiful, but fuck, seeing all this artwork on your soft skin only makes you look like more of a work of art in my eyes, Gorgeous," Tony whispers as his fingers glide over the phoenix that reaches from your ribs and side down to your upper thigh, covering most of the skin with its feathers.

"If you like my tattoos this much, I can't wait to see your reaction when you find out another special secret, Tony," you say as you sit on Tony's lap, his back pressed against the headboard of the bed. You lean forward to mark small markings on his neck and shoulder and nibble on his earlobe.

"Hmm, I can't wait to see what it is," he says, and you smile against his jaw, the scruff of his facial hair tickling you as you place a few kisses there. When you pull back, you wiggle your brows in excitement and tease him a little, wanting to stretch the moment for as long as possible.

"If you remove my bra, you'll see what it is soon enough, Handsome," you whisper, and he doesn't need to be told twice. Within mere seconds, the fabric has been removed, and Tony's jaw is again on the floor as he tries to comprehend what he sees. As soon as his gaze falls on the small, silver rings adorning your nipples, his cock twitches underneath you, almost at the point of orgasm without needing stimulation as his mind goes wild at the sight.

But that's not all. You also have a small tattoo of Tony's helmet on your side, which was hidden by the band of your bra before. It's a full-color version of his helmet, surrounded by your favorite flowers. You got it a while ago as a joke after you lost a bet with Natasha, never really thinking he would see it, but now that he does, he can't stop smiling at the sight.

"Is that-" "Yes."

"I can't believe you have my helmet tattooed on your body, Firecracker! God, I didn't know you could get any more beautiful and special and amazing, but you just did, and fuck, I'm even more in love with you now!" he exclaims as he pulls you close, making you laugh heartily. For a moment, you were scared about what he would possibly think of it, but his reaction is even better than you could have hoped for, and you now realize you never should have been afraid to begin with.

Then, without warning, Tony flips you onto your back before pushing your panties aside, not wanting to wait any longer to be buried inside you. The stretch of Tony's long, thick cock is more than you have ever felt before, and even if he isn't fully inside you yet, it feels like you're already stuffed to the brim as your moans become nearly uncontrollable, your mind going blank and fuzzy with every passing second.

"So tight, Babygirl, feels so fucking good," Tony whispers in your ear as he slowly starts thrusting in and out of you, stretching you with the patience of a saint. Your back arches into him repeatedly, and the feeling of his chest against yours has you moaning softly, the closeness being something you're craving more with every thrust. Then, Tony reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he places it above your head.

His lips capture yours as he finally bottoms out after taking his time stretching you. The warmth of his body and the soft hum of his arc reactor is a beautiful addition to the moment, making it even more intimate. He noses softly along your jaw as he lets his cock settle inside you for a while longer, your pussy still holding him with a tight grip.

"Hmmm, I'm so lucky to have fallen in love with you, Y/N," Tony whispers as his face is inches from yours. His eyes are focused on yours, and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips at his confession. It feels nothing short of right to confess your love for one another at every chance, as you've already dreamed of doing it for years.

"I love you too, Tony, now please make love to me; you're driving me crazy if you don't move soon," you plead with him, and he gives in to your pleas. The first stroke has you clenching around him again, and a breathy chuckle slips from his lips this time.

"If you want me to make love, you have to relax a bit, Little Mouse," he says, and you giggle at the nickname. It feels so out of place, yet so right at the same time, and it has precisely the required effect; you're relaxing, and he takes his time to make love to you. Seconds feel like hours as your breaths mingle and your pussy is taking him over and over again as if it's a dance that has your bodies moving in a beautiful rhythm.

Your free hand roams over his broad back, your nails digging into the scarred skin as the pleasure builds inside you, and he groans at the feeling as it adds to his pleasure as well. You're squeezing him as he is on the edge, too, wanting nothing more than to fall over the edge together.

"I-I'm close, Sweet Girl," Tony grunts as you dig your nails into a delightful spot for him, and your moans are also becoming more irregular as you're on the brink of your orgasm, needing a few more strokes in the right spot to get you there. Sweat adorns your body when Tony does precisely that, and you squeeze his cock like a vice as you cum with a shout of his name, your back arching into him as your gaze is focused on him.

"Fucking fuck! Oh, you feel so- fuck- amazing," Tony exclaims as his orgasm washes over him, his balls emptying deep inside you with a few last sloppy strokes. Your first time with Tony was nothing short of amazing, and after a soft whine, as he pulled out, you showed a broad smile at the thought of everything that just happened.

"Shall we take a bath together?" Tony asks after he manages to catch his breath again. You nod before pulling him close, capturing his lips in a passionate, loving kiss that sends your heart into overdrive from excitement. Then, Tony quickly runs a bath before grabbing some fruit from his fridge - the sight of him walking around butt naked has you giggling like a teenager again, and Tony can't help but smile at you.

The bath water perfectly soothes your sore muscles, and the scent of roses surrounds you as Tony joins you in the bath. The foam makes way for his body as he gets comfortable across from you. As you two share a bowl of watermelon pieces in silence, you can't stop smiling as your dream has come true. You've slept with the man of your dreams, and he's a true gentleman as he massages your sore legs.

"I love you, Y/N," Tony tells you as he works his magic on your calves.

"Being with you makes me feel happier than I have in a long time, and I realize that I have something worth living for and someone worth coming home to. That being said, what would you think of officially becoming my girlfriend? I should let you know; it does mean I won't let you go, ever," he quips, making you laugh heartily at his words. Being Tony's girlfriend sounds like heaven; you can't wait to tell everyone about it.

"I would love nothing more, Boyfriend," you say with a wink, and Tony smiles from ear to ear, the twinkle in his eyes giving away his excitement at the new nickname. That night, you sleep over at his penthouse, both still bare as you fall asleep in his arms. It's some of the best sleep you've had in a long time, and you're already looking forward to more of these same nights together.

The following morning, you're being woken by a combination of soft kisses all over your bare skin and the sun illuminating your boyfriend's bedroom in a golden hue, and you couldn't possibly think of a better way to start your day. A soft hum escapes as you turn onto your back, and Tony smiles as his lips keep tracing a path over your smooth skin down to his ultimate goal.

"Good morning, Angel," he whispers as he reaches your belly button, his eyes looking up to meet yours with a gaze that sets your insides on fire in the best way possible. Eventually, after he is done with his teasing, he buries his face between your thighs, giving you the perfect start of the day by gifting you a mind-blowing orgasm, and you haven't even had breakfast yet.

"Hmmm, this is a good way to wake up," you murmur after he crawls back up, capturing your lips with his as you taste your arousal on his lips and tongue. Then, it's finally time to get up and grab some breakfast. You put on one of Tony's oversized dress shirts, which is long enough to cover everything it needs to, and Tony is dressed in nothing but a pair of tight sweatpants as you two go down to have breakfast together.

As you're in the communal kitchen, you're sitting on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you watch Tony make some delicious pancakes - just like he has done countless times before for you. While they're usually reserved for when you come back from a mission, he decided to make them now as well, all while he keeps stealing more kisses from you.

Once the entire stack is finished, he comes to stand between your legs, and you wrap them around his waist, pulling yourself to the edge as his fingers dig into your thighs at the closeness of your body to his. Your hands are laced in his hair while your lips are locked in a passionate kiss, and you overlook that you now have an audience. Only when Natasha clears her throat do you pull away and look at the Avengers with a deep red blush on your cheeks, which Tony matches.

"Mornin', Lovebirds," she says with a wink before grabbing herself some breakfast, and you burst out into a fit of laughter at the fact that you've been caught in the act of kissing your boyfriend in front of everyone. However, over time, they definitely will get used to the level of PDA you and Tony share, quickly becoming the new normal.

It was only a matter of months before Tony proposed to you, and within a year of you and Tony becoming official, you're also officially Mrs. Stark. At first, you couldn't stop addressing each other as your fiancé/fiancée after his proposal, but when you married, you'd happily tell everyone you knew that Tony was your husband. To top it all off, you can now give each other the perfect nicknames - the tradition of giving each other silly and weird nicknames has continued through it all - as you're expecting your first baby.

"Hi, Daddy," you whisper to Tony as he caresses your belly, which has grown exponentially since you learned about the little one growing there.

"Good morning, Mommy. I can't wait for this little nugget in here to call you Mommy as well," Tony says, and you smile as you rub your belly alongside him. You can't wait for that moment to be here, either, but first, you're going to enjoy every second you can of them being small, as they only stay that way for a short period.

"I love you, Tony; I can't imagine my life without you, and I have to say, I've never been more grateful for a game of Truth or Dare in my life," you say, referencing the moment that started it all. Not many moments will top that night, but you definitely owe it all to Natasha, who has been by your side and couldn't be prouder of you and your husband.

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glossdebut · 17 days

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Take a Bite Ch. 3

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: yoongi being RICH. also... remember that eventual smut? well it's kind of here! if you wanna skip, stop reading at [Maybe you should fix that.] and then continue at [After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach...]

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi i normally post on wednesdays but we're about to get a HURRICANE where i'm at so i'm posting early lmfao. rating goes up in this chapter whoops! not sure when chapter 4 will be posted but i'll keep you guys updated. thank you all so much for the engagement i've been receiving on this fic!!! it's my first one ever and i never expected to get so many readers so quickly <3 you guys are keeping me writing so please feel free to send me feedback if you like this chapter. i'd love to read it if i have power over the next few days LOL

Chapter 3: I Wanna Fold Clothes For You

So, you and Yoongi are friends.

Of course, seeing him three times within twenty four hours was a fluke, and over the next six days you don’t see him once, not even in passing in your shared hallway. You’re not privy to his work hours, but you know based on what little he’s told you that working as a producer demands more than the normal nine to five, as does your job.

Still, there’s something about coming home every night and knowing that you have a friend right down the hall, if you need one. You haven’t had that in a long time, and you feel so much lighter now that you do have it.

There is, of course, an upside to not being able to see Yoongi often. Given that you’ve only just met him, you don’t have his appearance committed to memory quite yet, and mercifully, you’re beginning to forget why you were so viscerally attracted to him in the first place.

You reason that it must’ve been the alcohol. You were getting drunk when you met him, stupidly drunk when you discovered that you’re neighbors, hungover when you shared a tangerine, and drinking from a bottomless glass of wine (courtesy of Seokjin) when you drooled over his hands for a solid ten minutes. You have yet to interact with Yoongi clear-headed and lucid. Not to mention you’re just a little bit… pent up, recently. Drunk and horny Y/N had the wheel. That has to be it. Nobody is that hot. You’re sure of that. Men ain’t special!

So you go through your week business as usual, but with a slight spring in your step, and it’s lovely. You even venture way further away from the office for your lunch hour on Friday than you normally would to go to a restaurant you’ve been dying to try. You’re usually so tied to the office that the furthest you tend to go is the convenience store down the street for the instant stuff.

And then, since the universe demands correction (or overcorrection where you’re concerned), all of the floaty goodness comes to a screeching halt when you get in your car to head back to the office. Your car which, in the past hour you’ve been blissfully stuffing your face with tteokbokki, has decided it has done its job and is ready to retire.

It just straight up won’t start.

Sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant, you go into crisis management mode.

You’re thankfully not completely clueless where cars are concerned. It comes with the territory of owning a beater. You keep up with your oil changes, you don’t leave the lights on when you get home late. You replaced your battery semi-recently, so that shouldn’t be it. Unfortunately, you don’t have much time to troubleshoot. You need to get back to work. Okay… Damage control, then.

The most obvious solution is to call one of your coworkers to come and rescue you, but your coworkers are just as notorious for being tethered within a one mile radius of the office as you are, so that would more than likely end up being a waste of time. You could find the nearest bus stop, but who knows how long public transportation could take right now? Too unpredictable. You could call your boss and tell him that you’re not going to be back to the office anytime soon (or at all today) and get your car towed and repaired. But then you would suddenly have a reputation of being unreliable, because god forbid you have a human moment. That’s straight up not an option. You’ve been doing so good this week.

You’re sure there are other options. But isn’t this what friends are for?

He answers on the fifth ring, but he answers.

“Y/N?”

“Yoongi.” You feel your shoulders slump in relief. You try your best not to sound as panicked as you feel. “Are you busy?”

“Um. I’m at the studio,” he says, confusion in his voice. “But I have a minute. Is everything okay?” Confusion and concern? That’s nice.

“Everything’s fine!” you blurt out. “Okay, maybe not. My car won’t start! I don’t know why, but it won’t, and I need to get back to work, but you’re at work, too! I don’t even know where you work, but I doubt it’s anywhere near where I am, and even if it is, I don’t want to tear you away from anything important—”

“Y/N.”

“—I know you said you had a minute, but I really don’t want to fuck up your flow. That’s a term, right? You’re a producer, you… flow. Anyway, I just don’t really know anyone here and I didn’t know who to call, and if I don’t get back to work soon my boss is going to kill me—”

“Y/N,” he says, more firmly. Your mouth snaps shut. “Where are you?”

“In my car,” you say dumbly, frazzled.

Yoongi sighs. “Send me your location.”

“For what?”

“I’m gonna send a car to come get you and drive you to your office,” he says, and he sounds just the slightest bit exasperated about needing to explain that to you.

Send a car? What the fuck? You have so many questions, such as: how fucking loaded is the guy who lives two doors down from you in your very shitty apartment building? What label does he even work for? How famous of a producer is he to be able to send a car to you? But your immediate instinct to turn down his help wins out over asking any of them.

“What? Yoongi, no, that’s too much,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I just freaked out a little bit, I can–”

“Y/N,” he interrupts. If you’re not mistaken, it sounds a bit like he’s trying not to laugh at you. Fucker. “Location.”

So you send him your location. What other option do you have?

“You’re not far,” Yoongi says once he receives your text. A few moments pass, and then: “Car will be there in ten.”

“Thank you,” you say. You feel nauseous, like maybe you’re going to cry, but there’s also a good amount of relief there, too. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need,” he says. “I’d come get you myself, but I really can’t get away right now.”

“Still, there’s a comically large bottle of an alcohol of your choosing in your future. Seriously, thank you.”

His responding laugh is enough to settle your stomach just a little. “Seriously, you don’t need to pay me back…” A pause. “But for the record, I like whiskey.”

You wrinkle your nose even though he can’t see it. “Gross.”

“Don’t be a hater.”

“As long as you don’t make me drink it with you, I’ll keep my comments to myself,” you say, finding yourself smiling.

“Oh, you think I share?” Yoongi teases back. He sighs again. “I really have to go.”

“Go, go,” you say. “Thanks for saving me. Even if it’s by proxy.”

“You can always call me if you need shit like this,” he says. You can tell that he means it. “I’m glad you called me. Means I’m doing something right.”

“You are,” you say, your voice soft. Your cheeks feel warm. Probably because you’re sitting in a dead car. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hums in response. “Text me when you get back to the office safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye, Yoongi.”

And that’s that.

★ ★ ★

True to your word, you text Yoongi when the stupidly luxurious car he ordered for you drops you off at your office, only ten minutes later than you’re due back from your lunch break. You’re able to slip in without anyone noticing that you’re late at all, which is great. Crisis partially averted.

He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and then decides to drop the bomb that he intends to pay for your car to be towed.

[1:21] You: YOONGI NO

[1:21] You: you can’t do that!!!!

[1:24] Yoongi: 100% I can and will as soon as I get ten minutes to make a phone call to sort it out.

The audacity of this man.

[1:25] You: seriously i cannot ask you to do that

[1:25] You: i was just going to take the bus back to the restaurant after work and deal with it from there. i’m actively researching towing companies and repair places on company time as we speak

[1:30] Yoongi: You’re not asking me. You’ve got enough to worry about. Let me take care of it. I know the places.

[1:31] You: still, i can’t let you spend money like that on me. i don’t even wanna think about what that car cost you

[1:31] Yoongi: If it helps you sleep at night you can pay me back on your own time. You definitely don’t have to though.

[1:32] Yoongi: That reminds me. You can use that car until yours is taken care of if you need to. I’ll send you the driver’s contact. Don’t take the bus.

You feel like you’re going insane.

[1:33] You: do you have a grammy or something? what do you DO to be able to afford shit like this? why do you live in our building? are you a drug dealer?

[1:37] Yoongi: :]

Of course, he gives you no clues about what exactly he does, but after a bit more back-and-forth, you finally give in and let Yoongi handle everything under the condition that you’re going to pay him back. He doesn’t seem all that worried about it, which infuriates you just a little.

You go through the rest of your day like normal, if not a tad twitchy. Come quitting time, you take advantage of having a driver at your disposal and have him stop a liquor store on your way home.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, comically large whiskey bottle (as promised) in tow, you text Yoongi and ask if he’s home yet. At his responding ‘No, why?’ you cackle to yourself and pocket your phone. The elevator doors slide open. You were hoping that would be the case.

You clocked out at a semi-normal time tonight, a gift to yourself to cope with the stress of the day, and so you take great pleasure in setting the bottle down on Yoongi’s very tasteful cat doormat, flipping it off right back on your way into your own apartment.

You silently pray to whatever god may be listening that the whiskey isn’t swiped by someone before Yoongi gets home. Your cat, Pepper, is blinking at you lazily on the kitchen counter, and you give her a triumphant little scratch on the head before padding to your bedroom to deal with your laundry.

Your move, Min Yoongi.

★ ★ ★

“Do I need to be jealous?”

You take advantage of getting off work early to call your best friend Rina for the first time in what feels like forever. She’s in Paris this month, debuting a play that she’s been working on tirelessly about aliens and drug addiction. You’ve read the script six times over. It’s both campy and gut wrenching all at once, and you’ve cried every time. You picture her with her very chic haircut, sipping from a flute of champagne. The thought of her being jealous of any part of your life is laughable.

“What do you have to be jealous of, exactly?” you snort, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder as you toss your laundry basket upside down on your bed unceremoniously. Your clothes are covered in a perma-layer of Pepper hair, and you think it’s lucky that Pepper is a black cat and most of your clothes are black. Very enviable.

“Of Yoongi, dipshit,” she coos through the phone. “You’re replacing me.”

“Sure,” you say, like she’s making total sense. You’re lying on top of your laundry now instead of folding it. You put her on speakerphone and rest your phone on your chest. “I’m throwing away ten years of being your best friend for a guy that I met a week ago. I’m glad you figured it out, honestly, because I was dreading telling you. I was going to wait until your matinée, but you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“Of course. You have to do what’s right for you, I’ve always told you that,” she deadpans back, and you groan. You don’t want to hear it. “No, I just mean… It’s good. That you’re meeting people.”

“We’re neighbors,” you say, flopping over onto your front to rub at your temples. Rina is resting on a pile of your underwear now. “We talk about work. My work, not his, because he thinks it’s funny to act like he’s too cool to tell me about his job. He’s helping me with my car. We’re… neighborly.”

“And you want to fuck him,” she says. Maybe calling Rina was a bad idea. Debriefing over text would have sufficed.

“I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, indignant. “We’re friends. He’s nice. I can have a guy friend.”

“Of course you can,” Rina says, like you’re dumb for even thinking she would imply otherwise. “And you can be friends with him all you want. But you also want to fuck him.”

You groan in protest but she speaks over it.

“Baby, you can pretend, but I know how you talk about people you want to have sex with, even if you don’t say it outright,” she continues. “He may just be feeding you and helping you and talking to you about the weather, but I know you, and I know the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, letting your face drop into your laundry. It smells good. Small comforts.

“Are you going to let him?”

“No,” you whine, muffled by the cotton. “I don’t need that. There are always strings. I hate strings.”

“You said he’s a super straightforward, honest guy, right?” Rina asks.

“Brutally so,” you grumble.

“So. Maybe he’d be cool with a lack of strings. You won’t know unless you ask, baby.”

You want to tell her that’s easy for her to say, but you don’t want to fight with her when you know you won’t hear from her like this again for a while.

Rina has never compromised for anything. She decided in both of your sophomore year of college, after flirting with both performance and directing, that she wanted to be a playwright, and that was that.

She wrote and wrote and wrote, and after you graduated together, her career blossomed almost instantly because she worked goddamn hard for it. She got opportunities to travel and work with theatre companies around the world, and she took them without giving it a second thought because she knew it was what she wanted. And she’s had a consistent, loyal boyfriend nearly the whole time. He doesn’t always travel with her, but he supports her in everything she does. They’re excruciatingly healthy about it.

When your long-term college boyfriend dumped you unceremoniously two months into your first reporter gig because he felt he came second to your career, Rina was there for you. But you resented her a little bit. There was no way she could understand any of it.

Still, as much as you hate to admit it, she has a point. You could just ask Yoongi if he wants to fool around without it being a thing, and you know he’d give you a straight answer. You’re even pretty confident he wouldn’t make it weird if his answer was no. That’s not the problem. It never is.

“The problem isn’t whether or not I think he’d be cool with it,” you mumble. “The problem is if he is cool with it, and then the strings come anyway. The friendship is nice. I’m attracted to him, yeah, fine. But I can ignore it if it means I get to be his friend.”

Theres a long pause on the line, and then Rina sighs.

“Your life would be a lot easier if you could do one night stands,” she says.

Don’t you know it.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve gotta go, okay? Text me. Keep me updated on life.” You read between the lines. On Yoongi, she means. “I love you.”

“Mmmhh,” you mumble back, still burying your face into your laundry.

When the line disconnects, you feel considerably more twitchy and irritable than you did before talking to Rina.

So, you’re attracted to Yoongi. Or you were, when you were drunk and he was all… hot and considerate. That doesn’t mean you have to act on it! You’re not going to act on it. You’re just pent up, that’s all. It’s been a long time since you’ve had an orgasm, self-inflicted or otherwise, and you can’t think straight.

Maybe you should fix that.

It’s clear you’re giving up on laundry for the night, so you shove the mountain of clothes back into the basket on the floor, sighing as you lay back on your bed.

You feel only slightly ridiculous as you shimmy your sleep shorts down your thighs, your hands sliding up your shirt to cup your breasts, squeezing slightly. Warming yourself up.

You quickly decide to get to the point, though. You’re struggling to immerse yourself in the fantasy that usually does the trick, too wound up and embarrassed (as if it’s not you in here by yourself, as usual) at groping yourself.

Despite the embarrassment, it becomes abundantly clear that you didn’t really need to warm yourself up anyway. Your fingers slide through your folds with ease, drenched like you’ve been that way all fucking day, unbeknownst to you, and a surprised moan falls from your lips. Fuck.

Closing your eyes, you circle two fingers around your clit experimentally, making your hips jerk up under you, sensitive. You do it again, a little firmer, starting a slow rhythm that makes you squirm against your mattress, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

It feels good. It usually does—you’ve always been able to make quick work of an orgasm to rid yourself of any lingering jitters before bed. But it feels really good right now, your pussy extra sensitive tonight, and you can’t figure out why. There’s nothing new about what you’re doing.

Rina’s words worm their way into your brain uninvited—the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him—and you’re too turned on to stop that train of thought, flashes of capable hands and pink tongue (tonguetechnologytonguetechnologytonguetechnology) filling your mind, and you’re moaning softly despite yourself as you rub your clit a little faster.

You continue to make soft noises of pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, dry from panting as the barrage of Yoongi-related thoughts keep coming, bringing you closer and closer to your release.

Dark, dark eyes looking down at you. A delicate chain dangling above your face. You whimper, your fingers sliding down from your clit to sink into your pussy, curling up to rub at your inner walls. A thick cock sliding into you, filling you so deliciously.

You pump your fingers fast and desperate as you get closer and closer to that sweet edge. You wonder what Yoongi would sound like if he was the one fucking into you right now. Would he moan in your ear in that gravelly voice of his? He’s a man of few words. Would he be like that in bed, too? Would he call you sweet names? Not so sweet? Which ones?

Your walls flutter around your fingers, your hips stuttering up off the mattress as your orgasm crashes over you and you gasp out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You stare up at the ceiling for a minute panting. The high of your release buzzes pleasantly through your body before it starts ebbing away, but the thoughts of Yoongi pervade. Well, fuck.

After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach to grab a towel from your laundry basket and wipe off your fingers, tossing it on the floor. You grab your phone, only to be greeted by a notification from the subject of your masturbation fantasy himself. He sent it about ten minutes ago.

When you tap it open, you’re greeted with a photo (!!!) of Yoongi holding your gift next to his head, the hand wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle almost dwarfed by its sheer size. A testament to the ridiculousness of it, because you’re well aware of how long Yoongi’s fingers are. There’s a lazy smirk on his face, and a mole that you’re just now noticing on his right cheek.

[8:23] Yoongi: Cute.

Yep. Yep. Cool.

You swipe out, tapping on Rina’s contact.

[8:35] You: okay. i want to fuck him.

[8:35] Rina: 🥂🥳🎉

Shit.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro

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#take a bite #bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi smut #minors dni #Spotify

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eatmeandbirthmeagain · 3 months

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Hii,can I request a baldwin one shot ? Where his lady love is pregnant and he is cured from leprosy ? And he wins a tournament for her. You know where would men would get favours from their ladies and fight with a really long stick and the one who falls from the hoarse first losses ? Like in Merlin and House of Dragon . He always shows her off proudly to everyone like the good husband he is. With lots of fluff. I really need some (a lot of) baldwin fluff .He is the only one I've been thinking 24/7 .My man deserved so much better like a significant other and so much love,adoration,etc.😭 Not mfcking Guy or his nonsense . I love your writing so much. When I read your work I feel like I'm living it. By the way congrats for surviving the exams. Sending lots of love <3 💗💗💗.

♡ All For You - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

A/N: Hello Anon! First of all, I am so sorry that it has taken so long to get to this beautiful request 😭. Second, thank you so much for your kind words, I'm so glad you love my work and thank you for your well-wishes <3 !! I hope this is what you had in mind for the one shot! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

PS: I hate Guy too, Anon 😭

TW: Mentions of Cured Leprosy

It had been six months since the king's disease, that was almost certain to be his end, had been cured by a newly discovered, deep sea plant.

His recovery had been a pleasant surprise to all, but none more than his beloved wife. Y/n was completely overjoyed to have her beautiful husband free of pain for the first time in years.

He himself was in tears with joy the day that he could feel her touch for the first time as sensation returned to his body.

As soon as the last traces of terrible disease had left his body, the king and queen wasted no time in starting a family.

The experience of his illness had taught them both that life was far too short and precious to waste. So not even a month after he was cured, it was announced to the public that the queen of Jerusalem was pregnant with the king's first born.

Since reclaiming his body and health, Baldwin had indulged himself in all kinds of activities, sports, and hobbies that he had missed out on in his years of weakness.

Years of barely being strong enough to get out of bed every day had left him pining for physical activity. One of the sports he had taken great intrest in was jousting.

He had developed a love for the sport since reading about it in a French book when he was younger, but deep down knowing he would never be well enough to play. Until now.

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

“My love! My love! I have something to show you!” Baldwin called, practically tripping over himself as he rushed into the royal chambers.

“Easy darling, don't hurt yourself” y/n said as he approached her with the biggest smile on his once, yet no longer, mottled face. “Look at this!” he held out a flier to her. It was for a jousting competition.

“I am going to enter it, I want to win for you!” he said excitedly, looking at her with anticipation.

Y/n chuckled at his enthusiasm. She could not deny it, he had gotten very good at the sport.

“Are you sure you are up for this darling? I would hate to see you hurt” she replied. Baldwin just smiled, taking her hands in his.

“I am more than strong enough, my love. This is everything I have ever wanted! All I need is your favour” he squeezed her hands to his chest.

Y/n sighed, “very well. Just please, be safe” she told him gently.

Baldwin’s grin widened with joy.

Y/n took a moment to think about the fact that he was still a young man. The mask he used to wear made him look much older than he was, as did his usually calm temperament. But at heart, he was a still young man trying to impress his wife. This warmed her heart greatly.

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

Soon the day of the competition arrived.

For y/n, her anxieties had grown more and more as the day grew closer. But for Baldwin, his excitement had only increased each day.

He was excited to not only participate, but to also finally feel like a man. For years, he had cursed his frail body for not providing the physical protection that his wife so deserved. And now with their baby growing inside her, the need to prove himself as a strong father and husband grew as well.

As much as y/n reassured him that she loved him so much regardless, and that he had nothing to prove, he still wanted to. For her and their baby.

The king was also looking forward to showing off his beautiful wife to the other contestants. He took every opportunity to present her beauty to the world proudly and this day would be no different.

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

As the tournament proceeded, each of the men battled until only one remained on their horse, until finally, it was the his turn. Baldwin's competition was won effortlessly and he moved up to the next round again and again until only he and the last man remained.

Y/n had been biting her nails the whole day as she watched from the crowd, and finally it was time. She could not have been more overjoyed when that last man fell from his horse into the mud.

Baldwin was in utter disbelief as the crowd cheered and chanted “long live the king!”. He had really done it.

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

That very night, the queen doted on her husband, congratulating him to the nth degree. They displayed his trophy as a prized possession on the shelf next to their shared bed (this would become one of many prizes he would win for all kind's of sport).

“I am so proud of you sweetheart” y/n whispered to her husband, massaging his tense shoulders as he bathed that night.

She kissed the top of his head and rubbed the back of his neck with her thumbs, earning a tired groan of pleasure.

“Thank you sweetheart” Baldwin murmured in reply.

“I loved winning for you. It was incredible, it just felt so right. Like this was all meant to happen...” he said softly.

“Yes, I believe that it was. Now let's get you into bed before you fall asleep right here” the queen chuckled, noticing his half closed eyes and the words trailing off slightly at the end of his sentence.

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

The two dressed for sleep and cuddled up against each other in the warm bed.

Baldwin’s hands cupped his wife’s pregnant midsection, laying his head against her chest.

“When I do this, I can hold my entire family in my arms at once. Is that not amazing? Everything I love is right here with me in this exact room” he said to her, his voice sleepy and calm.

Y/n chuckled, at his words.

“I could not be happier than I am at this moment. This is all I have ever wanted, and you have given it to me” Baldwin turned his head up to look into her eyes. “Thank you my love. For everything, truely.”

Y/n could not help but let a single tear roll down her cheek. That was the sweetest thing she had ever heard.

“Of course my darling, there is nobody in the whole world I would rather be with at this very moment than you,” she replied pulling him closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You are everything to me Baldwin and you always will be” she kissed the top of his head and ran her fingers through his soft hair.

That was the last thing the king heard before he let his tired body rest. Worn out from the long day of exercise and excitement instead of a terrible disease stealing the life from his body.

Y/n smiled at her husband's peaceful, light snoring that had long since replaced the difficult, struggled breathing that used to keep her awake at night with worry that one day he would fall asleep and never wake again.

Those fears were long since gone and she could now sleep comfortably with the knowledge that all was well and her husband was safe in her arms.

#king baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven fandom #king baldwin #king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin x you #king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven 2005 #king baldwin iv x oc #the leper king #baldwin iv #baldwin #baldwin iv of jerusalem #koh fandom #koh

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snarky-wallflower · 11 days

Text

Guided To His Place

Word Count: 1584 AO3 Inspired by my friend @its-short-for-jackalope's art, which can be found here! Also by my friend @midnightnautilus, whose ficlet can be found here. I found Samuel's arc truly beautiful, and as much as I'm devastated he's gone? I wanted to write my own send off to him, as someone who deeply related to him. I hope you all enjoy it.

Samuel Stratford lies in the grass, the softness of it comforting his back. It's twilight, sweet and true all around him. A peace settles in him, as he looks up at the stars. Shining, brilliant and bright, reminders of home. The stars are familiar, even in this strange place. Shining starlight, up in the sky once more. This place, the end. The place he appeared, once he awakened from his final choice.

He's wandered throughout it as much as he can - recognizing the Paper Stand, the Township, even the Ellen Austin and Lincoln Island. Places he loved, places he made an impact. A place where his story unfolded, now a place for him to walk and discover.

Their echoes. Now, he rests. It's a strange sensation, being alone. He doesn't know if he'll ever grow used to it. He spots familiarity up in that glimmering cacophony of stars, and feels his shoulders relax. He glows the same as those stars now, golden and warm against the cool night.

Above him is the Sagitta. Rose, Samuel, Margaret and John. The closest he has come to seeing his friends, his sister. Those stars Rose had named after the four of them, up in the sky. Separated, unable to reunite. Above him, the Satellite, shining out protectively into the dark. A guiding light home. That beauty he laid so many bricks to help create, helping to bring people home.

It's not the true stars or Satellite, of course. But it's still a reminder that his friends are out there, finding their way. He thinks that's still something real, in a way.

A cloak of grief and love covers his heart, as a lump forms in his throat. It's a strange mixture, those feelings, yet they still hold true. He's cried so much since he made his choice. Even now, they start to softly drip down his cheeks, as he thinks of teasing Rose at the Paper Stand, quietly talking with John about the weight of a legacy, of rejoicing with Margaret as she turned that wood to gold, so incredibly proud of her. Masterpieces of memories, fortunate to have ever have made them. They fill him with pride and fondness, rippling through his veins like that starlight across the sky, the love he holds tight to his chest.

John, the man who started as an icon, who became someone Samuel could speak to about his fears of not being enough. Who understood Samuel when he said he still had so far to go. Who Samuel watched choose creativity, becoming more wild and free.

Margaret, his friend, that one who enchanted him with what lived inside her. Her quiet resolve, her determination to find her answers, her own kind of masterpiece. One who he found trust with again, who forgave him for what he had done. Who he spoke and spoke with, trying to build back that original connection once more. Helping her find her way.

Rose, the one he would have been lost without. The one person Samuel thinks he knows better than he knows himself. The bravest, the best person he knows. Her sheer resolve to make her own legacy, to accomplish whatever she set her mind to. The first person he ever dreamed with, who was the one who reached out with him to find a world that was more than this.

Memories are what he has in this after, and he thinks of them often. Living in the echoes he made with those he loved so dearly.

There's a peace in his choice, though. Samuel knows it was the only choice he ever could have made. His friends will go on without him. His life was worth them getting to live, to continue their journeys. He acted like the man in his dreams, accomplished great things in the end. There is no greater thing he could have done than make sure that the family he built in brick carried on.

But, still... "I miss you." His voice is quiet. He misses them so badly that it aches. He could write and write and write, and it would still never come close to capturing the loss that he carries with him now.

But they must go on without him. This is what sacrifice means. It's a sacrifice he cannot ever bring himself to regret. Not when it means that those he loves--John, Margaret, Rose--live on. He did this for them. He would do this for them over and over. He wasn't afraid at the end, no longer needed direction. He knew what needed to happen. In no universe would he have held back from what needed to be done. He saved them, making his final impact. "I love you." It's easy, to say those words. Reliving those memories, that started all with his notebook. Those connections--those people he holds so dear. His hand reaches out to the stars. Connecting the four of them with his finger, holding their memories and stories in his mind. He's always been a storyteller, after all--that certainly will not stop now. He tells their stories, if only to himself. A fond smile crosses his face, as he feels warm air swoop across his face. He can almost picture them beside him--but only just.

The world is silent.

It's only Samuel and the stars, at the end of infinity.

A quiet sigh leaves Samuel's mouth, feeling that kaleidoscope of stars all around.

This is a moment, all his own.

Then, a buzz, just above him. He draws his head up, to see an intricately carved box, humming with its own sort of blue-green glow. It's mahogany, the buttons and knobs near the top standing proud and strong. It's near his height, mere inches shorter. He lets out a laugh, recognizing the radio--for that is what she's called--that first and only other being here. He moves to get a better look at her, the other storyteller here. He'd like to call her a peer. MAIA. Elation and fear runs through him, as he realises what's happening. "Oh." She does not often call. There's only one reason she's come to his side. "It's time, isn't it?" MAIA lets out a short buzz. An affirmation. Samuel breathes in. Breathes out. He gets to his feet, feeling the grass shift around him. He rolls back his shoulders, steadying himself.

Once on his feet, he places a hand on MAIA's top. "Take me there?"

She lets out another buzz, and-- In a flash, Samuel's no longer in the grass. Instead, he stands in a small room. Marigold-yellow wallpaper covers every wall. A green, plush chair is in one side of the room, with MAIA now rests next to that chair. On her top, now, a vase of roses. Soft blue carpet covers the floor, as a small table holds issues of what he knows to be the Sun. He picks one up and idly flips through it, laughing at the words he wrote with Rose in what feels like so long ago. His journal, a recreation of it, sits besides one of those issues. Trinkets, some he thinks Rose would have loved, strewn across the room.

MAIA starts to hum, a signal. She's picking up on the next story to share. He's almost nervous.

But why should he be?

They know where to find me.

Samuel feels a swell of pride, of trust in his friends. There's agony in no longer being there for them, of course. He thinks he will always feel that pain. There is a part of him that is terrified to listen, to hear exactly what his choice did to his family. That is terrified to hear Rose's grief, the final Stratford still on Earth. His sister, without him.

But they will persevere.

They always have, and he knows they are strong enough to keep on moving. Margaret, with her quiet inner strength and belief. John with his understanding of the weight of a legacy. Rose, who has survived so much already, his sister who he knows better than anyone else. His harbour in a storm, who will now live on without him. She has people other than him to lean on now, and he prays that will be enough. They will be enough for each other. They have each other, even without him. They've built their family - and Samuel knows that it will hold fast against the shadows ahead.

He had always been the storyteller before. The one who wanted so badly to convert passion to action. But now?

"Tell me how it ends?"

MAIA buzzes, a unspoken of course. So, Samuel settles in, sitting in the comfortable chair beside her. He can feel warmth exuding from him, something ghostly and true. He leans in, placing his hand on his cheek. "Rose, Margaret, John..." he muses, "l know you can do this. You're capable of everything. You were worth the world. Protect each other, for me?" He knows they cannot hear him. But he says it anyways, keeping them in his heart. Speaking out to the stars.

A voice starts to play through MAIA's speaker, the blue-golden glow shining across the room, a mixture of Samuel and MAIA's combined light. A sweet tune sounds off before it, a opening of a curtain. Their stories go on, even without him. Samuel smiles. He's ready. "Somewhere between the comforts of the familiar and the precipice of the unknown, an orchestra performs a score written in stardust..."

#samuel stratford #maia #pulp musicals #the searcher in the shadows #the searcher in the shadows spoilers #pulp 4 spoilers #tsits spoilers #pulp musicals 4

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thisismeracing · 1 year

Text

An avid learner | MS47

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x fem!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.9k ― Warnings: not proofread; mentions of food and alcohol; graphic description of sex; oral sex (fem receiving); p in v; +18 (minors DNI); ― Summary: Mick has been nothing but an attentive lover since they started dating, what Yn didn’t know was that he would be even more attentive in bed. It’s their first time having sex, and Mick is an eager learner, he’s set to make sure Yn forgets she ever dated someone before him. ― A/n: Every piece I write here it’s a new experience, so your feedback, comments, and asks are more than welcome. *mwah* 🤍 (I listened to Pink + White by Frank Ocean while writing it, so feel free to listen to it while reading ;))

Based on this request.

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⁕ I had a glitch on my account (got shadowbanned) so I'm reposting this piece <3

“Yeah, and what else?” Mick mumbled, eyes squishy due to the sun, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. He was listening to Yn’s rant about how potatoes were the best vegetable and bananas the best fruit, along with her arguments she listed that they were both really versatile and easy to fit into any recipe. Mick and Yn were together for two shy months, and he loved to listen to her and discover more about her when they were together, either her random rants or personal info, everything was a good subject for him.

Today their conversation has had several topics, from color to airplanes, wine, and, finally, food. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining high in the sky, and the weather was good enough for only one thin coat. They were even sitting on the outside tables of the cafe. A wine bottle, probably their second, and two wine glasses stand on the table, along with a charcuterie board.

“Huh?” Yn asked after losing herself in Mick’s features. He was sitting by her side, one of his arms draped in the back of her chair, one hand drawing spontaneous patterns on the exposed skin of her shoulders, and the other busy with his wine glass.

They were inside their own world. Anyone that passed by would notice.

“I don’t know,” Mick confessed after he too lost himself staring at her plump lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Yn blinked at him.

Mick smiled giving her the perfect display of his dimples and red cheeks, “You don’t even have to ask.”

And his lips are on hers in the blink of an eye. There’s a flutter on her stomach, and Yn feels lucky she’s sitting otherwise her knees would give out. She almost meowls when Mick brings her closer by her neck, his big hands covering her skin for the chilly wind, and deepens the kiss. It was not usual for them to kiss in public like this, they were usually pretty reserved when the topic was PDA, but right now it seemed as if the wine loosened them a bit. His lips were frantic against hers, the taste of her lip gloss along with the wine took a low grunt out of Mick’s throat.

When he withdraws there’s a small smile on his face.

They latch on to yet another subject to talk about, and when they decide to Uber home, the sun is not so high in the sky anymore. In fact, the sun is almost setting in the sky. They snuggled in the backseat of the car, talking in a low voice, inside their own bubble again, and they keep it as they get inside Mick’s house. Yn bends down to pet Angie who’s excitedly waggling her tails and barking for attention, and Mick walks for his Vinyl after taking off his coat.

“You wanna keep drinking?” the blonde asked pointing to the kitchen and Yn nodded, still playing with Angie. He took his time screwing the wine, and getting two water bottles from the refrigerator, so when Yn walked in he pushed one in her direction. “Gotta drink some water and eat something if we’re gonna keep the alcohol coming,” he explained, and she stood on her tiptoes to peck his lips.

After a quick snack pause full o giggles and lots of talking, Mick and Yn made the path to his room. Yn had the glass they were sharing in her hand, while Mick held the wine bottle, a grin on his face watching her so carefree and happy.

“I got Frank’s vinyl, he’s your favorite, right?” Yn told Mick that Frank Ocean was one of her favorite singers when they talked about music, and though the conversation happened during their first dates before the girlfriend and boyfriend title came, Mick remembered. He was attentive to the details, especially because each small one made up who Yn was.

Yn held her breath when the first accords to Nike started playing, “Mick, I can’t believe it!” she squealed running closer to the vinyl and leaning on his side. Mick turned his head to watch her eyes glow just like her smile. “You remembered,” she whispered.

“Of course, I did, babe.”

The song filled the room, and they enjoyed the atmosphere from Mick’s rug, half sitting, half lying down. His back was propped against the bed, his legs stretched, while Yn was sitting cross-legged beside him. She would sip the wine, pass it for him, lie on his shoulders or chest, then sit back up and repeat the action. They did it in silence for about three songs, until her favorite started playing and Yn jumped from the comfort of her boyfriend’s chest.

“It’s pink and white!! C’mon, get up, let’s dance,” Yn gushed, and Mick couldn’t do anything but leave the glass on the rug and follow.

That’s the way every day goes, every time we’ve no control if the sky is pink and white, if the ground is black and yellow, Frank sang, and Yn laced her arms around Mick’s neck, slowly swaying around.

The blonde smiled, dropping his head to the curve of Yn’s neck, and closing his eyes to enjoy the way his girlfriend was humming to the song and running her nails on his scalp. Mick left warm kisses on Yn’s skin and she felt the goosebumps rise.

“This is nice,” she whispered when she felt his kiss turn into a smile on her skin.

Mick hummed back an answer then withdrew just enough to stand face to face with her. His eyes roamed around her face and stopped on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Mick purposely repeated Yn’s words from earlier and she smiled, before sealing their lips together. Their bodies pressed against each other almost like their own way of caressing. Yn could feel the pumping of Mick’s heart, the beat of the song, and her own blood rushing through her body. It felt like the best symphony she’s ever heard.

When Yn broke the kiss to drag some air into her lungs, Mick curled his arm around her waist and trailed kisses from her jaw back to her lips. She gave his hungry tongue the perfect opening and moaned when he squeezed her ass lightly. They backed up until their bodies crashed on the bed, Yn on top, Mick under her.

His hands found purchase on her waist, and Yn whimpered when she bent down to reach his lips again and her clothed pussy dragged over Mick’s crotch. He swallowed her noises in a frantic kiss, up until she did the movement again and he was the one grunting.

“You like it?” Mick asked against her lips, eyes open attentively watching Yn bite her lips on top of him. She nodded, her eyes were still closed as if trying to make the sensation last just a bit longer, and he smiled, using his hands on her waist to drag her body against his, guiding the movements at first, but giving her the reigns once she seemed to come back from the momentary bliss.

Mick bites his own lips holding back some of the profanities that would go through them, while watching Yn change the movements to circles, getting just the perfect angle. He watched as she threw her head back, he detected how her nipples were hard against her thin blouse, and Mick witnessed a particularly loud moan leave her when he pinched them between his pointer and forefinger, rolling the bud and sitting up just enough to help her discard the piece of clothing somewhere around the room. He took his time admiring her naked top right in front of him, before sucking one of her breasts and massaging the other.

Mick watched how her body would react and how her voice would change with each movement. He thrived with the knowledge that tentatively biting her nipples would turn her grinding into frantic thrusts against his hard dick.

When half of their clothes were discarded in the room, Mick switched positions, lying on top of Yn. His hands roamed around her body, discovering just how she liked to be touched, how he could pleasure her, and how her body answered to his stimulus.

“There! Yes, right there, Mick,” she pants once Mick’s fingers found her pussy, pressing her clit just right. He smiled, following her voiced directions, but also her silent commands, such as the way her hips followed his hands looking for relief.

With a quick movement, Schumacher kneels bringing Yn’s body to the edge of the bed, and pushes her legs apart, each thigh on one side of his large shoulders, his face right in front of her pussy.

Mick spread her lips and dived in, lapping her pussy entrance and taking turns to suck her clit, he did it all with his big blues eyes open, reading every response Yn let out. His focused face did it for her because the moment Yn opened her eyes to look at Mick having the time of his life between her legs all while looking for clues on how to make her feel good, she couldn’t help but buckle her hips upward searching for more, and extend her hands to caress his hair.

He made figures eight and flickered his tongue, messily lapped, fingered, and made out with her pussy like it was the best thing he was ever granted.

“Do you like it when I do this?” Mick asked, using her body’s natural lube to insert two fingers and curl them against her walls. Yn moaned his name in prayer, and he smiled, doing it again and again, until her legs started to close around his head in an attempt to reach her high faster, but also hold back his fingers. This time Yn felt his smile against her thighs, and she couldn’t help but let out one last whimper and shudder, body limp falling onto the bed.

Schumacher guided her through her climax, and Yn kept one hand on his hair, lazily massaging his scalp while he took his time kissing his way up her body.

“How do you wanna do this, Schatzi?” Mick questioned already reaching for his nightstand and tearing a condom package open.

“Can you stay on top? I’m spent after this first orgasm, and the wine,” she confessed, and he smirked, bending down to peck her lips before resting between her legs.

He grind his shaft on her entrance, gathering just enough of her juices to help him slid in. He does it cautiously, observing the way her face contracts with each inch inside until he finally bottomed. Yn laces her legs around his waist, giving him the perfect opening. Mick lets out one shaky breath before sensually thrusting, their hips snap against each other, and Yn choked when his pubic bone grazed her clit.

Mick grinds his hips against hers and goes for one, two, three thrusts before snapping his hips in a faster movement. He watches as her tits bounce, and her eyes close, and he bends down to her ear tugging on her earlobe with his teeth, and whispering “I can do whatever you want me to, love.”

Yn cries out in pleasure and snaps her hips up finding his strokes midway, grinding her clit against him, playing with her nipples, and it’s a series of these moments. There were hard, long, deep thrusts, stares, kisses, and whispers before they came apart together. Happy to learn so much about the other’s body. Happy to give and receive so much pleasure. Happy to be the other’s choice.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mellowpizzapuppy @mickslover @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @carojasmin2204 @wondergirl101ks @chaoticevilbakugo @smiithys @shhhchriss

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#mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher smut #f1 smut #millie writes smut #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x you #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #ms47

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koolades-world · 4 months

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Hi! Congrats on the 2k!

Can I request prompt 33. It’s your favourite, right? and 37. what're you doing out here at this hour? With beel. Maybe they just started dating, and they are trying to figure out the relationship resulting in a cute fluff moment 🫶🫶

thank you! was very fun to write :)

sorry it was kinda short! i just kind of write until i'm happy with the results and this one just happened to be a little shorter

enjoy <3

prompts 33 and 37 w/ Beel

Getting into a relationship is usually exciting for both parties. It can be the start of something new, or the revival of something old. Either way, attempting to navigate it could be tough. It was a commitment on both ends of the relationship, something you and Beel were both ready for. That didn’t make it less nerve wracking though.

Initally, when you got together, you tried to continue things how they were before, but you quickly discovered his brothers could and would shove themselves between the two of you when they could. That started the two of you spending much more time with just the two of you together. Occasionally, Belphie would be present since most of what he does is nap. This led to you joining him on his workouts and late night snack runs. It became something you greatly treasured. As much as you loved the brothers, you loved the alone time you got to spend with Beel.

The two of you knew each other decently well before you got together, but once you finally did, neither of you knew how to act. It’d probably take you a while to just be yourselves again, because you were just eager to present your best self for the other, but that didn’t meant the two of you didn’t have fun. At the stage in your relationship, you were finally warming up to each other and growing more comfortable with each other again, and as of lately, you’d spent your evenings together cuddling. It was beginning to grow late and dinner was finished, so you went to the sofa, where you usually met. You waited for a while, but he was nowhere to be found. You decided to go searchisng for him, since you’d grown to really enjoy your little routine.

After checking his usual spots, and asking around, you still couldn’t find him. So, before you decided to call him, you decided to take a quick step outside into the garden and front yard. You knew you might get scolded, but it wasn’t like you were wandering the streets searching for him. he wasn’t in the garden, but it seemed you’d made perfect timing and was able to catch him walking up the path to the front door.

“Beel! What’re you doing out here at this hour?” You held the door open for him, and after locking it behind you, you gave him a hug.

“I was craving something we didn’t have in the house.” He took your hand with his free one and led you over to the living room to show you all the things he got. Among several bags of chips and a couple drinks, you saw a couple things that didn’t match the rest. He set those aside from the rest of his things, and happily told you about what he’d gotten and why. Once he was finished talking, he handed you the out of place snacks and drink, and started eating.

“What is this for?” You tilted your head, turning over the snacks in your hand.

“It’s your favorite, right? I saw them and thought of you. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I got something for myself, and not you?” He smiled at you, and you felt as if you would melt at the gesture. You lent in and brushed some crumbs off face tenderly.

“Thank you. This is probably the most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.” You held his face in your hands for a moment, studying his features. Despite what others might say, everything about him was kind to you. He gave you a small smile at your words.

“Next time, we can go together.” Food was Beel’s love language, and you could see your time in the small convenience store around the corner become yet another beloved nightly ritual of yours.

“Sounds great.” He held up a chip to your face, silently offering you one. You accepted it, feeling the love transferred between the two of you with that. At first you’d viewed your time in the Devildom as something of a problem, but with Beel by your side, you never wanted your time together to end. You might be a human and he might be a demon, but he really cared, and that’s all that mattered to you

#if any of you kept up with my wuthering waves saga #i did not get jiyan :( lost my 50/50 #still trying to grind to get him but he goes away tomorrow evening... i can hope haha #2k followers special #obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me beel #omswd #obey me beelzebub #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#gn reader

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yaekiss · 1 year

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#mailroom open! i hope the event is still open —if not, feel free to disregard !! i’m looking to send a letter to cyno confessing my love, and looking for a letter w/ yan + nsfw themes back! i love the petname bunny, but any are fine with me!

letter and gift below the hearts. congratulations on 400 !!!

the letter is scrawled on parchment paper, the handwriting a bit messy and hurried. the craftsmanship looks like it was a draft of many — is it possible the sender sent the wrong version of the letter?

“to cyno,

to think it has been merely two weeks since my departure from under your watch. i understand i’m supposed to be focusing on my work, completing my assignment and coming back, but i keep getting distracted.

i wouldn’t say it’s my fault in my entirety, because frankly, it’s you who is distracting me from the duties you sent me on. my mind keeps racing back to thoughts of you, you, you, and it’s impossible to look forward when all i want to do is have you order me around again in the desert.

leaving you was a pain. i didn’t want to go. i crave to be curled against your side and to really, truly love you, but it’s so inappropriate of me. insubordinate.

i’m writing this because i know i can never send it. my thoughts, my emotions — i would be jeopardizing my station. i need to focus, but it’s hard when i know you’re so far.

how embarrassing of me to write this to you. it’s childish of me to think you would really ever take notice.

i should throw this letter away before i fall asleep at my desk and mess it up with the one i really want to send you.

signed, your wannabe beloved.”

the letter makes no mention of the gift that came wrapped with it. it seems that the author really did send the wrong version. the gift enclosed was a bottle of wine, some photos to be included with a report, and some paperwork regarding the assignment they were on in liyue. when opened, it smelled faintly of perfume. “for filing, so they don’t get lost.” read a note attached to the papers and photos.

꩜ Letter Content: GN! Dom! Reader x Yan! Sub! Cyno, no gendered terms for reader, Cyno calls you "bunny", implied abuse of authority, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Cyno, lmk if I missed anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: You wouldn't believe the number of puns I had to listen to... they were all rabbit related too... ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

There’s a cardboard box dropped off at your hotel doorstep when you return from your day’s duties.

It reminds you of the kind you see hugged in your colleagues’ arms when they transfer out of your office and to a different jurisdiction or during the bittersweet retirement of a senior staff member. For a moment, the thought of Cyno, the General Mahamatra, taking offence to your confession letter cruelly crosses your mind and you dejectedly bounce the notion of getting fired from your job around in your head as you move to go pick up the box.

However, you soon discover that it is anything but a termination, evident from a heart-shaped envelope that rests shyly on the top of the box. A sense of hope bubbles up in you and you quickly move everything inside, eagerly opening up his letter. Inside the romantic envelope is his response, folded flawlessly into a heart as well. After unfolding it and doing your best to smooth out all the creases in the paper, you rake your eyes over the parchment, noting how his handwriting is identical to the one you always see in official reports. But to see such a font spelling out his love for you has you in disbelief. His letter reads:

“A reply to my dearest bunny. Can I call you bunny? Or should I call you mine?

Starting off, I need to reciprocate your confession, it won’t be ice of me to leave you in the cold. Haha, I wish I could’ve seen your reaction at that joke. On a more serious note, I would be lying to say that I don’t have any feelings for you. You caught my eye when I first saw how admirable you truly are, bunny. Now, you might not think so yet yourself but I’ve personally witnessed it in the little things you do, in your passions, in your dreams. Truly inspiring, bunny.

Thank you for the timely submission of your report again, bunny. Impeccable work as usual, I can always count on you for a job well done. The wine was a thoughtful gift too, if only I were able to share it with you in person. Perhaps I should reward you for being such a hard worker, I could be all yours to use, if you’d want me. Gods, I might be the General Mahamatra but the power you have over me is unfathomable. Would you allow me to lay my head in your lap, to let my hands trail up your calves and thighs, to bury my head between your legs? Maybe you’ll even have me call you General for the night instead, perhaps I’ll scream your title until daylight. I can satiate you in any way you’d like, I’m giddy with desire for you, bunny.

You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get closer to you, it was simply fated that you were transferred under me a while back, bunny. That previous superior of yours wasn’t the best either, always so harsh on you, aren’t you glad you’re under my watch now? If I can be frank (even though my name is Cyno), I never wanted you to take up the Liyue assignment, it wasn’t my idea in the first place. I loathe that I had to send you for it. What if you got hurt? What if you went missing? What if you fell for someone else? It simply won’t do, bunny.

Thankfully, I’ve managed to find someone to relieve you of your post in Liyue. Let’s just say that they needed this “learning opportunity” more than someone as experienced as you. In the box are all the required paperwork for you to hand over your duties and return to Sumeru. I expect to have you back by my side within a week. Don’t keep me waiting too long, I want to finally show you how much I’ve yearned for you all this time. I just hope you’re a hands-on learner, my bunny.

Fated to be yours,

- Cyno -

P.S.: Would you ever show me the version of the letter you originally meant to send?”

Lifting the cover off the cardboard box, you see an assortment of gifts he prepared for you. Bundles of your favourite snacks, little trinkets, and a small journal tucked to a corner. Opening it up, you glance over the different lines scribbled on it and realise that they’re all cheesy pickup lines and puns from Cyno. There’s one that says, “Nobunny (nobody) compares to you” and another that reads, “You got my heart jackrabbiting for you”. A lewder one says, “Let’s fuck like rabbits” At the bottom of the first page, he wrote, “I save my best jokes for you, bunny ♡”.

Additionally, what also catches your eye is a holographic copy of a TCG card of you in a durable clear casing, it produces a brilliant iridescent sheen when you slowly turn the card side to side in the light. Did he specially commission one of you? Setting the card on your bedside table, you continue going through the box.

True to his words in the letter, there’s a neat stack of paperwork stowed carefully in it. Flipping through the pages, you discover that it comes along with paid for travel arrangements from Cyno. A closer look reveals that all of them are scheduled to get you back to Sumeru as fast as possible. Just as you want to place the stack back into the box, a loose scrap of torn paper slips from it and flutters onto the floor.

The only few words on it you can unfortunately make out are “pulled strings”, “transfer”, and the crossed out name of your previous superior.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

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thequietkid-moonie · 2 months

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I just thought of this right now but how about a Yandere Violet Evergarden

Whose darling (who is a secret spy for a secret pro war organization) being aware of Violet’s feelings and using it against her to manipulate them

And how she would react to finding out about her darling being a spy. Will she be mad? Would she not care? It’s up to you.

(Also sorry for all the Violet Evergarden asks I just love her and the series so much)

Loving a spy from the other side

[ YANDERE, ONE-SHOT ] [ Violet Evergarden ]

Its fineeee ~ I absolutely love your ideas! Besides, Violet Evergarden is a beautiful story with a beautiful prota, I'll be more than happy to write mor for her <3

I wrote it in the time where she was still a soldier because i thought that way it would be more interesting

Honestly, getting closer to Violet was a really smart move, she has being the most stronge and diligent soldier from the start, and not only that but she is also quite close to the major and his soft spot, so getting her to your side could be quite helpful. However, it wasn't an easy task, Violet barely answer to anyone that it isn't the major

A key for a spy is to not attracting too much attention, being an infiltrator means having to act and become one of them, so you slowly did that, working perfectly in the role you are playing, sharing laughs and sorrow with your comrades and innocently trying to include that poor child that is mostly seen as a weapon for others

Acting innocent as a simple curious soldier, asking your comrades about her and laughing at their silly jokes about her being the dog of the major, getting to know as much as you can and making a plan before slowly getting closer to her, being kind and treating her as an equal, even more, as a human

Honestly, the character you put and the efforts were slowly start to pay off as the major slowly start to trust you a little more when seeing your humility and kindness towards Violet, scolding you for being too soft but showing a clear trust, while for Violet, she was starting to feel something she has never felt before, only the major has ever treat her with this kindness, but with you is diferent, maybe you were acting a little to much to try to force her to look at you, but at the end it worked since Violet now can't take her eyes away from you

She doesn't understand how or even why, but Violet can't help but want to see more of you, your kind smile or you attempts to make small chat with her, praising her skills but also making sure she wasn't injured after the battles, it was all new for her and it was making her feel like anything else before, nor even the trauma of the war had affected her this much, maybe it was because, deep down you were what was making all she have endure worth it

Soon you started to see why Violet was treated like a simple weapon, since now it was you who she started following around without saying anything, everytime she has free time she imediatly goes searching for you, whenever you have to do the patroling she join you or whenever you are together in the squadron she tries to be close to you or at least keep an eye on you, just in case you need her help

It is her clinginess and her own silent step what end up making her find you sneaking around the important things of the major, looking throught the secret information, and yet her trust is still on you, she doesn't understand why but she feels like she can put her life in your hands, she can life and die for you, and it isn't dificult to notice when even when she had just discovered you she still look at you with those innocent and trusting eyes

This is a war, people do bad things to be able to win this battle, and you couldn't care much about morality in this moment, who will tell you that manipulate an innocent child into your little job would be wrong? her? your boss? No one, besides, if you win maybe you can win her forgiveness by offering her a good life, since she seem too eager to be with you and be useful for you then probably she wouldn't mind helping you a little

In all honesty, Violet didn't know what to think or how to react, but at this point she is too infatued to say no, even when she is not sure about all of this the moment you smile at her, pleading for her to keep the secret and asking her for help, saying that this would be something just between you and her, Violet will not be able to say no, not when this feels bigger than anything else, more important than herself, not when her burning feelings scream at her from the bottom of her heart that no matter what, she has to follow you because you are the only right thing in her life now

Thats how Violet happily start helping you, doing all you ask her to, it doesn't matter if she is betraying the person who had saved her as long as you keep smiling at her the same way, as long as she is useful for you nothing else matter

#violet evergarden #violet evergarden x reader #violet x reader #yandere violet evergarden x reader #x reader #x gn reader #anime x reader #yandere x reader

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nicksbestie · 7 months

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Hi! So I have a request for feminine reader “coming out” to Johnnie as an age regressor and he just comforts her and cares for her <3 Really fluffy and sweet pls!

Hope you’re doing well 🖤

thank you so much for the request!! i hope you're also doing well <3 this is written in the third person, but the feminine character isn't named! it made it easier for me to write, i hope you enjoy! <3

Discovery

word count : 4091

warnings : mentions of anxiety and trauma , but no details <3

pairing : johnnie guilbert/reader (romantic)

Johnnie liked to think that he was a good boyfriend, someone that people could trust, could tell anything. He wanted to believe that out of all people, his girlfriend trusted him enough to come to him when she wanted, or needed something. He knew he loved her, and he knew she loved him, but he still had concerns. Like the small, well, it was actually quite big, secret of hers that he’d just discovered.

He hadn’t been snooping, no. He wouldn’t intentionally do that. However, he had noticed that one of his hoodies had mysteriously disappeared, and had simply been looking for it. He had checked her closet, and had seen it curled up in one of the corners, seemingly pushed as far back as it could be. It didn’t alarm him that it was there, sometimes things fall off of hangers and get nudged up under stuff. What alarmed him, well, alarmed may not be the best word, but it was the only thing he could come up with at the time, was the pile of items that were now visible when he lifted the soft gray sweatshirt off of the floor.

Baby things? A pacifier, a few stuffed animals, a bottle, and some rattles and teethers?

Confused, would probably be the best word for the situation. His first thought was that she was pregnant, and just hadn’t told him yet, maybe hoping for it to be a surprise. That idea, however, was thrown out when he noticed the size difference of the pacifier in his hand, and a second one on the floor that he hadn’t seen at first. He picked up the other one, and realized one was specifically made for adults. He remembered a fanfiction he’d stumbled across a while back, trying to recall the name of what it had been about.

Age regression.

So now he knew a name to possibly explain this, but he had no idea what it was really about, so he turned to the internet for help. The first definition to pop up was one from Urban Dictionary, and with lack of experience, figuring anything could help, he clicked the link.

“Age regression is when somebody reverts to a child-like state of mind, often as a coping mechanism for things like PTSD, depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues. Basically age regressors are more at-peace and worry-free whilst in "littlespace" (A term for when one is in said mindset). These people simply need breaks from the stress of being old and often have a childish personality even outside of regression (Though sometimes it's not as obvious). Contrary to popular belief, age regression is NOT a kink or even related to sexual intercourse whatsoever. Some age regressors refer to themselves as littles and to their significant other as "Daddy", "Mommy", or just as their "Caregiver" Since they'd typically take care of their "Little" as if they're an actual child.”

So his girlfriend was an age regressor. He didn’t feel any kind of disgust, or any type of negative emotion. Except sadness. Continuing to read the description, he realized that age regressors, or, “littles”, needed a caregiver to take care of them, and by the sight of all of her stuff pushed into a dark corner he had a pretty good idea that she didn’t have one. And that broke his heart, that his girl had thought he wouldn’t be open to taking care of her, even in a way that isn’t as common as usual. He deeply hoped that she didn’t feel scared of talking to him, like he would ever judge her or belittle her for something that helped her feel better.

He knew she’d dealt with a lot of trauma in her short life, problems starting at home and feeding into her adult life. She’d told him when they first began officially dating that she was terrified of having an angry man in a house with her, as her strained relationship with family did not help in the slightest. He had held her while she talked, tears had been shed, kisses on her forehead had been placed. It had been an emotional night, and the more he thought about it, the more childlike she had seemed by the end of it. There was no verbal change, but she had clung to him and not said much until she’d finally fallen asleep against him.

He slowly put more pieces together in his head. The cut up food, small snacks, juice boxes that she had claimed “were just easier to drink out of”, the multiple stuffed animals littering their shared bed, the comfort blanket that was always referred to as her “blankie”, no matter what. He smiled as he thought about the way that she had always stayed close to his side in public, clutching his hand tighter to signal that she was nervous. The way she had always relaxed into his side when he wrapped an arm around her, gently rubbing hers, the soft giggles that left her lips when he kissed her forehead and whispered a soft “I love you.”

He wondered how long she’d been dealing with this alone, and how he didn’t notice. His heart wrenched when he thought about how rough overstimulation and sensory issues were for her to deal with when she was with him, making him not even want to think about her having to handle it alone. And not only alone, but in the mindset of a child, where she might not even understand what was happening, and by default, not know how to care for herself. He could see it far too easily in his mind’s eye, her, curled up with her blanket and a stuffed animal, possibly one of the pacifiers between her lips, tears rolling down her face as she feebly attempted to find a position, a feeling that didn’t hurt, something to soothe the bothersome sensations she was already struggling with.

He was still in front of the closet, no longer standing, but instead sitting criss-cross, turning the items over in his hands. His hoodie was thrown over his shoulder, the smaller of the two pacifiers being held in his left hand. Peering at it, he could easily see that there was a small fairy on it, wearing a crown. The pacifier itself was an orange and pink color mix, the clear part obviously adjusted to fit an adult, telling him it was often used. Picking up the adult one, he softly ran his fingers over the beads decorating it, reading the lettered ones. He smiled when he saw that it read, “Little Princess”, the black of the letters strongly standing out against the stark white of the bead’s background.

Princess had been his nickname for her for as long as he could remember, even when they were just friends, back before mutual crushes were developed. He felt a small stir in his heart at the fact that it had meant so much to her that she’d put it on a pacifier, one of her most vulnerable things she owned.

There was no hesitation in his mind when he turned over the idea of being her caregiver, just love that he didn’t think could grow stronger. He sat and thought of possible caregiver names. Mommy was definitely out of the question, but he was partial to bubba/bubby. But the only thing that he really felt fit was daddy. Daddy’s little princess. He just knew that she would blush dark red and let out those little giggles that he loved to hear. God, she was so precious. He hadn’t even seen her in her littlespace, and just the thought of it was so heartwarming to him. He already knew he loved her to pieces.

She wasn’t home yet, and she probably wouldn’t be for an hour. That gave him about sixty minutes to figure out how he wanted to handle this. No, handle wasn’t the right word. This wasn’t a problem, this wasn’t something that needed to be fixed, it wasn’t something he was angry over. Those words should be included when he brings it up. He knows she’s anxious, and this might be a rough conversation for her. That reassurance is going to be incredibly important. Go about, would be the right phrase. He has to take some time to decide how he wants to go about this conversation. He’s going to have to be gentle, probably cautious, and she might panic. He’s going to have to softly remind her it’s okay, that he still loves her just the same, if not more, and that they need to talk about it, but that it is all going to work out.

He takes all of the items, now known as little gear, and carefully places them on the bed. He leaves them there, along with her favorite stuffed animal and her blankie, and softly shuts the door. He walks into the kitchen, pulling up his notes app and opening the one filled with her favorite foods. It was now roughly 5:45, thirty minutes gone by, and she was expected home around 6:15. He easily pulled out some mac and cheese, currently the dairy free kind, but if she would rather the better kind, he can always change it. Slipping a new bottle of apple juice into the fridge, he figured it would have time to cool while he waited.

He wasn’t entirely sure of what else he could make to go with the mac and cheese, but scanning through the list, he quickly took an apple out of the fridge, easily cutting it into thin slices and placing them on a paper plate. He placed it back into the fridge, wondering if the apple-on-apple part of the food would be too much. (He would later find out that it wasn’t, and she loved it. She also asked for animal crackers later, when she was fully in headspace. And it may or may not have been one of the cutest things he’d ever seen.) He watched the clock tick to 6:10, hoping she’d be on time. The mac and cheese was finished cooking, and he was easily putting it in small bowls, the colored ones that they’d always loved.

She walked in the door at 6:14, face very clearly exhausted, an insanely long day wearing on her body. However, a genuine smile crossed her face as she noticed what was sitting on their counter. Her features softened, tiredness still evident, but love creasing her under-eyes as she smiled.

“Babe, you didn’t have to.”

He crosses the room, tall body bringing her in for a hug, softly rubbing her back, softly placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“You’ve had such a long day, I’m more than happy to make you dinner. We’ll eat, and afterwards, we can go cuddle, and relax for a bit. Does that sound good, princess?”

Just like he expected, the pet name made her flush red, and a small laugh left her lips. He stepped back, both of them sitting down, him beginning to eat.

“It’s dairy free, but if you’d rather have the other kind, I can make it. It’s no issue, I promise. I just didn’t want your stomach to hurt, especially not after you’ve done so much today. You need some rest, and I didn’t think that a stomach ache would make that easier on you.”

She sat there in shock for a few seconds, a smile still on her face.

“No, it’s okay. Thank you, so much. I love you.”

“I love you too, darling. Why don’t you go ahead and eat, then you can change into some soft clothes, and I’ll lay with you for a while, yeah?”

A nod in response, and in about fifteen minutes dinner was finished. He knew that dishes overwhelmed her, so he took care of it while he sent her off to go get changed, become more comfortable, momentarily forgetting about the stuff he left laying out. He didn’t recall it until about five minutes later, when he was wondering why she had gone so silent. He finished up the last piece of silverware, hurriedly throwing it into the dishwasher and starting the cycle, as he quickly got to the shared bedroom. He cursed under his breath when he saw that the door was not only shut, but locked.

“Baby? Can you open the door, please?”

He gently rapped his knuckles against the wood, patiently waiting for a reply. He got one in the form of a muffled “no.” He desperately tried to ignore the painstakingly obvious sob in her voice.

“Hey, we need to talk. C’mon, open the door, princess.”

The lock slowly turned, the door slowly swinging open. Johnnie walked in, noticing an empty bed, minus his girlfriend sitting at the head of it, tears pouring out of her eyes at a steady pace. He gave her a soft, sad look sitting down next to her and pulling her in close.

“It’s okay, love. I’ve got you. Where’s all your stuff, angel?”

She shook her head, tears falling faster.

“There is no stuff.”

Johnnie gently ran a hand through her hair, softly shushing her, waiting for her to calm down a little bit.

“Honey, we both know there is, and that we should talk. It’s okay, I’m here. I love you, and I’m not leaving.”

She stifled a sob into his body, desperately wishing she had hidden all of her stuff better. When she’d walked in, she’d stood there in shock, and then quickly shoved it back onto a shelf in the closet.

“Here, baby, will this help? C’mere, arms up, lovely.”

She brought her face up, noticing he had picked up his hoodie again, softly motioning for her to raise her arms up so he could gently pull the soft sweatshirt over her head. It didn’t make her feel little. Not at all. She ignored the soft, knowing smile on his face, immediately laying back into his arms, because as embarrassed and distraught as she was, she really needed some comfort. Even if it wasn’t the kind that she really wanted.

“Sweetheart, I know what’s going on, and you know that I know what’s going on. It’s okay, my love. I’m not judging you, I’ve always been here for you. And I am confident that isn’t going to change with this.”

He worried that he’d said the wrong thing when her body heaved and she sobbed harder, also clutching his shirt like her life was depending on it. She pulled back, gasping when the gray of his hoodie was stained darker with her tears.

“I’m sorry.”

He gave her a confused look, rubbing her back.

“For what, little one?”

She looked so small compared to him, and he felt nothing but protective over her. Her tears had stopped, but distress was evident on her face.

“For getting your shirt, and your hoodie all wet.”

He didn’t feel any type of upset with her, but her eyes were watering over as she peered up at him, tears threatening to spill over again.

“Princess, I'm not angry with you for crying. It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry for feeling your emotions, baby.”

A short sniffle was let out, him immediately pressing another kiss to her head.

“You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

“Shh, honey. Deep breaths. Let’s talk, yeah?”

A nod into his chest, but no more spoken words, so he took it upon himself to start the conversation.

“Alright, princess. I’ll talk, you listen. Just try to even out your breathing, you can interject if you need to. I found all your stuff when I was looking for my hoodie. I would never go to snoop and invade your privacy like that. I feel like that’s important to mention, just so you’re fully aware that I did not intend to scare you by looking for this. Secondly, I know what’s going on, thanks to some research, and I can’t imagine how hard this must have been for you to handle alone.”

A soft, but confirming, noise elicited from the girl curled up against his chest.

“That being said, I know you don’t have a caregiver. Can you look at me, angel?”

Her eyes were still teary, but she raised her head to make eye contact, and he cradled her face in his hands. He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, getting a small smile out of her. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was better than the semi-permanent frown she’d been wearing.

“I love you, baby, you know that. I hope that you also know I would do anything for you. Anything at all. Do you want me to be your daddy, little one?”

A sob tore from the back of her throat, making Johnnie believe he’d said the wrong thing… again. But his fears were calmed quickly this time, when she sucked in a breath, clearly speaking out a “yes”, before dissolving back into cries. He didn’t hesitate to resume comforting her, whispering soft praise and loving words, waiting until her cries slowed into hiccups and gasping breaths, before speaking again.

“You’ve had such a long day, princess. Why don’t I go run you a bath, hm? I’ll even put bubbles in it, if that’s something you want, and I’ll wash your hair.”

She nodded, but her grip on Johnnie, her daddy, (she was still reeling with the new happiness), didn’t let up. He kissed her once more, helping her wrap her legs around his waist, looping his arms under them, and lifting her. She gently rested her head on his shoulder, refusing to acknowledge just how tiny she felt right now as her thumb slowly began to make its way to her mouth. However, it only took about three seconds for Johnnie to notice, and softly pull it away.

“No, baby, let’s not suck on our thumbs. How about we go grab your paci, sweetheart?”

He easily moved towards the closet, quickly locating the missing items, grabbing the bigger of the two pacifiers off of the shelf, and gently pushing it into her mouth.

“Much better, baby girl. You look so adorable, don’t you? Daddy’s little princess.”

Her arms were now wrapped around his neck, head resting on his shoulder, blush rising furiously to her cheeks as she could feel herself easily slipping into littlespace.

Why was he so good at this? Maybe it was the gentleness, the softness, but either way, he was so effortlessly coaxing her into headspace. She’d never felt safer than she did right now, and she desperately hoped that she would have this for a long time.

She didn’t know it, but Johnnie was thinking the exact same thing. She looked so happy, so comfortable, that he wanted to keep her there forever. He took a small amount of pride in being trusted with this, but even more happiness in being the reason she feels safe.

“It’s okay, angel. I know you’re slipping. Shh, sweetpea, let it happen. Daddy’s got you.”

He loved this girl with his whole heart, and this new side of her didn’t affect that at all. He started a bath, checking the temperature on the inside of his wrist multiple times before softly helping her undress and letting her hold his arm and shoulder to sit herself in the tub. Quickly folding up her clothes and setting them on the side, he stepped out solely to throw a towel in the dryer with some fabric softener, setting it on 20 minutes, and to grab one of the bath toys he’d noticed but not set out previously.

“Look what I got, bubba! Why don’t you play with this while Daddy washes your hair? Paint me a pretty picture, okay?”

He gently handed her the set of bath paints, before grabbing the plastic cup he kept in the bathroom. He filled it up with water, pressing his hand along her head to keep the water from going in her eyes as he softly wet her hair. He looked down to see her intensely focused on the colors that were now decorating the bathtub wall, and couldn’t stop the smile crossing his face. He gently shampooed her hair, making sure to keep it out of her eyes as he washed it out, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she took a break from painting and leaned into his touch.

“Alright, sweetie, I’m all done! Wow, that is absolutely beautiful, baby!”

A huge grin spread across her face, now, as she brandished the paintbrush at him, getting a little bit of yellow on the end of his nose.

“It us, daddy!”

He looked at the artwork, seeing two stick figures holding hands, a blotch of yellow as the sun, and some green for grass. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of it, immediately adding it to his favorites.

“It’s perfect, angel. C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get out, so we can get some cuddles in before bedtime!”

Just as expected, a pout formed on her face as the painting was slowly washed away, and the paint on his nose was wiped off.

“It’s okay, princess, Daddy has a picture so he can cherish it forever. Now, tomorrow, when it’s bath time, you can paint me a new one!”

That put a smile back on her face. He grabbed the soft, and warm, towel out of the dryer, wrapping her in it and softly toweling her dry. Grabbing the clothes she’d put on just two hours before, he gently helped her redress, scooping her up and placing her on the sink counter. He bracketed her body with his own so that she wouldn’t fall, setting up her toothbrush for her.

“I’ll dry your hair while you brush your teeth, okay little one? Let me know if you need some help, princess.”

Plugging in the hair dryer and being very careful to not have the heat too high or too close, he was about halfway done drying her hair when she finished brushing her teeth, spitting into the sink. He took his other hand, switching the sink on, washing it out, and then passed her the container that held her retainers in it.

“Here you go, sweetpea. Pop these in, and then you can have your paci to suck on while Daddy finishes up drying your hair, alright?”

She nodded, easily slipping them in, and he took note of the fact that she was barely verbal right now. He figured it had something to do with the emotions of the night, and wondered how verbal she was usually. He’d find out in due time, but he made sure to give detailed instruction, as well as comfort laced in his words, if it had something to do with fear or anxiety of the situation.

Passing her the pacifier once she was done, it only took about five more minutes to finish drying her hair, and if he passed the time by singing to her, loud enough to hear over the hair dryer, but not loud enough to overstimulate her, nobody besides the two of them had to know.

Unplugging the hair dryer and running his hands through her hair to make sure it was fully dry and no shampoo or conditioner was left in it, he picked her up off the counter, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and flipping off the lights on his way out. She let out a yawn into his neck, pacifier falling onto his shoulder. He grabbed it with one arm, the other still supporting her weight, and softly pushed it back into her mouth. She gripped his shirt in a tight fist, a small lisp sounding out around the rubber.

“I seepy, Daddy.”

He gently rubbed her back, bouncing her a little bit while he grabbed her blankie and favorite stuffie.

“Oh, sweet girl, I know. It’s late for such a little one to be up.”

He softly laid her down, heart breaking a bit when she whimpered and didn’t want to let go of him.

“I know, angel, I’m here. I promise.”

He tucked the blankets up around her, laying down next to her and pulling her close for a cuddle.

“Get some rest, little one. Daddy will be right here when you wake up.”

He smiled, the expression nearly permanent on his face, as he heard a few words.

“Loves you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, princess.”

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