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slut4hee · 1 month ago

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5 Star Service

{Paring: Uber Driver Yeonjun x Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, car sex, yeonjun drives a Tesla, 18+ so mdni).

{Synopsis: Tonight’s date was supposed to hit the spot. He was supposed to take you back to his place, pour you a glass of wine, and show you a good time. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, he turned out to be straight up asshole. But luckily your hot uber driver made up for it.

{Warnings: explicit themes, rough sex, unprotected sex (but they do attempt to use a condom), creampie fingering, oral (m receiving), squirting (they fuck up his seats), ass smacking, riding, public sex, panty sniffing, switch jun (he’s very whiny), switch reader, they’re both pervy asf, dirty talk, pet names, Yeonjun’s a college student, reader is well off (gives Yeonjun a 100 tip at the end of the ride), reader is slightly older than Yeonjun (Yeonjun 21, reader 24), lmk if I missed anything.

You rolled your eyes, as you traced the rim of the wine glass, listening to your date, boast about himself for the past 20 minutes. Honestly as soon as he opened his mouth to talk about his yearly earnings, you were already ready to make your exit out the door, but maybe his mouth worked good for other things so you gave him a chance.

You pretended to listen, nodding to everything he said, you were just hoping you would get a good fuck out of this, since you’re wasting so much time on this loser.

“Oh and my father, he graduated with two phds, and he’s one of the best plastic surgeons out there. I could give you his card if you ever, you know wanna get work done” He said sarcastically, you looked at him like he had two heads, did he just basically say you should consider getting plastic surgery?!

“I’m sorry but, why would I need any work done, isn’t it obvious that this body is perfect just the way it is” You said confidently, you were not going to let this bastard, disrespect you by any means.

“No that’s not what I meant, I’m just saying like, isn’t that something you women love doing nowadays. I mean you probably do have something you would want to change about yourself wouldn’t you” He said smugly, taking a sip out of his wine glass.

You were in rage, you stood up from your chair, pulling out a hundred dollar bill and slammed it onto the table. You didn’t even spare him another glance, as you stormed out of the restaurant.

“What a sexist prick” you said to yourself pulling out your phone, to dial your personal driver. You cursed under your breath, as you remembered you agreed to letting your personal chauffeur take this week for vacation.

“Well looks I gotta settle for an uber” You sighed, opening the app and requesting for a ride. The app connected you with a driver, by the name of Yeonjun, on the picture he looked kind of cute, his bright smile shining in the photo.

You were so annoyed, sex deprived, and stressed out from work. All you wanted was to have a good time, get dicked down, and have a nice meal, was that too much to ask for? Just as you were about to smoke a cigarette, your phone dinged with a p in notification, that Yeonjun was near by.

You quickly put the cigarette back into box, throwing it inside your purse, as you waved your hand to signal where you were. Finally a black Tesla pulled up in front of you, and Yeonjun hopped out the car, to open the door for you. You thanked him, and took a seat in the back.

You were right, he was handsome, and he was also very clean, car smelling of fresh linen but also a faint scent of his cologne could be smelled.

“Hello my name is Yeonjun, I’ll be your driver tonight, if you need me to adjust the ac, just let me know” His voice was soft and pillowy, making your stomach feel all funny. You hummed, staring at him through the rear view mirror.

He looked a little younger than you, he was dressed in a gray hoodie, his bangs peaking out slightly. You couldn’t help but stare at his fuller lips, pink and plump, and you bet they’re very kissable. Yeonjun must have sensed you staring at him, his eyes caught yours, and you quickly looked away clearing your throat.

“So, how’s your night going miss?” He inquired, adjusting the rear view mirror to get a better look at you. You smiled, and bit your lip slightly, before answering his question.

“Actually not so great, my date was an asshole” You replied, stretching out your arms, causing your too little of a skirt to ride up, you didn’t miss the way Yeonjun’s eyes trailed down your figure in the mirror, swallowing hard. You smirked to yourself, that’s right baby, look at my thighs.

“May I asked, what said asshole did, to be called an asshole” He asked, shifting a little bit in his seat, as he kept stealing glances at you in the mirror. You smirked, you were loving that just from a little skin showing, he was already so flustered.

“Well, he didn’t know how to speak to a lady, and insulted my dignity. Plus he seemed very boring, and a waste of my precious time” You said, taking off your black fur jacket, exposing your shoulders and chest. Yeonjun’s eyes widened before quickly looking away, gulping.

“Wow, he seemed like a total dick, I can’t stand guys like him, who don’t know how to treat women with respect and dignity” He said softly, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, he was so sweet, cute, and respectful and honestly, you liked where this was going.

“May I ask how old you are, Yeonjun?” You said, flirtatious and seductively”. He cleared his throat, before answering.

“I’m 21, and I’m a sophomore in college”. He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his nape, he could tell you were obviously older than him, and on top of that, you gave off very mature grown woman vibes, that turned him so bad.

“Hmm you’re pretty young, but it seems you know how to treat a lady, Yeonjun”. You said, twirling the ends of your hair. You could tell he was turned on, the constant shifting in his seat, and the tint of red on his ears.

“Uhh, I’m not trying to make any assumptions or toot my horn, but I feel like you’re coming onto me” He said nervously, eyes wide and awkward looking. You giggled softly again, he was just too adorable and gullible for his own good.

“I don’t know darling, am I?” You said teasingly, you wanted to make sure, you both were on the same page, before you went any further.

“Y-yes, he stuttered, opening and closing his legs, like he’s trying to gain some friction. You chuckled, feeling yourself getting wet in your thong, honest truth you loved pathetic man.

You loved when a man wasn’t afraid to show how needy he is for a woman, not some nonchalant wanna be loser, who thinks all women gets off by men being tough.

“I tell you what baby, how about you pull over somewhere private, promise I’ll make it worth your while” you smiled devilish, already starting to rub on your tits, you were so damn horny, so if it meant fucking an uber driver in the backseat of his car to satisfy your needs, then so be it.

Yeonjun damn near lost control of the wheel, he stared at you bewildered, he’s never had something happen to him like this since he started driving for Uber, shit, not ever in general.

“A-Are you l-like serious right now, you want to have sex with me in my car?” He stumbled over his words, he needed to make sure he wasn’t trapped away, in some erotic wet dream. But no, you were dead serious!

“Smart boy, that is exactly what I’m implying, unless you’re scared little boy, who’s afraid of some pussy” You giggled, reaching under your skirt, to slide your panties off, twirling them around your fingertips.

Yeonjun groaned at the sight, cock now very much hard, throbbing inside his sweats. You threw the panties at him, the red piece of fabric landing his lap. He grabbed the your thong, feeling how soaked the panty is, he brought it to his nose, groaning at the scent of your sweet aroma.

“F-fuck you smell so good, fuck I wanna fuck you so bad right now” he whined, hips unintentionally bucking up, he hasn’t been this hard in a long time, too busy with studying and exams, he forgot how good pussy is.

“Then do it baby, find a place, so you can fuck me as hard as you want darling” You said a little desperately, you honestly needed to jump his bones like right now, your pussy was screaming at you, for neglecting her for so long. Yeonjun quickly found an empty parking lot, of an abandoned building, he pulled into the parking lot, turning off his car.

Yeonjun quickly hopped into the back seat, glancing at you nervously, but his eyes were dark and full of lust. You smirked at him, before climbing onto his lap, he was so hard already, cock straining painfully through his sweats where a wet patch could be seen.

“Fuck I can’t believe this is happening right now, you’re so sexy on top of me like this” He whined, putting his hands on your waist, squeezing the fatty flesh. You moaned softly, starting to grind your bare wet pussy on his clothed hard on.

“Yeah baby? You like what I’m doing to you naughty boy” You cooed, dropping down to your knees, staring into his lustful eyes for permission, he nodded eagerly, before lifting his bottom from the seat, so you can pull his pants down.

His hard cock spring free, long and thick, with the tip red and leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight, it’s been so long since you seen a pretty and thick cock, you were definitely going to have some fun with him.

You stared deep into his eyes, as you start to leave little kitten licks on his leaking tip, grabbing the base of his dick, and pumping it up and down. Yeonjun pants heavily, watching intently, as your mouth swallows him whole.

“Ah fuck! O-oh god, that feels incredible, ugh please” He whimpered, when you started to full on suck his cock, bobbing your head and slurping. The sounds you were making were sinful, and if anyone were to walk by the car, they would be in for a surprise.

“Yes baby, suck that dick so good, wow you’re so fucking good at this ngh” Yeonjun was a moaning mess, babbling and slurring his words. You could tell it’s been a while for him as well, desperately holding your head in place, as you take his cock down your throat.

“Oh shit baby, I don’t think I’m going to last any longer, you gonna be a good little whore, and let me cum in your mouth” He whined, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail, and fucking your mouth. You looked up at him with your innocent but not so innocent doe eyes, letting him abuse your throat.

His pants and groans, turned into whiny moans and cries, as he feels his high approaching rapidly. You go to fondle his balls, squeezing them as you sucked him dry. His eyes rolled to back of his head, hips stuttering as he let out a loud cry, shooting thick white ropes of cum down your throat.

You swallowed his semen effortlessly, like you’ve done this plenty of times (which you have.), sticking out your tongue to show how good of a girl you are for him. He already looks so fucked out, eyes half lidded and hazy, and his chest heaves up and down as he tries to control his breathing.

You give his tip a kiss, before climbing back onto his lap, removing your top and bra. You yelped, when he suddenly started to play with your tits, squeezing and pulling on your nipples.

He slid his hand between your legs, swiping his fingers through your slick folds. Your body shuddered, the feeling of his touch sending shock waves of pleasure through your body.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me baby, you like getting your pretty little pussy played with, by random guys huh?” He teased, as he smirked at you mischievously, sliding one of his digits into your tight weeping hole.

“Oh fuck!, oh yes please more” You moaned, his fingers were so long and hitting places deep inside your mushy walls, that you didn’t know existed. You kinda felt so pathetic with yourself, getting off at his vulgar words, but you were too deep now, and it felt too good to stop.

“That’s right baby, cum on my fingers, and show me how desperate of a whore you are” He cooed, curling his fingers deep inside your pussy, as he slides in another finger. As much as you would have loved to cream on his fingers, you rather cream on his cock instead, so you pushed his fingers away panting in the process.

“I need you now, I need your cock inside me right now or I might die of starvation” You said, rubbing your acrylics down his chest. He shivered at your touch, leaning in to kiss your lips softly.

“So, are you implying that you are a cock hungry whore?” He said, smacking your ass harshly, you yelped at the sting, but you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make your pussy leak more.

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, so are you going to feed my greedy pussy your cock or not Yeonjunie?” You said seductively, palming his hard leaking cock. He groaned out of desperation, reaching into the glove compartment, to pull out a condom.

He stared into your eyes deeply, panting heavily as he tore open the package of the condom with his teeth. You watched as he grabbed his throbbing cock, giving it a couple of pumps, before rolling on the condom. You giggled softly, as he lifted your body up, and aligned his mushroom tip up with your dripping hole.

“Before I put it in, are you sure about this” He asked, his eyes were sincere, but lust also clouded them. You answered him by grabbing his cock, slowing sinking down on it. The stretch was intense, you felt like you were being split open, as his long dick penetrated your fluttering walls.

“Oh fuckk, shit you’re s’big omg” You whined, legs trembling as you tried to let yourself adjust to his size. Yeonjun couldn’t wait though, you felt too good, too fucking tight for him to not fuck up into your heavenly hole.

“Ahh shit, your pussy is so tight fuck” He gripped your waist tightly, starting to rock your hips back and forth. You moaned out loud at the feeling, his cock was truly delightful, the snug fit and the drag of it was like no other.

“Goddam baby, so glad to have been your passenger tonigh- UGH FUCK!! Right there please don’t stop” Your words were interrupted, by Yeonjun suddenly slamming himself inside you, stroking deep inside your wet cunt.

“Look at you, such a desperate little slut, so fucking cock starved, you gotta seduce your uber driver” He spat, full on pounding into your pussy, as he watched your juicy tits bounce up and down in his face.

Your pussy clenched tighter around him, his degrading words turning you on, and making you leak like a faucet. It feel so good to be getting fucked deep and hard by a big cock, and that’s the thing, this cock is too fucking good to have any restrictions.

“Take the condom off” You suddenly said, making Yeonjun halt his movements. He stared at you wide eyed, but you could see the dark desire, behind his pupils.

“W-wait, you want me to fuck you raw?” He asked, shock written all over his face. You nodded your head yes, biting down on your lip as you lifted your body from his lap and pulled the condom off in one pull. Yeonjun watched as you aligned his tip back up with your pussy, before sinking back down.

“Holyy- oh my god that feels so much goddamn better, fuck this is the best cock I ever had junie” You blabbered desperately, starting to bounce on his cock. Yeonjun lets out a pathetic whimper, the feeling of your tight cock, squeezing his throbbing dick with no restrictions, was far too overwhelming.

“Hell yeah, that’s it darling, fuck that cock like it’s yours, you deserve it baby” Yeonjun was also blabbering, eyes rolling to the back of his head, as he feels his stomach tightening, he felt pathetic for how close he already was to cumming.

The windows of the car were foggy, and if anyone were to walk uo to the door, they will definitely hear the sounds of your skin meeting his. Your legs were starting to sting and feel numb, and Yeonjun caught that right away. He took over, fucking into you like it’s no tomorrow, and finding your g-spot in the process.

“FUCK YES PLEASE, please please right there, that’s my spot god!! Yes” You slurred your words and pleaded with him, he was so deep inside you, that you could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. You couldn’t believe you were already about to cum, no one has ever made you cum this quick.

“Shit baby, fucking hell your pussy’s gonna make me cum so hard” He whined, reclining his seat back some more, as he fucked into you, like a rag dog. You could feel the knot in your stomach getting ready to unravel, as your legs started to tremble again, and you felt this intense tingling feeling in your stomach.

“Fuck stop squeezing me so tight baby, or I won’t have any other choice but to breed this slutty pussy” He said through gritted teeth, trying his absolute best, to not bust his nut inside you. You being the menace you are, you placed your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself, and started to bounce on his dick again.

“Wait, wait oh god I’m- I’m- c-um” He couldn’t even finish his sentence, before his hips stuttered, releasing thick white ropes of cum inside you, completing emptying out his balls. The feeling of his warm cum filling up your insides, triggered your orgasm, as you came and squirted all over him, fucking up his seats as well.

You both panted, chests heaving up and down, as you both came down from the intense highs. Your limp weak body, fell over on him, resting your head on his shoulder as you panted. He also laid his head on your shoulder, drawing little circles on your back.

“Wow did I really just fuck my Uber driver” You suddenly said, breaking the silence. He chuckled before giving your ass a squeeze, and pulling out a cloth from the glove compartment to clean you both up.

“Yup you sure did miss, but if it makes you feel better that was the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had” he smiled weakly at you, caressing your cheeks. You blushed at the romantic gesture, but not once stopping him, it honestly felt kinda nice.

Not long after, you guys got dressed and yeonjun brought you home, you made sure to give him a kiss goodbye, and you might have even gotten his number. You knew you would be contacting him again, not for that magic of a dick he has, but his car was really clean and he’s also really friendly.

*Uber Notification*: Y/n tipped you $100

Note: Thanks for the hookup baby, hmu anytime you feeling risky😏💋

Choi Yeonjun: Wow wtf, that’s a big tip😲 also uhhh could you please make sure to leave a 5 star review….

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖤𝗇𝖽．

A/n: Hola besties🫣 𝗂𝗄 𝗂𝗄 don’t scold me Ik I should have been published this, but I’m on vacation and I’m literally leaving nyc tomorrow sadly😓 It was so much fun!! But I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did, and feel free to leave any comments and reblogs ate greatly appreciated love uu🫶🏽🩷 not proofreading shii idgaf😚

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Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @pagelets @jakeswifez @beomjunnchoii25 @michaeljacksonsson @tyunderella

#txt hard hours #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt yeonjun #txt smut #txt imagines #smut #fanfic #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut #yeonjun txt #slut4heemasterlist #slut4heeworks #slut4heeupdates #slut4hee #feeling slutty #i want him inside me #need that

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imachaoticghost · 2 months ago

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Me gusta soñar, me gustas tu

Summary: Timebomb x reader matching things (accessories, clothes, tattoos or etc) because they would like to get married but uh you know (request)

Warnings: no plot, fluff, gn!reader, not proof read

Pairings: Alternate!Powder x reader x Ekko

A/n: since I didn't know if the request was meant for alternate powder or Jinx, I did both. Enjoy!

Alternate! Powder and ekko

I think if they want to get married, but they can't, they'd be the type to have promise rings.

Probably one with either three small gemstones of the colour of each (blue for powder, white or orange for ekko and whatever colour you like) or one with each of your initials engraved (as in EP and your initial)

Powder would probably have it on a chain around her neck, and Ekko either on his finger or in a chain too. Under his shirt probably, to not damage it or lose it.

You're just sipping on your drink, waiting for your two partners in one of the tables of the Last Drop. It's a lazy day, slow, sunny, nothing you wouldn't like to go out in. Vander is cleaning glasses when he notices the ring.

"What's that? Getting married already?" He teases, watching Powder and Ekko come in, light catching on the silver around Powder's necks. It isn't until Ekko puts his hand on the counter that he notices the gems on his finger. "Matching rings hm? Get engaged already" He teases again, serving them their drinks.

Benzo has about the same reaction when he walks in, a playful scowl on his face. "You're too young to be thinking about marriage" He scolds, not so playfully. But you all don't care, simply happy to have matching rings.

Then there's more permanent stuff, for example tattoos

I'd see ekko being a clock, and powder either a raven or some gears. Or then you could have the moon (powder) the sun (ekko) and the stars (you). Anything that is symbolic. The three of you would have the same tattoo with the three symbols.

I don't think they would outright tattoo their partners names on their skin, it feels too... impersonal in a way. Or maybe just not like them.

You were all lounging in Powder's hideout, thinking, talking. "What about tattoos?" You proposed, and immediately ekko started doodling.

"Yeah, maybe we could do like... I don't know, birds?" He chuckled, making various different designs.

When you finally picked your designs, you went to a tattoo artist, giving him a few days to create the stencil. In the end, Ekko chose to have his on his shoulder, and powder on her calf, the three of you showing it off once it was all done.

To be honest, it's probable all of your parents were quite sceptic about the tattoos. But once it was done, it was too expensive to get it off. So no one could do anything else than warn you it might not be a good idea.

It was. You kept it forever.

If they feel more like matching things casually, then there's three options

For clothes they'd probably go off a colour, for dates, for example, today everyone goes with a red item, like a jacket, a dress, etc.

Or maybe color coding, like, everyone wears a red top and a blue bottom.

Or maybe simply pattern matching. Something like that.

"I think we should do blue" Powder argued.

"But I want to wear my red jacket!" You complained. Ekko just laughed at your antics.

"But red doesn't go with my hair" she argued.

"It does, stop being a bitch." You muttered, shoving your red hoodie at her, slipping on your red jacket.

"You're finished?" Ekko mused, red coat already slipped on. "Were going to be late"

Powder pouted, nodding as you tugged her out, on your way to meeting with all of your friends. Everyone stared at the laughing couple you were, but how could you care when your girlfriend was snickering along with your boyfriend?

You could also match a piece of jewellery you would wear every day, so for example some earrings, a bracelet, a necklace, maybe everyone a different one but theme coded.

So let's say you do earrings, powder would be blue, ekko gold. So, you could be wearing sapphire gold earring, or a gold necklace and a blue gemstone.

More than everyone wearing the same piece of jewelry, they'd do like a theme and each wears their partner's theme. So ekko could be wearing a blue earring and a ring with your theme.

Or it vould be a charm more than a colour.

Everyone noticed it, from night to day, all of you had changed the usual jewelry you wore, ekko's plain silver earings had now each a small charm, different. Powder's necklace had, added to the crystal it used to have, two more charms with it. And you wore the same, well, not excatly, they had one you didn't, and you had one each didn't have.

And finally, the third idea I'd have would be key chains or trinkets. Something that reminds you of your two partners. Maybe custom stickers, or a key chain that says E and P, etc

You could have a phone cord made by powder with blue and golden pearls or maybe gears and clock charms, or a special key chain.

And they'd have the same. Of course, you add whatever feels like you to it. So let's say, you're red and roses, you would each make a phone cord or key chain (depending on preference) with blue pearls, mechanical charms, red pearls, rose charms and golden pearls and clock or clockwork charms.

"Wait- put more blue ones" Powded shoved more pearls towards you, your key chain having a majority of gold and your color. "Please" She pouted.

You willingly agreed, chuckling as she shoved the same pearls towards Ekko. "You too, there's almost none" she complained, like a child. Even if the majority of Ekko's was of both of your colours, barely having gold.

"Powder, we're going to end up with all blue ones" He chuckled, amused at her antics.

"Well that's good, everyone needs to known you're my partners." She scoffed, tugging you closer to her.

You ended up with an almost all blue key chain with mostly charms for Ekko and barely anything for you. Not that you were complaining. Now you had both your partners always in your pocket.

You could also wear matching nails, I feel like Ekko would love to paint his nails. Maybe a colour for each partner or the same colour for everyone. Although that feels less like their chaotic energy.

You held Ekko's hands, painting his nails, one blue, one gold, one of your color, another gold and another blue. Powder was besides you, shaking her hands to make them dry faster.

Soft music played in the background, humming along with it. Your nails had been painted by Powder and hers had been painted by Ekko.

"Do you like it?" You asked softly, examination his hands for any flaws in your paint. "It's cute" you hummed.

"I love it. It's really pretty" He chuckled, taking your hand and kissing it. "Like you" he winked.

"You're gonna mess up your nails" You complained, showing them off to powder. "Look, they're gorgeous"

"Like you" she hummed, grinning. They both stared so much you couldn't help but blush.

Jinx and ekko

If we're talking about Jinx, she would probably go the extra mile and get something more than rings, who knows how far that woman would go

If you're not much the extra type, she would do rings, and so would Ekko. Just like alternate timebomb, they would have something matching in the rings

Maybe three stones again, golden, blue and your colour, or maybe more like your three names together, but jinx would probably put yours in the middle

Ekko would just be the type to follow her ideas, as she's a wild card but in the good way. And she's dedicated

"And I mean, worst that can happen is that we have to make it ourselves" she joked, already picking scrap metal. She was going to make it herself, no matter what you would argue.

And then, a few days later, you would have each a ring around your neck, on a chain. Vi would ask her about it, and the firelight's children would definitely ask Ekko. But they would keep it to themselves, just happy to know they have their partners around their neck.

If we're talking tattoos, Jinx would get the biggest tattoo ever for you and Ekko, wherever you ask her to. Ekko would probably get it somewhere more discreet, he doesn't seem like the type to get visible tattoos, it's more something for you and her

The design would be way more attention calling, you could do birds, a raven, an owl and a bird for you, or symbols, her monkey, ekkos clock or gears and whatever you feel like fits you.

Jinx would totally tattoo your name if you ask her to, but ekko would probably tell her it's not the best idea, especially since she is still a criminal and the three of you are often in danger. Giving directly your partners' names isn't the best idea.

She showed up a few days after choosing the design, showing her back and moving her braids aside. "Look toots, I got the tatto" she giggled, showing off a monkey, a clock and your symbol. "It's about time yall get yours" she pouted.

Ekko shook his head, smiling. At least he had managed to convince her to not get your name. She went towards him, throwing herself on his shoulders. "Whatcha mocking me about hm?" She scolded playfully, glancing at your soft smile.

For casual matching, or date matching, jinx isn't the type to own a lot of different clothes, so she would probably add something symbolic of you to her outfit, like, let's say, a clock for ekko (I'm obsessed with the idea of clocks representing ekko) that she would wear every day

Ekko would do the same if you're up for it.

But if we're talking proper clothes matching, Jinx would just steal something, either from you or from piltover. She would do anything to make you and Ekko happy, your wish is her comand. And Ekko would just follow the vibe, he seems like the more passive type for some reason

If we're talking jewelry, Jinx would love to wear matching jewellery for you. Whether it's the same necklace, or a similar one, she says yes immediately.

Ekko might be a bit more difficult, but he would take an alternative. He would never outright refuse to match with you, how could he?

So for example, you could buy a matching set of earrings, necklace and bracelet, or something like that and they would each take one (jixn the necklace, ekko the earrings probably)

"Hey look what I found" you smiled, showing them three pairs of earring, one with a white crystal, one blue and one of your colour.

Jinx immediately threw herself to you, catching the earrings and gushing about them to Ekko. She took one of her colour, helping ekko put it on and begging you to let her. If you didn't have your ears pierced, you better have them pierced now.

Finally we have key chains. Well, I don't think any of them would be the key chain type so they'd probably do more like... charms that they put on their clothes and belts

Maybe something Jinx and Ekko would make for you, or that you make with them. Small trinkets you'd stick on your stuff

Ekko finally finished sculpting the same monkeys that were on his machine. He added a small key ring on top, putting it besides the other two. He just had to make the three clocks now and they would be done. Jinx would love to add the chains He thought.

"Almost done pretty boy?" You kissed his cheek. It was late, you should both be asleep. Jinx was already snoring on the couch, Isha laying in her arms.

"Almost. Go rest, I'll join you later" he murmured back, hugging you and tugging you on his lap. Maybe you should sleep in his arms, while he works.

And nails, jinx would love to do your nails like hers and also ekkos if he let's her. Just imagine, jinx seeing you wear her colours, I think she would be so happy and proud.

If not maybe Ekko would help you do your nails and you'd do his the same way, and you'd beg Jinx to let you do hers too.

I think that would be cute, that the three of you do each other nails, and make matching little designs and stuff

She was giggling like a school girl, painting your nails the same colour as hers. Your back was against Ekko's chest, his legs on either side of you, his arms around you.

As soon as Jinx finished painting all of your nails you pulled her in, wrapping your legs and arms around her, pressing her back against your chest. And that's how you spent the rest of the evening, all cuddled up.

Something else Jinx would love to match would be stuff in your hair. If you have it long enough to braid, she's sticking stuff into yours and Ekkos hair before you even know about it

Maybe just the same golden stuff she has or maybe actual little trinkets and charms that she made or found

"Your hair is so pretty you know that?" She murmured, braiding your hair, adding the same golden charms she had added into her hair and into Ekko's. "So soft, so shiny, how do you do it?" She pouted a bit.

Ekko watched her with a smile, adding the same charms to her own braids.

A/n: my phone hates me and I think this isn't the right version. But have it anyways because I will not proof read this. I'm sleep deprived and I have to sleep. I hope you like it ;)

#Spotify #ekko x reader #jinx x reader #powder x reader #jinx x ekko x reader #timebomb x reader #alternate timebomb x reader #chaos writes

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loki-cees-all · 3 months ago

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Space Oddity {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : While preparing for Stark Tower’s Halloween party, Loki misunderstands the point of a Halloween Costume. Luckily he has you to help him navigate such tricky waters.

W/c : 10k words

Content / Warnings : Established Relationship, Fluff, Smut, Loki being a little massive shit and also a silly goose.

Author's Note : Last year a certain LIFE-RUINER (affectionate) dressed up as Ziggy Stardust/David Bowie/Aladdin Sane for Halloween, and it permanently altered my brain chemistry. Because of (or in spite of?) the ensuing brain rot, it took 11 months of me staring at that picture to finally come up with an idea to include Loki in that delicious little mix.

P.S. I do recommend listening to Space Oddity by David Bowie while you read this. If you start the song at "Humanity’s wide variety of music..." then depending on your reading speed, the song's first Verse should start right at the big reveal 🤭

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

A crisp, hazy mist obscured your view of the ground from the 22nd floor of Stark Tower. Sunrise was yet to fully finish, and the Earth below was quiet, still adjusting to the uneasy transition from slumber to consciousness. Within that ambiguity, it was easy to believe that you’d somehow awoken on an entirely new planet.

You often wondered what that was like, to feel the soil from an uncharted world give way underneath your boots. To feel a breeze coming off an ocean no other human had ever seen before, or to look up into the night sky and see the stars of a brand new galaxy. How colossal, how surreal, how inferior it must make someone feel.

On lazy mornings such as this one, you’d often ask your partner what it was like to be an astronaut. He’d hand you a steaming cup of coffee as he rejoined you in bed, and with a contemplative expression, he’d always respond with a brand new answer.

You suspected the change in response was just due to him recalling his first trip to a different realm, and each time you always listened very carefully. You always closed your eyes and tried to lose yourself in the picturesque descriptions of fantasy worlds you’d probably never be able to see personally.

Sometimes, if you focused hard enough, you could almost smell the forests of a brand new planet. You could almost taste its fresh water and its different fruit, and feel the immaculate breezes of its unstudied seasons. But then you’d open your eyes again, and when you looked through the skyscraper’s window, the few dapples of orange and yellow leaves breaking through the dense fog would let you know this was still planet Earth.

But that wasn’t always so bad. Occasionally, there would be several weeks without a world-ending threat breathing down the Avenger’s necks, and that meant you could pretend you were all just regular people. You could sleep in or get up extra early to watch the world come to life, you could rush around and do any of the million things that needed to be done, or you could simply lay there and bask in that sweet silence.

Today, after having coffee in bed, your only concrete plan was a shopping trip in the West Village with Wanda and Nat. Your only solid goal was to finally settle on the perfect costumes for the Halloween party happening just a few days from now.

It was no secret that the Avengers had acquired a sizable contingency of cynics over the years, ones who weren’t shy about openly criticizing the entire team. From the collateral damage incurred during battle, to the individual actions of its members both on and off the team - anything they did was suspect, and absolutely nothing was beyond complaint. Thus, Pepper Potts had made it her personal mission to finally correct the planet’s opinions of its heroes.

In addition to the team’s assistance towards rebuilding efforts after their battles were won and having its members performing very public charity work, Stark Tower was starting to host more “fun” events in order to further boost the team’s positive image.

“To get your names in the papers without a rising death toll immediately afterwards,” was specifically how Pepper had explained her initiative. And naturally, that meant a Halloween Party was deemed absolutely necessary.

Anyone who was even tertiarily related to the Avengers was going to be there: from the low-level, but still notable, world government leaders, to the honorary members from all corners of the globe. And of course, plenty of reporters and photographers would be in attendance, all of them ready to document every single fun moment. It was set to become an impressive party, and knowing Pepper, a very classy event - so it shouldn’t have been at all surprising that most of the team had become hyper-focused on winning the party’s costume contest.

Initially, everyone kept their costumes a secret from one another, and the trash-talking was of a mostly friendly nature. But then rumors started flying around, and gradually, some members of the team started taking the competition far too seriously. Alliances were formed, and subsequently broken. The taunting soon became serious, and then reached devastating levels, which ultimately escalated into a four-day period where Tony and Steve couldn’t even be in the same room together without a physical fight breaking out.

Thankfully, the girls were far more casual about it, and that afternoon’s shopping trip was planned to be one of mutual support. Wanda was hoping to finalize her couple’s costume with Vision, and even though she hadn’t mentioned it directly, you knew that Nat was attempting a similar endeavor with Bruce, despite his timid insistence that he wasn’t a “costume guy”. It was so adorably endearing that it almost gave you a toothache.

Unfortunately, things were not so cut and dry with Loki.

He had yet to mention the Halloween party on his own, nor had he participated in any group discussions on the subject - he even ignored Tony's attempts to goad him into verbal sparring matches, something Loki ordinarily enjoyed. Not that anyone should be genuinely excited about performative media relations disguised as a fun party, but nonetheless, you were starting to become concerned about his lack of interest.

Private conversations with him about finding a costume had gone nowhere. He didn’t understand why he needed to dress up at all, or why you cared so much about it. And while he wasn’t saying it out loud, you didn’t need to be a genius to guess why he had reservations: everyone else already believed he was an actual monster, so shouldn’t he just be himself on Halloween?

Only a few weeks had passed since you’d moved in together, but it was going really well, all things considered. The otherworldly being you’d fallen in love with still didn’t understand most Earthly customs, and you very much enjoyed being his Midgardian teacher. But coming to terms with what he’d done while under the influence of the Mind Stone was still an ongoing struggle for him.

Loki had good days, but he also had very, very bad days. He still had nightmares about his past, and frequently his worries about the future kept him helplessly trapped in bed. It broke your heart to witness, and even though he’d probably never reveal the full details about his time with The Black Order and Thanos, he at least never stopped you from offering him comfort in the middle of the night.

Because he wasn’t the monster his critics or inner demons claimed he was, no matter how convincing they were. He deserved a good and peaceful life just as much as everyone else did, and you wanted nothing more than to help him finally have one.

When you’d left the apartment later that morning, Loki was lounging peacefully on the living room couch, his nose buried in the oldest book you’d ever seen. A gentle smile had tugged at his lips while you kissed his forehead on your way out, and with tremendous love in his eyes, he said that he’d miss you terribly while you were gone.

After an early lunch at The Coppola Cafe, the three of you spent the afternoon browsing what felt like every single vintage clothing shop in the West End. It didn’t take long for Wanda and Nat to finalize their costumes, and eventually you did manage to find something for yourself, but deciding on your partner’s costume was another story entirely. A terribly complicated task, one that was impossible to accomplish and rotten with trap doors and landmines hiding within the deceptive labyrinth that was Loki.

The girls did their best to make helpful suggestions during the shopping trip, offering such innocent and guiltless ideas like a mailman, or a stuffy professor - or perhaps he could dress up as Shakespeare so he could spend the entire party wandering around quoting Hamlet. Or maybe instead, he should just wear a Ghostface mask and a long black cloak, so he had a good excuse to stay concealed and silent all night long.

You appreciated their efforts, but none of those ideas were quite right for him. You couldn’t really explain why, but they just weren’t…Loki.

By late afternoon, your mind had turned into a jumbled mess. Unable to think clearly anymore, you resorted to aimless purchases of extra things neither of you probably wouldn’t ever use - cheap makeup sets, bottles of fake blood, a set of vampire fangs, a pair of cat ears. Several brightly colored wigs, a second-hand cape, and a large bag of Halloween candy to stress eat later finally completed your purchases for the day.

The group came back to the Tower just before dusk, and the living room of your apartment was quiet when you walked inside. A few lamps illuminated on the end tables gave the space a dark, brooding mood, which was greatly appreciated after such a busy and disappointing day. But unfortunately, Loki was no longer on the couch where you’d left him, and that old book was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey! I’m home!” you called out while setting your shopping bags down by the front door.

An odd silence was the only thing that greeted you.

Usually, Loki would be at the front door, ready to sweep you up in his arms whenever you returned home. But the apartment remained unmoving, even as you called out a second time. When he still didn’t appear, you poked your head into the kitchen while shrugging off your jacket and slipping off your shoes. But that room was also completely vacant, with no evidence of dinner being started or already had.

Loki preferred spending most of his time alone, but occasionally he’d allow an enticing bribe from Bruce or Thor to drag him out of the apartment; maybe he was just studying something interesting up in Bruce’s lab, or perhaps he’d agreed to help his brother play a prank on someone. Grateful for the opportunity to wallow in solitude for a bit, you pulled the giant bag of Halloween candy from a shopping bag and made your way towards the back of the apartment.

You padded down the empty hallway where there was still no sign of Loki. Everything in the entire apartment was clean, and in its place. There was absolutely nothing wrong, and yet it felt like the weight of the entire world was resting heavily on your shoulders. You tried to reassure yourself that it was nothing that a coma-inducing amount of candy couldn’t fix, but even that was becoming less believable with each step forward.

As you approached the bedroom, you thought you could hear the very faint sounds of guitar strumming through the closed door. That gave you pause; certain that you hadn’t left anything on before leaving that morning, you cautiously moved closer, until your ear was pressed against the door.

Yes, that was music you were hearing - familiar music, even though you couldn’t quite place it yet, and you couldn’t help but to smile to yourself. Loki was home after all, and he had been entertaining himself with music while you were out. It thoroughly warmed your heart with an unexplainable feeling of serenity, and pleased that he’d remembered how to use the record player on his own, you waited behind the door to listen for another moment.

Humanity’s wide variety of music was one of the few things about our culture that he’d expressed genuine interest in - which of course, you happily encouraged. It was so much fun introducing him to everything from the classic composers of the 18th and 19th centuries, to the psychedelic rockers of the 20th century. From the upbeat pop groups of your middle school years, to the angsty singers that made up the soundtrack of your early twenties.

You closed your eyes to focus solely on whatever he was listening to now. The music itself was playing low, the singer’s impassive voice just barely audible to you. But you couldn’t tell if it was a really old recording, or if the sound was just distorted after passing through the door.

Off in the distance, a punctuated drum stroke marked the countdown to some inconceivable event, and adrenaline suddenly filled your bloodstream. A low hum vibrated underneath the drum, steady until it wasn’t, and then gradually it shifted into a cosmic wail that seemed to be transmitting itself across all of time and space. A cacophony of instruments, from both the planet Earth and of the stars themselves, finally crescendoed together in a powerful array of astronomical declaration.

A declaration that something was happening at that very moment. Breathed into life with a static kiss, that something was so astonishingly important, and it vehemently demanded immediate witness.

Your curiosity, overwhelming to the point that you couldn’t take it any longer, forced you to carefully reach for the door handle. Its metal, both warm and cold simultaneously, felt like home. It felt unreal.

This felt like opening the hatch to an ancient spacecraft.

This is Ground Control to Major Tom…

You pushed open the door, and immediately let out a startled laugh. Standing in front of the bedroom mirror was a tall and lanky figure, turning himself back and forth while carefully examining his reflection. That part wasn’t surprising; but rather, it was the way he’d dressed himself that was completely unexpected.

You’ve really made the grade…

Bright red and blue stripes lined the figure’s jumpsuit from shoulder to toe, each one evenly separated by thin lines of white. Familiar dark curls cascaded and twisted down past a pair of golden, glittering shoulder pads that only amplified his already impressive stature. Across his right eye, stretching from well below his cheekbone up to meet with his natural hairline, was a crimson lightning bolt. Its perfectly jagged edges were outlined in shimmering blue, and the leather platform boots on his feet were a brilliant, shining red.

And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear…

You knew it wasn’t actually Ziggy Stardust standing there; logically, you knew that much to be true. David Bowie had died several years ago, and while you now believed in alien life on other planets, and magic, and superheroes - you still knew the matter of ghosts to be entirely science fiction.

Rational thought, if you had been capable of it in that moment, would have told you that this was just your celestial partner practicing another one of his illusions. But this mirage was so much more powerful than reason, or fact, or reality could have ever hoped to be. While shoulder-strung spectral harps blared from the record player and the harmonized magnetism of flesh and blood and God stood before you, the only conclusion to be reached was that you’d finally lost your entire mind.

Now it’s time to leave the capsule if you dare…

Other than his hair, his illusion was categorically perfect: the only hint of Loki underneath this glamour was the flicker of mischievous green hiding behind heterochromatic eyes. But those weren’t Loki’s cheekbones, or his lips, or his nose.

They were David fucking Bowie’s.

This is Major Tom to Ground Control…

Your jaw dropped even further when he finally noticed you. He turned someone else’s body, and he lifted someone else’s chin. The illustrious and supernal smile he flashed in your direction tugged at someone else’s lips. But the confidence that radiated out of him, like the infernal rays of an ever-bursting star, belonged to Loki, and Loki alone.

It was different from Bowie’s, but still somehow the same; despite the oddity of both their ensembles, neither outfit had worn either man. And similar to that ethereal mortal from over 50 years ago, Loki’s aura overrode any bewildered question of why, and instead begged the eternal question of how?

I’m stepping through the door…

How was he making this look work for him? Just like Bowie, Loki was equal parts striking and ridiculous. He was magnetic and breathtaking, he was pulling you in while simultaneously stunning the oxygen from your lungs. No thoughts, no words, no sounds could ever truly capture the true essence of this scene, and all you could manage was another stunned laugh as you looked him up and down.

His lips finally moved, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. A symphony of guitars and keyboards and organs and stringed instruments all crescendoed together to effectively pay tribute to the creation of this universe and drown out his voice. The sound, dizzying and disorienting, overpowered the feel of the floor beneath your feet until gravity was no longer enough to keep you tethered to the Earth.

And I’m floating in the most peculiar way…

Your mind, completely overwhelmed by the glowing specter just ten feet away, had become entirely blank. You were rendered so totally speechless that you forgot every single detail about your past. You simply weren’t you anymore; you were an astronaut from a distant planet on the other side of the universe, and you always had been.

You weren’t standing on the 22nd floor of Stark Tower, you were opening the hatch of an imaginary spacecraft, you were taking that first step out onto an unexplored moon. You were leaving the very first footprints upon its previously untouched surface, and you were carving your name into its virgin moondust. You were leaving your mark for future generations to someday gaze upon, in sheer awe of the audacity to wonder what else could be out there.

And the stars look very different today…

Without even noticing, you let go of the bag of Halloween candy; whether it also began floating or if it crashed to your bedroom floor was no longer any of your concern. All you could think about was if it felt this surreal, this mind-blowing to look upon the real David Bowie. How did anybody manage to not spontaneously combust in his presence?

All sense of relative dimensions lost their meaning. Space was completely irrelevant, time was a fictional construct. The universe was never going to stop expanding, so would anyone ever be able to see it all? How could a numerical value ever be assigned to the entire concept of time? Why were any of us here?

For here, am I sitting in a tin can?

You had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but at some point, Loki must have realized that he’d broken you. Without losing his proud smile, he waved a hand in the direction of your record player. Its needle lifted, and an eerie silence immediately descended over the room.

As soon as the music stopped, part of the spell clouding your mind vanished. A rush of oxygen suddenly filled your lungs, and your heart finally returned to its beating. Blood resumed its journey through your veins, and the floor became substantial underneath your feet again. You blinked once, twice, three times and shook your head, trying to clear it so that you might be able to ask just one of the million questions that all popped up at the exact same time.

“Something the matter, dear?”

Your eyes flew back open. Unfortunately, his glamour was still in place, and it was Ziggy Stardust that gingerly approached your position by the door. And when he’d spoken, it wasn’t Loki’s voice you’d heard - it was the voice of David Bowie.

Unsure of what to do with yourself, inundated and engulfed in sensations of the most flustered manner, you squeezed your eyes shut again. Your arms crossed and uncrossed, your knees locked and unlocked as your weight shifted back and forth. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head again.

“Loki, um…What the…” You had to pause to let out a deep, shaky breath, to run your hands up and down your face in a desperate attempt to wake from this very confusing dream. “What, um - are you doing, exactly?”

The air around you warmed considerably as he stopped in front of you, and the amusement in Bowie’s voice, so smooth and so sure of himself, was more than palpable as he spoke.

“Preparing for the masquerade, my dear. The same thing you were doing all afternoon.”

A gentle finger tilted your chin upwards, silently requesting that your eyes open again. When you did, it was Ziggy Stardust staring down at you from his impressive height, his expression curious and the unnecessarily tall boots he stood upon just making everything worse for you.

You gasped breathlessly. Your brain almost melted entirely. The massive crush you’d had on David Bowie when you were 13 years old suddenly roared to life once more. You’d never told anyone about it, because everyone else your age was in love with the much more socially acceptable choices of Nick Carter or Justin Timberlake. Back then, admitting to a near-fatal attraction on an androgynous, bisexual and eccentric musician from the 1970s would have been akin to signing your own death warrant.

Nowadays, such a crush was far more acceptable to have, but you thought those feelings had faded away with adolescence. There’d been no reason to bring it up, not even when you’d first introduced Loki to Bowie’s music. And now you were standing face-to-chest with the physical embodiment of your lie by omission.

Overwhelmed once more, you backed away from him and covered your eyes. “Okay, can you - take those boots off, please? You’re already ridiculously taller than me, so you don’t need them…”

“As you wish, darling.”

His voice, though sincere, was still someone else’s. Admittedly, it was intoxicating to hear Bowie’s voice addressing you in such a loving, familiar tone - but it was also incredibly intimidating. You were already on the verge of collapse as it was; you didn’t need yet another reason to make a very rapid crash landing to the floor.

Carefully, you let out a very slow breath to steady yourself. “And - can you also go back to using your voice, please?”

There was a brief moment of silence, and a part of you wished you could see the enchanting smirk he almost certainly wore at that very moment. When he finally answered, it was in his own voice again, but it was just as amused as Bowie’s voice had been.

“As you wish, darling.”

You let out a shuddered sigh of relief, and your body relaxed somewhat. When you cracked open your eyelids from behind your fingers, he was still Ziggy, but the sight was a little easier to deal with now that he stood at his normal height and spoke with his actual voice.

Now that he was closer, you took in the comforting notes of citrus and cedarwood on his skin, scents you knew to be Loki’s. You swallowed hard, your pupils dilated wildly as you finally allowed yourself to look him over.

“You did this for the Halloween party?” you asked softly.

Loki’s expression was much more reserved now, and he nodded earnestly. “Yes, I thought you would enjoy it. Is that not the case?”

Your breath hitched as you reached out to touch him. Your fingertips brushed along the golden collar around his neck. The material was soft and pliable, not like the polyester you’d find on a cheap costume from a pop-up Halloween store. No, the fabric Loki wore was both real, and it wasn’t. It was the truth, but it was also a lie. He was both mortal and ethereal simultaneously.

“And what made you choose this version of David Bowie to imitate?”

The reimagined figure of Ziggy Stardust shrugged nonchalantly. His gaze, as intent and dedicated as ever, remained locked on your expression while your fingers drifted over to his shoulder pads, and then back down to the center of his chest.

“Well, the other night you remarked on how much I supposedly resembled this particular mortal…”

A shy smile pulled at your lips. “Okay, go on…”

He reached out to caress your cheek, his thumb soft and solid against your skin. “And I was thinking about that film you showed me. The one that used music to tell its story…”

You stifled another giggle by pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Both of your hands found their way to his chest, one of them pulling the zipper of his jumpsuit until you could see just the barest hint of his chest hair.

“A music video. The Space Oddity music video, specifically…”

Ziggy, or Loki - whomever it was - donned a playful grin. “Yes, of course. With the oscillating, dark-green lines. I quite enjoyed that one…”

You nodded absentmindedly. Your fingers, like they had a mind of their own, tugged the zipper down just a little bit further. Its metal teeth, crafted with the utmost precision possible, gave way and unlocked so easily to reveal even more of his skin, and your heart hammered inside your chest.

It was impossible that Loki couldn’t see right through your expression, that he didn’t know about the salacious thoughts swirling around in your head. Like he’d expected you to have this very reaction, he gently slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, until you were pressed all the way against him.

“Darling, I know that the stress of preparing for this particular soiree has been weighing heavily on your mind as of late…” he continued with a soft murmur as he delicately spun you both around and guided you back towards the bed. “And I wanted to do something to help alleviate that burden for you…”

Your heart leapt violently into your throat. At first, it was the surprise that he’d noticed your inner turmoil that did you in, but then it shifted towards dismay over you apparently not hiding it as well as you thought you were.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied with an innocent smile as he slowly lowered you both down to the mattress.

But yes, of course you’d been feeling tons of pressure lately about the party. The Avengers had all known about your relationship with Loki for a while, but the rest of the Tower still didn’t - and neither did the rest of the world. They were all going to find out at the Halloween party.

Loki chuckled and allowed his weight to fully settle on top of yours. “What have I told you about good girls who like to lie, my love?” he murmured softly, his lips brushing teasingly against yours.

While you didn’t really care what everyone else thought about you, what they thought about Loki was many magnitudes of greater importance. He was already in a very precarious situation as it was; depending on the pundit or publication, his every scowl was interpreted as one of disdain for the human race, his every word a threat that he was just moments away from leading another alien invasion.

They already hated him, and they’d never forgive him for New York, no matter how well he’d behaved since.

Your breath shuddered, and your fingers couldn’t help but tangle between the dark curls that were so effortlessly Loki’s. “That they should…do it more, probably?”

Any mistake he made in the field was grounds for his dismissal, anytime he drank a glass of wine instead of a beer was his blatant attempt to dismantle democracy itself. His every move was overanalyzed and deciphered by a bunch of people who had never even met him, who never even cared to know what he was like behind closed doors or in private, when he actually felt safe to be himself.

They didn’t even care that he’d been corrupted by measures of torture they’d never have been able to survive themselves. Or that it had been entirely against his will, or that even while his invasion was taking place, he was subtly laying the groundwork for the Avengers to be able to stop him in the first place.

“A valiant attempt, darling, but we both know that wasn’t what I meant…” he whispered hotly, nippling at your jaw. He adjusted the angle of his hips, and he began to roll them against yours.

You moaned softly in response. Your mind began to melt, this time in pleasure instead of shock. The juxtaposition of Loki and Bowie and Ziggy, though confusing at first, started to make sense. It scratched an itch you couldn’t possibly have guessed that you had, and it created an intense need deep within your soul.

Unable to resist him any further, you captured his lips in a fiery kiss, and he eagerly returned it. His mouth worked hard and fast against yours, in a brand new style of coruscating and devastating passion. Hot and heavy, the kiss tasted just like Loki’s always had, but now it contained an extra dose of stardust.

Loki's hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones, his hips again rolling against yours. His breath was quick against your skin, his needy groans like music to your ears. This transcendental combination of the past and present, of both the mortal plane and of the stars themselves, somehow craved you this badly and he wasn’t even afraid to show it.

It was so strange; Loki may have come from the stars, but somehow, he was still beholden to you here on Earth.

Within moments your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. Your tongue swiped at his bottom lip, requesting entry, and he granted it. Your hands drifted to his neck, his drifted to your thighs, and your bodies writhed together, eagerly, desperately, hungrily.

The heat between you escalated even further - the kind of heat that usually precipitated the creation of a new star in the sky. Just as you began to yank the jumpsuit’s zipper down further, a shimmer of emerald washed down your bodies, effortlessly and fully undressing the both of you.

You fucking loved it when he did that.

Loki could use his magic to do anything he wanted; he could, and had already, used it to destroy, and to maim, and to control. But now he only used it to protect the ones he’d previously tried to conquer. Now he just used it to love - or when he couldn’t handle not being inside you for another second.

His skin was hot against yours, his hands worshiped your curves. Your body stretched and arched underneath his, taking him in, making love to him like it was the very first time. It always felt that way, like you were floating one hundred thousand miles above the Earth, like the stars were finally within reach and only now could you actually reach them.

Your fingernails dug into his hips. The sound of the creaking bed was soon drowned out by breathless moans against your ear, of prayers and curses and promises. Your toes curled, your eyelids fluttered shut. Wild movements crescendoed into the purest form of what you knew to be the truth: the Earth was blue, the moon was silver, and Loki’s love would always be with you no matter where he went.

The orgasm ripped through you like a gravitational force collapsing the entire universe. Your muscles tensed, your body trembled underneath him. Pleasure seeped out of your pores and you cried out for him, incoherent and delirious. It felt like you had left your body entirely - remarkably disconnected from reality, but still safely anchored to him.

Loki fell off the edge just after you did. His muscles contracted as he clung to you, his voice nothing but shameless groans and heated gasps. With parted lips and a heavy breath, he intertwined his fingers with yours, he buried his face into your neck, and together your bodies finally collapsed within that mutual satisfaction.

An immeasurable length of time passed during the quiet contentment that followed, and by now, the sun had fully set. Unsure of whether you were just dozing or if you’d actually joined the astral plane, you allowed yourself to remain limp and boneless in his arms. Once again, gravity had no authority here, and you found peace just drifting aimlessly through the ever-growing expansion of outer space.

“You never answered my earlier question, darling….”

Loki’s demulcent voice gently pulled you back down to Earth. Your eyelids struggled to open underneath the pressure of the planet’s immense gravity, and suddenly you couldn’t remember anything that had transpired beforehand.

“No, I’m...pretty sure I answered it already,” you replied with a false confidence, stretching your body against his in an obvious attempt to distract him.

He chuckled and shifted with you, propping himself up on one elbow. His other hand traced a swirling pattern along your hip. “And I’m quite certain that you didn’t, love…”

For someone called the God of Mischief, he was surely determined to never let you get away with anything. You let out a laughing groan of frustration, and as your eyes opened, as you looked up into his, your breath vanished from your lungs.

The stars looked so different now. They weren’t Ziggy’s, nor Bowie’s, anymore - they were Loki’s. His glamour had started to fail while you were making love, and now the large constellations of the deepest greens and blues, of Loki himself, were all that stared lovingly back at you.

Loki grinned when he noticed the awe in your expression. His brow arched in a curious and teasing fashion when you couldn’t answer him.

“My goodness, she’s turned into a cosmonaut and floated away, hasn’t she…?” he murmured softly, pretending to talk to himself. He took his fingers and made them dance against the sensitive skin of your neck to get your attention. “Hello, darling? Are you still there?”

Almost immediately you were drowning in a fit of giggles. You scrunched up your shoulders and tried to squirm away, laughing and cursing at him while Loki continued his teasing. But his fingers, tender yet relentless on your sensitive skin, made it impossible to keep your eyes open or coordinate your muscles enough to put a stop to his attack.

“Yes, hello? I was wondering if you’ve seen a beautiful girl in there?” he continued in that same vexatious tone, his hold on you tightening as he nuzzled his face to yours. “She’s my darling companion, and I’ve been missing her terribly. Can you tell her to come back to me, please?”

You let out more breathless laughs, you made more desperate wriggles in his grasp. If you’d been able to see anything, you would have seen his cheeky grin and sparkling eyes, all lit up with mirth and devilry. There was absolutely nothing Loki loved more than play, and perhaps that was the true meaning of life anyway.

But when you finally cried out for mercy, he instantly relented, granting you more benevolence within a single moment of play than he’d ever been given in centuries. And all things considered, Loki was still quite delicate in his handling of you. After all, he had gentleness woven deep within him - the kind that had developed out of defiance, not because it was taught, and that just made him all the more genuine.

Dutifully, like it was an honor, he shifted your bodies so that he was on his back and you were nestled safely to his chest. Your leg curled around his, and after his fingers completed their soothing motions over the skin he’d just attacked, they moved in wide swoops along your back.

“I suppose I should repeat my question then?” he murmured softly after kissing your temple.

His skin, soft and smooth and pale, now smelled like an ancient fire that could burn his way through anything, if he’d wanted it to. It was intoxicating. You wondered if that was the same scent that had once filled the air of Asgard, if you’d ever get to experience it yourself someday.

“Mmm, yeah. I think you should…”

Loki cleared his throat, hesitating. His fingertips drifted up to the divot of your shoulder. “Did you truly not enjoy the costume I chose?”

His voice was so quiet, so tender that it made your heart ache a little bit. You shifted on the bed, leaning up to look him in the eyes.

“No, I did love it, Loki! It was really thoughtful of you, and for a second, I…” You smiled fondly, recalling the moment you first saw him, while one of your favorite songs ever blasted from your record player. “I really thought it was actually David Bowie, back from the dead…”

Loki quirked an eyebrow. “And so naturally, your first reaction was to…laugh at it?”

Your lips pursed together, trying to suppress another one. “Okay, I’m sorry about that. But I wasn’t laughing at the costume, it was honestly just…really overwhelming to walk in and see so unexpectedly…”

“Oh, you found it to be overwhelming, did you?” Loki grinned again, apparently possessing an infinite supply of them. “My poor little dearest, I’m afraid you only have yourself to blame for that.”

“Me?!” you laughed incredulously. “But I’m the victim here!”

So sure of himself, Loki gave a teasing nod. “Yes, you see, darling - I was in the process of choosing the appropriate level of detail for the illusion when you so rudely interrupted me…”

You maintained a playful, sarcastic expression as he explained himself. “Sure, sure. Or you could have just, you know…locked the bedroom door if you didn’t want to be interrupted…”

Loki chucked and playfully swatted at your hip. “So then tell me, what about it was too much for you? I had already decided that the red hair was a bit excessive, but should I alter the clothing as well? The voice?” he asked, his hand now softly soothing the skin he’d just swatted.

You silently thanked whatever it was other there that Loki had decided to keep his actual hair; it was one of his best features. Almost automatically, your fingers drifted through those gorgeous strands of caliginous curls, relishing in their strength and fluidity. He let out a tranquil hum when your touch grazed his scalp, and the sound was so effortless, so real, that nothing else could ever compare.

Unfortunately, your thoughts then drifted towards far less pleasant topics.

No one in their right mind could ever bring Loki’s capabilities as a sorcerer into question, especially not during battle. In fact, Wanda had previously expressed feelings of inadequacy when comparing her talents to his. But he had spent entire centuries perfecting his craft, he’d dedicated entire human lifetimes to his studies - to the point where most people remained completely unaware of its full extent once an illusion had been cast.

A large part of that was because he preferred to remain an unanswerable question to everyone else, especially after the attack on New York. He’d rather they looked at his daggers instead of at his soul, or at the black heart he worried was the true source of his seidr. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was truly capable of, lest they fear him even more - or try to use his own knowledge against him.

But if he wore the illusion of one of Bowie’s personas to the party - not dressed as, but if he actually was the physical embodiment of Ziggy Stardust come back to life - then everyone would know just how afraid of him they should be. You could see the fear-mongering op-ed headlines already - Former Alien Invader Transforms Himself into a Dead Rocker. What’s to Stop Him from Imitating the President Next?

And the critics who didn’t make that massive jump towards an impossible conclusion? You already knew that if he wore the wrong costume to the party, they’d have even more reason to pick him apart; if they secretly loved his costume, they’d simply accuse him of pandering. There was literally no direction for him to go that wouldn’t result in more needless hatred being spewed at him.

Even more pressing than all of that, what if they accused him of corrupting an innocent human when they learned about your relationship? You desperately didn’t want to make his life harder than it needed to be, but neither could you face bringing that concern up to him; what if he secretly agreed with them? What if he decided he was defiling your entire life just by existing within it?

What if he decided to leave you, in order to correct that grievous mistake?

Your fingertips gently traced the angle of his jaw. His eyes drifted closed as he clearly savored your touch, and his expression was just so serene, so peaceful. You couldn’t let him sacrifice that tranquility for the sake of a party; Loki may not have needed your protection on the battlefield, but you sure as hell weren’t going to let him wander into danger back at home.

“Well, maybe the issue is that you were using an illusion, instead of a costume…”

His eyes fluttered open beneath a furrowed brow. His pupils widened before fixating on you. “I don’t understand. The goal is to become the subject in question, is it not?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again; sometimes he surprised you with how human he was, and other times it was because of how alien he was. Letting out a slow breath, you pushed yourself up to sitting next to him. Your legs curled over to the side, and you draped yourself across his chest.

“I think the real issue is that you might be slightly misunderstanding the point of a costume contest,” you began with a gentle smile. “Using magic to alter your appearance for a contest could be considered…cheating, by some people.”

His expression was tender, but unrelenting. “I’m still not seeing the problem, darling. If I’m to become someone else in order to participate, then I’m going to become someone else…”

“But the whole point is how much effort you put into the costume,” you explained with a gentle head tilt. “It’s about how creative you can be with either a limited skill set, or a small budget, or shortened time constraints…”

You paused for a moment to let your words sink in before continuing.

“And I’m so sorry, but using magic just…isn’t that much effort for you. No matter how amazing or lifelike the illusion is.”

He nodded, and his eyes flickered with understanding. For a very brief moment, he seemed to be taking your words to heart. But when his lips curved into a cheeky grin, you knew he was about to make another snarky comment.

“You’re saying Stark will have a conniption if I win the costume contest at his own party? Is that it?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes while matching his smile. It was actually incredible that he still had this much energy to devote towards acting like a total menace. “Yes, if it helps you to think about it like that, then that is exactly what I’m trying to say…”

Loki continued thinking about your explanation for another moment, his gaze distant while his hand ran along the length of your arm. Eventually, the grin on his face slowly shifted towards one of true sincerity.

“Alright then. What would you suggest I do instead?”

You met his gaze with an even bigger smile of your own. All that remained of his illusion was a jagged, crimson lightning bolt stretching down his cheek, and you brought your fingertips down to gently trace along the bolt’s edges. His skin was so very soft, the transition between alabaster and crimson so seamless. It was only then that you remembered one of the purchases made earlier that day with Wanda and Nat.

“Well, for starters…I think we ought to actually paint this design on your face.”

Before he could even respond, you had already hopped out of bed - not that you would have responded to him anyway. And while wearing nothing but a scheming grin, you practically soared across the room, stopping just long enough to grab a few clothes from the bedroom floor on your way to the living room.

“We ought to do what, darling?” Loki’s incredulous voice called out after you disappeared through the doorway.

As you hurried into the living room, you bounced on one foot, and then the other, while pulling the pair of panties up to your hips. After clumsily slipping the t-shirt over your head and guiding your arms through its sleeves, you lowered down to your knees next to the shopping bags left by the front door.

Did you have any experience with painting faces? None whatsoever.

Was that going to stop you now? Absolutely not. His illusion may have been overwhelming, but Loki’s inspiration of picking a David Bowie character for his Halloween costume was beyond perfect, and you were going to do whatever it took to make that idea a more feasible reality.

Rummaging past the bright pink wig and the fringed flapper dress and the vampire fangs purchased earlier that day, you finally found it: a palette of Halloween make-up. The flat, rectangular box contained a few small brushes and a row of circular discs, each one filled with a different and very bright shade of creamy, metallic make-up.

It was definitely a very cheap make-up set, and probably had way too many questionable ingredients that you’d never be able to fully investigate, but it should work just fine for this little trial - as long as Loki let you anywhere near him with it. You were sure that he would after batting your pretty little eyelashes at him.

Back in the bedroom, you could hear him shifting on the bed. You shot back up to your feet. “Don’t get up! Just stay right there, Loki, I’m coming back!”

You carefully ripped into the package as you padded across the living room. Not only was this your first time painting someone’s face, but it might be the first time Loki’d ever had his face painted as well. A twinge of excitement, laced with a hint of unease, swam freely inside your veins; there was a good reason why your skillset had led you towards a career of getting beat up on a professional level, instead of towards a quieter, peaceful career of make-up artistry or hair-styling.

Complicating matters even more was the fact that Loki was quite particular about his appearance. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin this newfound interest in the Halloween party.

When you returned to the doorway of your bedroom, Loki was seated on the edge of your shared bed. His long legs were spread wide, with delicious expanses of thigh peeking out between the tousled sheets. His expression was dreamy and brooding as he ran a large hand through his midnight curls, like his thoughts were a hundred thousand miles away while he smoothed and detangled.

His face lit up when he finally noticed you, but then it dropped when he saw what you were holding. “Please tell me that’s a joke. You’re joking with that, yes?”

You grinned and shook your head like you were trying to fling your nervous energy into a nearby galaxy. “Not a chance. Scoot!” you laughed, waving your hand to get him to make room for you.

He complied, but still let out a frustrated groan as he shifted to the middle of the bed and leaned back against the headboard. “Darling, be reasonable. I’m already getting a rash just looking at that preposterous concoction…”

“Oh, come on! ” you whined, fluttering your eyelashes in a way you know he both loved and hated. “I know it’s not Armani, but you’ll survive a test run with it, right?”

Loki sighed, and then he softly patted the mattress next to him. “You’re lucky you’re so damn adorable…”

“I know. It’s a blessing and a curse for you, isn’t it?”

Having won the first battle, you settled next to him on the bed. Your legs curled up underneath you, and with an innocent smile, you blinked at him once more, a silent request that he drop the final remainder of his illusion. The lightning bolt on his face disappeared with an emerald glimmer, and a playful smirk replaced it.

“Yes, it is. And you’re going to be so very embarrassed if this folderol does actually kill me…”

You carefully pried open the palette and dragged a brush through the creamy, red substance on the palette. “Oh, please. Of all the things that could kill you, it’s not going to be drug-store brand holiday make-up…”

Starting at his forehead, you made gentle strokes against his skin, testing to see how well it absorbed the cream. As expected, it didn’t smear very well, the edges were smudged and uneven. But there was no need to panic just yet - it was still completely fixable. That is, as long as you avoided direct eye contact with him, or else you might become even more flustered than you already were.

Loki’s gaze shifted as you worked, watching either your hands or your face depending on whether you were gathering color or painting his skin. His features were soft, his eyes still dreamy as he watched you work, but you carefully kept your attention towards the task at hand; his attention was like a black hole of colossal proportions, and once you were caught in it, the only thing keeping you from splitting into a million different strands of yourself was Loki himself.

When he realized his alluring good-looks weren’t enough to distract you this time, he switched to a different tactic.

“Darling, do you really expect me to believe that Stark is allowing Miss Potts to paint his face for the party?”

You snorted, expecting nothing less from someone called the God of Mischief. “If Tony knows what’s good for him, he is.”

As you pulled the brush across the bridge of his nose, Loki let out a chuckle and titled his head. “Is that some sort of veiled threat, darling? What happens if I refuse to cooperate with you?”

That little movement was just enough to ruin what might have been a decent brush stroke, and it made you smear crimson down the length of his nose instead of diagonally across his cheek.

“Hey, stop moving!” you gasped and laughed at the same time. “Or you’re gonna wind up looking even more ridiculous!”

“Would it be rude to say that I find that difficult to believe, my love?”

Ignoring his comment, you licked the tips of your finger and swiped it along the edges of the lightning bolt, trying to smooth it out. When the makeup just smeared instead of erasing neatly, a new rush of panic settled in your chest. You licked your finger again and rubbed it harder over his skin, and then you tried using your other, untainted fingers - but all that resulted in was the tips of those digits, and now your tongue, turning the brightest red to have ever existed.

“Something the matter, darling?” Loki asked knowingly, repeating his earlier question. He pursed his lips together, just barely attempting to suppress a vindicated smile as he watched you struggle. “Is the inferior product you insisted upon ruining the homemade look you’d imagined for me?”

Forcing your expression into one of neutrality required a tremendous amount of effort. “Nope. Everything’s going perfectly, my love,” you lied, switching the makeup palette to your other hand. Within seconds, the fingertips of both hands were traitorously stained with the truth.

“Really? You’re absolutely sure about that, darling?” Loki asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he glanced at the make-up palette. “Please correct me if I’m mistaken, but there seems to be more tint on your fingers than what’s left in the container…”

Your face scrunched up in amused frustration, and the unpleasant taste of chemicals and oils now completely coated your tongue. “Mmhmm, this is a…totally normal part of the process.”

His comments were just making everything worse, but you were still determined to see this attempt through to the end. At that point, the makeup palette was discarded entirely and soon became lost within the bed sheets as you pushed yourself up to your knees and shifted closer to him. You took the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it up in a desperate attempt to finally fix the bolt’s outline and salvage your work.

You swiped the soft fabric down the length of his nose, but the make-up must have believed your t-shirt to be a brush, and all you did was push the red deeper into his skin. Silently cursing yourself, you pulled your t-shirt up further and tried to focus on gathering as much color as possible. Secretly though, you prayed that effectively flashing him like this would distract him from making more teasing comments at your expense.

But that didn’t quite work either, and Loki’s chuckle from behind your t-shirt was both leery and leering.

“And now you’ve resorted to seduction as a means of distraction from your lies…” he purred, the sound almost a growl as he brought his hands to your waist. “I’d say our relationship might be having a negative effect on your morality, darling, but you’d be much better at this if it was…”

You were still determined not to let him win, even as a shuddered breath tumbled from your lips. Your heart beat faster in your chest as the entire front of your t-shirt became tinted with red, and your face warmed from the feel of his hands gliding down to your hips.

“It’s fine! It’s fine, Loki. Trust me, I’ve done this a million - ”

“Sweetheart.”

Loki’s voice was kind but firm when he interrupted. He leaned back as he pulled your shirt down, revealing the devastation on his face that your attempts to fix had caused. “Please just admit that you’re not very good at this…”

You gasped and clamped a hand over your mouth. There was red everywhere - in his eyebrows and his eyelashes, across his right cheek and somehow, underneath his chin. The combination of mess on his both serious and amused expression was a horrifying, delightful sight, and you only barely managed to swallow the giggle bubbling in your throat.

Loki arched a suspicious eyebrow. He flicked his wrist and produced a small, handheld mirror with his seidr, and he stared at you expectantly - granting you one final opportunity to come clean, as it were.

“Come on, darling. I will love you no less if you just admit it.”

But you couldn’t; all you could manage was to laugh, cover your eyes and brace for the inevitable as he finally looked at his reflection.

“This is absolutely marvelous, darling,” he finally replied in a wry tone of voice.

You shook while trying to suppress another laugh, but it was all over now. He’d seen the abominable, unskilled attempt at facial decoration you’d left on his skin, and you knew he was never going to let you hear the end of it despite the fact that he was laughing too.

“And you were absolutely right, this is so much better than using magic. Perhaps I should go into battle like this. I could simply frighten our enemies to death…”

You let out a heavy laugh of defeat and let your hands fall to your thighs. You were sure there was probably red make-up smudged all over your own face as well now, but you didn’t care anymore. “Alright, so. Maybe I’m not that great at painting faces…”

“Oh, on the contrary, sweet girl…” Loki chuckled as he tossed the mirror away and pulled you closer, settling you over his lap. He leaned up and nuzzled his nose to yours. “This is impeccable work. Stunning, even…”

“No, stop it! You’re making a mess!” you laughed and tried to look away, but his face followed yours, no doubt just smearing even more make-up all over each other. “Loki! You’re ruining all of my hard work!”

His arms tightened around you. He began to kiss and nip at your jaw, your nose, your neck. “Or am I making it more authentic? Did you ever think about that, darling?”

Resigning yourself to retaliation at Loki’s level, you matched his every kiss and nip with another to his jaw, his nose, his neck. He let out an encouraging chuckle and cupped your jaw with his hands, angling your face properly to his. When your lips finally met, he let out a soft hum, and then his kiss shifted into one of reassurance.

Your arms slid around his neck as he leaned back against the headboard. His lips moved slowly and tenderly as he held you close to his chest, and they said everything that you needed to know. This was okay, he was okay. Aside from a few errant, washable streaks of crimson on his face, nothing real was actually amiss here.

He may have been teasing you before, but he was also loving you. The experiment had yielded far less than stellar results, but that was still okay. A suitable ensemble for the party would be found eventually - or perhaps just better make-up products - and the two of you were still going to have as much fun as someone could have at a corporate holiday party, even if there were a few extra pairs of wandering eyes there.

After another moment or two, the kiss broke naturally. You let out a slow breath and pressed your forehead to his. “Alright, I fully admit that I completely suck at face-painting. We don’t have to go down that route…”

Loki smiled and nodded. A glimmering wash of emerald erased any evidence of red from all skin and clothing. “Yes, I’m quite certain that we can come up with something else…”

By revealing his mortal partner to the world, you’d hoped it would soften the rough edges of Loki that his detractors wanted to keep illuminated underneath a hateful microscope. You’d wanted to protect him, to make his life simpler, to possibly ease his troubled integration on the planet he’d once tried to subjugate.

But the relaxed smile on his lips told you that he didn’t need you to do any of those things. Loki was from the stars, yes, but he only ever clung to one specific thing. He may have come from on high, his perspective and past experiences originating from a millennia away from yours, but he was still here, looking at you. Loving only you.

You were his, and he was yours. No amount of criticism, or any blades held to his throat, or cruel darts thrown at his loving eyes were ever going to avert his gaze. They could make him climb mountains on mountains to get to you, but as long as there were sunbirds to soar back down with, then it was all worth it, wasn’t it?

Your hands slid into his hair, gently tangling themselves within his dark curls. Your eyes roamed slowly over his angular features and icy blue eyes, admiring the planes of his cheekbones and the true depth of his gaze that simultaneously showcased both the wide expanse of outer space and your own reflection within his irises.

Loki was timeless. He was broken and hopeful, grateful and almost too intelligent to not know better. He was pensive, and he understood light and dark better than anyone else you’d ever met. The noir shadows of his heart were what had initially drawn you in, but the hidden brilliance of his glowing soul was what had made you stay.

A new idea coalesced inside your heart, and you settled your hips to his with a sly grin. “Are you by any chance familiar with my favorite David Bowie persona?”

Loki smiled again, but this time he shook his head. “Are you really only telling me now that the Space Oddity himself is not your favorite persona of his?” he murmured curiously.

You bit your lip and reached for your laptop on the nightstand, eager to introduce him to something brand new once more.

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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cottonlemonade · 4 months ago

Text

Accidental Confession

word count: 1228 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Nishinoya x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

request: watching Goosebumps, having caramel popcorn while dressed as a pirate (accidental confession) with Noya || fluffy, accidental confession with Noya

Noya leaned closer to the bowl and took a deep, happy sniff of the soup. It was pouring outside and originally he wanted to meet a few new friends to go fishing again but as adventurous as he was, he didn’t feel like catching a cold along with the fish. So, he resigned himself to sitting in the small restaurant he found a few days ago, enjoying a slow afternoon with you and his latest travel companion, Saruta. The little seaside town he had settled in for the time being was a narrow one like someone had pushed a bunch of houses as close to the shore as possible to save space. No building was higher than two stories, a stark contrast to the many impressive metropoles he had seen during his world tour so far. He usually never spent more than a week in one place. He wanted to see as much as possible after all before his sense of duty - as well as his parents - called him back to Japan. But here, in this tiny hamlet with nothing to do after 6 p.m., Noya stayed for almost a whole month now. And all because he met you the minute he stepped off the ferry. Much like his high school self he definitely still believed in love at first sight, however, the more he got to know you, the quicker he realized that none of what he had ever experienced with anyone in Miyagi came even close to how he felt about you.

You were daring and witty, strong and beautiful and if he could have proposed to you on that first night he would have. But if he learned anything in school that stuck it was that his previous approaches to flirting and dating weren’t exactly well-received and often described as “coming on too strong”. And since he didn’t want to mess up his chances under any circumstances, he resigned himself to pining and made a pact with himself instead. To pad his funds a bit he had joined some oyster shuckers and decided that once he found a pearl he’d confess. Unfortunately, he grossly overestimated how long it would take him to find one and chickened out immediately when a tiny pinkish thing rolled into his palm on the second day. Soon enough he carried around a small handful of them in an empty TicTac container. They weren’t worth much, all being roughly the size and shape of a corn of sushi rice but a local girl who was selling self-made jewelry turned them into a necklace in exchange for him manning her stall while she went to grab lunch.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, leaving the two young men behind. Noya already knew what was coming before his friend even started.

“Hope you realize, I feel myself age while I‘m waiting for you to make a move.“, Saruta said.

“I‘ll do it soon.“, Noya replied automatically as he looked at his almost empty bowl, considering ordering seconds.

The other raised a highly doubtful brow, “Now, where have I heard this before? Oh yeah. You, last week. Come on, it‘s not that deep. If she likes you back, great, if not, you just move on and will forget about her in no time.“

Noya glared at him, making Saruta raise his hands in defense, “Look, you have the necklace ready, it‘s her birthday tomorrow, probably some stars are aligning as well, just do it.“

“Right, I meant to ask you about something.” Noya reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavily crumpled piece of paper.

“What’s that?”

His friend smoothed out the note and skimmed the short text.

“Well, what does it look like?”

“Birthday wishes - but I’m not seeing any kind of confession here.”

Noya ignored him.

“Could you translate it for me?”

“Why? She knows Japanese.”

“I know, but I wanna do it in her native language and you’re the only one I can ask.”

“Have you heard of the internet?”, Saruta asked sarcastically, pushing the paper back across the table.

Noya waved him off. “I don’t trust online translations to make it sound natural. Plus, no program is gonna correct my pronunciation, hm?” He batted his eyes pleadingly and with pointed fingers gently slid the note to Saruta once again.

“Fine. But you’re paying for dessert.”

In all his time at school, Noya had never studied as hard as he did that night. Huddled together in the cramped hostel room they shared with 10 other guys, Noya and Saruta went through the note again and again until the latter threatened to smother Noya with a pillow if he repeated the words in his presence one more time.

The following morning the former libero made sure to dress in his best (aka cleanest) clothes and hurried to meet you outside at the pier as previously agreed.

His steps slowed when he spotted your chubby silhouette waiting. The morning air was icy even without much wind. Seagulls cawed sleepily as they patrolled the shore. The sun was just beginning to rise, coloring the horizon in tones of lavender and gold.

Noya reached into his jacket to double-check that the necklace and cheat sheet for his birthday wishes were in place.

“Y/n!”, he called and you turned around, giving him the most arresting smile.

“Yuu! Not gonna lie, I thought you overslept.”

“Not today.”, he laughed nervously and joined you at the railing that separated the street from the beach.

“I wasn’t sure why you wanted to meet so early but…”, you pointed towards the sun steadily climbing over the calm waves, “this is gorgeous.”

“Yeah…”, he said, most definitely not paying attention to the sunrise in the slightest.

When you caught him staring, he cleared his throat and pulled the little tule bag containing the necklace from his pocket. He held it out to you.

“For you.”, he added unnecessarily.

“Oh, thank you so much! You didn’t have to get me anything.”, you beamed at him and the cold October morning suddenly felt a whole lot warmer.

He took a deep breath and although stumbling over a few words here and there he recited his short speech.

“Happy birthday! I need you to know that from the moment I saw you, I knew I was in love. I can’t stop thinking about you and if you’ll have me, I’d love to be your boyfriend.”

Your jaw dropped, then you began to blush and finally you clutched his gift to your heart when he finished.

“I really like you, too!”, you replied in Japanese. Noya stiffened and his heart pounded in his ears.

“You what?”

“I really like you, too!”, you said again, a little quieter but still carrying the same enthusiasm, “And I’d love to be with you.”

The realization dawned in time with the sun. He didn’t know whether to kill Saruta or kiss him. It should have been obvious from that smile he gave him before bed.

With trembling fingers, he helped you put on the necklace, the different hues of the pearls shimmering in the golden gray morning light.

You hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and closed the gap between you for your first kiss.

In every photo he took on his travels from this day on you were by his side, necklace and all.

a/n: That necklace 100% made an appearance on your wedding photo, too.

request for @mikayla1117

Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to finally write for him! Also thank you so much for your kind words 🥹 I hope you enjoyed it!

for requests see here

#sunnys movie night #nishinoya x chubby reader #nishinoya fluff #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yuu #haikyuu nishinoya #noya x reader #noya x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader

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justporo · 1 year ago

Text

Shooting Stars

A night of star showers is imminent in Baldur's Gate. You couldn't think of a better way to spend it but with Astarion and a sparkling glass of champagne in your hand - and lots of teasing banter- until the first star comes shooting. Because of course: there are wishes to be made and hopefully to be fulfilled.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Time to cook of the 2024 season! I originally wanted to use this for the Winter Challenge as well but eh, I rather wanted to take my time (and I'm happy about it - I'm only getting back in the saddle with writing now, break was very much needed). So have this piece of fluff, that is hopefully something for the soul to kick of this year of writing! This wonderful artwork was done by the lovely @britonell (thank you so much!).

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff

Wordcount: 2,9k

Song: All This And Heaven Too - Florence + The Machine

~~~

“Shit, I think I ripped one of my stockings”, you cursed while you rearranged your seat at the edge of the roof. Astarion relaxedly sitting beside you clicked his tongue and looked judgingly at you - but you knew he was only teasing. The sparkle in his ruby eyes spoke of nothing but affection and admiration as he looked at you and then towards the glittering night sky.

Tonight a shower of shooting stars was supposed to happen. The whole city had been raving about it for days since astronomers had shared the news of the upcoming celestial event. Probably every one who could afford so would be out and about to catch a glimpse of some of nature's magic. And of course - as was custom - to make some wishes and hope for the falling stars to kindly fulfil them.

Some of the stars on the firmament were twinkling already, as if they were shimmying, getting ready to fall out of their sockets and travel across the night sky. To grace all beings below them with their fleeting beauty.

Never had you seen something like this and you had been brimming with excitement from the first moment you had heard about it. You wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

When you had asked Astarion if he wanted to watch the star showers with you he had lifted one eyebrow and given you a kind of condescending if playful smile. Then, when he had answered his voice had dripped with sarcasm: “Oh darling, why would we need to watch some beautiful fallen stars when I already have one right in front of me.”

You had almost barfed onto his feet. Astarion had looked offended.

Then you had lost it so hard laughing that your vampire had needed to hold you up by your elbows so as to not let you slide onto the ground while you suffered from your hysteric fit.

“Astarion, love, you already have me - you can scrap the cheesy lines - please?”, you had pressed out through laughter and buried your face in his chest while Astarion had pouted a bit more about your snide remarks regarding his flirting techniques.

Of course, he hadn’t stopped. In fact, he’d made it a game over the next couple of days to come up with even much worse lines while you always desperately tried to keep it together.

“But darling, all my wishes have come true already with you by my side.”

“Love, I believe the night's cancelled. All stars are already in your eyes.”

“Oh, my heart, I’ve already fallen hard for you, why would you need another star?”

They got progressively worse the longer he kept going - and incredibly less inventive.

But of course you were still swooning on the inside, at least a little. Because after all, how couldn't you? Knowing that Astarion was indeed in love with you and that he really meant his words. Well, once you scraped all the gooey honey off it. What lay beneath was very sweet and much less sickening.

This game of his had gone on for several days until the night had finally arrived - and until even Astarion had almost run out of stupid pick-up lines.

The both of you had decided to dress up, just for the hell of it. This being one of the things you had adopted quickly from Astarion: indulging yourself, taking care of yourself and dressing for yourself - and for him of course, because you could never get enough of the stunned looks he threw you.

You were in a dress that Astarion had gifted you some time back and that was embroidered by the man himself. And the vampire in a finely stitched doublet that made him look positively regal and smoking. There was a fair amount of staring happening from both sides, hopefully not distracting from the actual event later on.

Then with lots of giggles from your side and terrible cursing from Astarion you had climbed onto the roof of your little Baldurian townhouse. This man could never do anything without commenting on it. When you had pointed out as much, he had narrowed his eyes at you and looked tempted to drag you down the small ladder again that led up to the roof. But you had swiftly moved out of his reach with a cackle - not without also making sure to give him a good view of your behind first by deliberately swishing open the slit in your skirt.

Carefully, you had scattered towards the edge over the old shingles then, until you could carefully settle down.

Obviously not carefully enough though since you feared that the delicate sheer fabric covering your slender legs might have been torn on a sharp edge when you had sat down. But it didn’t really matter. Astarion had already promised he’d rip these stockings off you (together with the set of naughty underwear you’d chosen specifically for him) with his teeth later in the night. Really, you were just presenting an opening for your eager lover.

With another curse under his breath, the vampire sat down beside you although he did so elegantly and immediately evoked the image of a lounging cat. The grace of the rogue really was unmatched.

You leaned back on your hands and angled one leg, putting it up on the edge while the other dangled over thin air. Astarion almost mirrored you with the way he seemed to sit comfortably there, leaning back, legs slightly spread and hanging over the edge while he observed the glittering night sky.

“Love, that’s no way to sit for a lady”, Astarion teased you with a promising grin while he eyed your angled leg, clad in nothing but a gauzy stocking, adorned with a delicate lace rim at the very top of your thigh - which was almost completely on display for him.

You angled your head at him and swayed your leg a little so the slit allowed for an even better view of your leg - careful to only tease for later.

“Good thing I am not a lady then”, you replied to your vampire, tongue in cheek.

“Oh yes, my love, it’s for the best. The way I’d single handedly ruin your reputation later tonight would be scandalous,” Astarion replied while he devoured you with his eyes from under his brows. In his head you could bet he was already letting his teeth graze over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. Oh, it would be a night to behold.

You laughed softly, throwing your head back. But then you let your leg softly fall onto the other, giving at least the illusion of decency again.

You grinned at the vampire, the vampire grinned back with promise.

Nothing would ever come close to this, to being with him: the playful banter, the easy companionship, the intense intimacy. You hummed contentedly while you slowly ripped your loving gaze of Astarion and let it wander over your surroundings.

Below you the streets of the Upper City seemed to fill up with the whole population of Baldur’s Gate. Of course everyone wanted the best sight of the night sky - and Upper just had the best spots. And what a good thing that you still had the vantage point even with all those people trying to find a neat stargazing spot.

Idle chatter drifted up towards you. People had brought food and drinks and a continuous hum of anticipation filled the cold night air, but you barely even noticed. For you there was merely your soulmate and you up on the roof of your home.

Behind you you had two crystal glasses waiting to be filled with some bubbling champagne Astarion had insisted upon. “If you’re going to make me sit up on some godsforsaken rooftop during wintertime only to crane your neck at the night sky you can look up at every night, I might as well bring a drink”, he’d said and rolled his eyes while he had grabbed not one, but two of the expensive bottles. You had simply shrugged - you wouldn’t say no if drinks were involved. And since you had figured out that it had been nearly half a year already since most everything had been dealt with, you felt it was only appropriate to celebrate this fact with a drink.

The vampire had whole-heartedly agreed when you had told him your observation. Astarion, of course, had been very well aware of that even before. He hadn’t stopped counting the days since his life had taken a turn for the better and, perhaps, he never would.

Up on the roof the rogue now procured his dagger, threw it up to flip it artfully and only then - when he was sure that he had your full attention - he took the first bottle with a sly grin. And then, in his histrionic manner, he swished the sharp blade up along the curve of the bottle neck and cleanly took off the head along with the cork.

Champagne immediately started foaming out of the bottle and Astarion was quick to grab the crystal glasses, both in one hand, and elegantly pour you each a glass of sparkling wine.

Somewhere below you heard someone yelp - apparently Astarion had unconsciously managed to hit someone with his display of skill. You looked down and saw an older gentleman rub the back of his head and turn towards you.

Quickly grabbing Astarion’s arm to make him pull back with you, you dragged up your legs with a giggle, hoping you could hide from the unwilling target. The vampire grinned broadly at you while he kept pouring - that little rascal.

You had to be honest though that you’d been quite impressed with the display of this dextrous if wholly unnecessary talent. It was after all very fitting for the flamboyant elf. But your adoration must have shown because the vampire was grinning proudly at you as he handed you a glass.

Time to get his ego in check again before it became too massive.

“Where’d you learn that?”, you asked after you had clinked glasses with him. “Rich prick academy?”

Astarion almost snorted into the glass he’d been taking a sip from. He recovered quickly though. “Not my fault they taught you neither that nor manners, you insolent little thing.” He clicked his tongue and took another sip of bubbly.

You waited until he had lifted up the drink filled flute to slap his arm.

His drink sloshed, some spilling onto him.

The look of that combined with too much force you had used to get back at him almost made you lose your balance. You screeched, gripping your glass as if it could stop you from falling.

But thankfully Astarion quickly grabbed your wrist with roguish reflexes, pulling you back and thus prohibiting you from falling off.

Your heart was racing from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The vampire was only laughing as you recovered from your self-inflicted fright. And you hadn’t even drunk a single drop of alcohol yet. So you made to catch up and lifted the crystal to your lips.

“Darling, don’t break your back falling off this rooftop, yes?” Astarion said, choosing this exact moment to break the silence again. “I have way better options to achieve that if you should insist upon it, my heart.”

You choked on the prickling drink and started coughing. Immediately, you were almost ready to push that bastard again, risking falling off once more. Astarion in the meantime smirked smugly at you while drinking his champagne in peace now.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you croaked pathetically after barely being able to talk again. Somehow you seemed to draw the short end of the stick fairly often when it came to trying to out-sass the pale elf. But he had more than 200 years on you with that - give or take. You’d get back at him one of those days.

The bickering went on for some more back and forth until you had each downed your first glass, then a second while you were both laughing profusely and you started to feel the alcohol make your mind a little hazy.

Astarion refilled the glasses once more and you just kept talking - about everything and nothing. It was always so easy to just spend time with each other. It almost felt like you had been together a whole eternity already, in the best way imaginable.

“So, what are you wishing for?”, you asked Astarion emboldened by the alcohol while you were working on emptying your next glass of champagne.

The vampire inclined his head towards you and softly shook his head in disappointment: “Love, have they truly taught you nothing? You’re not supposed to tell or it won’t come true!” He softly clicked his tongue while you stuck out yours towards him. You kept looking at him in anticipation - but he was firm on not losing a word on the matter.

After a while you gave up with a dramatic sigh and gulped down the rest of liquid in your glass. Neither pouting at him, bribing him or even offering another glance of your precariously clothed legs seemed to work.

You though knew exactly what things you’d be wishing for: for him and you to be happy - that was the most important thing, to find a way to allow Astarion to walk in the sun again, a long and happy life for all your friends you hadn’t seen in a while now, to have things stay like this forever or at least to be able to always come back to moments like these.

You really deeply hoped this would stay with you: the unconditional love, the deep trust, the easiness with which the two of you spent your days and nights now with each other.

Some time ago you had feared that once the permanent tension of your adventuring days was over there wouldn’t be much left for you. That Astarion would just realise that you were barely more than a former street kid and thief - and pretty much boring beyond that.

But it hadn’t been like that. Quite the opposite: every day seemed to make the vampire fall harder for you. And you knew that was surely true from your side. It was like every time you looked at him another small piece of your heart was permanently handed to the vampire who you trusted fully to handle it gently. And perhaps the same was true for Astarion’s undead and unbeating heart in his chest.

You kept gazing at him and enjoyed just listening to him talk beside you while you sipped on your drink. The wind was drifting through both your hair, pulling some light strands of your hair with it while it merely tugged softly on the rogue’s curls. His side profile was sharply illuminated by silver moon light, pronouncing his straight nose, sharp cheekbones. And not to forget his ruby red eyes that always caught when you were staring at him and then sparkled in delight.

You could just spend eternity with moments like these.

Astarion was currently telling you about a book of poetry he was reading at the moment, looking up at the moon and the stars with a slight smile on his lips when a murmur started to move through the crowd below you.

Both of your ears perked up a little as the people became louder. And then when someone even screeched and you saw someone pointing up at the night sky as you leaned forward you realised what it must mean: shooting stars.

Your head snapped up and you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye, just the disappearing tail of a star racing across the darkness. With a gasp you grabbed Astarion’s shoulder without looking to get his attention. The vampire immediately complained but was silenced when another falling star shot across the sky - this time clearly visible for both of you.

The people below were buzzing in excitement now, loud “oohs” and “aaahs” were heard in the chill winter night as the stars become more and more frequent until bright white curves of sparkles were drawn across the sky every few seconds.

Your eyes widened as you beheld the wondrous event in front of you, completely entranced by what was happening. Truly a magic that was unmatched in beauty, a spell woven over everyone that was lucky enough to catch sight of it even for only a moment.

The vampire observed the falling stars with you for a long while before he slowly turned to you.

Astarion looked at you, still fully smitten by stars falling from the sky, eyes wide and shining, lips parted slightly.. He drank it all in: the wonder in your eyes, your beautiful face, the love. You see the latter reflected on his face when your gaze flicked to the vampire and back up to the sky to not miss a single star.

But Astarion’s gaze kept lingering upon you. Not wanting to ever forget even the most miniscule of details of this moment while sparks of light kept dancing over your face and your ever broadening smile.

He hadn’t lied, calling you his star.

Because his biggest wish, although always unspoken, had already been fulfilled.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year ago

Text

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 2

Part 1

Eddie hadn't forgotten about Steve the next day. Far from it. But his early morning thoughts had been occupied with getting up in time and going through his morning routine. It wasn't until he got dressed and put his jacket on, the same one from yesterday, that he was hit with the remnants of Steve's scent. He lifted it to his nose and took a deep breath.

His number was still in the pocket. Would texting him now seem desperate? Eddie took another breath. Fuck appearances. He had to see him again.

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

Steve had been prepared to chalk up last night to a fever dream. Or even if it was somehow real, that Eddie wouldn't call or text. Or even if he did, it wouldn't be until weeks or months later when he remembered the pathetic omega he'd met one rainy night.

And then he checked his phone on his lunch break and saw that he had a few messages. All from an unknown number.

'hey' 'it's me' 'Eddie' 'that guy you met last night?' 'I was thinking that i could maybe take you out to dinner again?'

Steve beamed so hard anyone looking might think he was insane. How cool should he play it? Maybe he should wait until he got off of work. Would it be better to call? By the looks of the texts, Eddie seemed really into him. Would Steve be able to string him along for longer?

The moment the thought passed through it was gone. He had woken up this morning, yearning for Eddie's scent. If he got close to him again, there was no way that he could make him wait.

Steve told him that he was free any time.

It probably came off as desperate but he didn't care. He wanted Eddie and wanted to be wanted by him. He couldn't afford to play it cool.

Three days later, Steve was standing outside of a nice restaurant. Eddie had sent the location and Steve dressed in the best clothes he owned. Thankfully he didn't have much of a reason to wear them, so they looked fresh and he went the extra mile to iron them. It was a nice collared shirt in blue and some khaki pants. A car drove up and Eddie came out of it, tossing the keys to a valet.

Eddie had offered to pick him up from his apartment but Steve refused for some reason. It felt like a dignity thing.

"Hey there, handsome", Eddie grinned. He had a red button down over black slacks and that leather jacket again. Steve needed to bury his face in it, in Eddie.

Steve got part of his wish when Eddie slung an around his waist and led him inside. He refrained from turning his head to dip his nose into it and drown himself in Eddie. They sat down and a waiter was with them right away for their drink orders. The waiter asked about wine as Steve looked at the menu.

"Hmm, whatever's red and sweet, my good man", Eddie said.

"We have a nice Cabernet, if you would like."

Eddie looked like he was about to agree when Steve spoke up. "Eddie, what are you eating?"

The alpha glanced at the menu before pushing air out of his mouth. "Probably a steak, beautiful. I'm actually not all that picky."

"We'll take a Caremenare", Steve said. "One from Bordeaux if you have one, if not anything on from southern France is fine."

Eddie gave Steve an appraising look as the waiter walked off to get their drinks. He let out a low whistle and then Steve stiffened.

"You know your stuff."

"I uh, yeah", Steve cleared his throat. "This seems like a real classy joint. Normally a server will ask what you plan on dining on before giving a wine suggestion."

"Ah, so he thought I was some bum who would've been happy drinking some cooking sherry?"

"Basically." Steve hadn't meant to show off like that. It just came out.

Eddie didn't look put off though. If anything, he looked impressed.

"You know, I'm not hard to please. I'm the type to drink whatever they put in front of me. Unless it's vodka." Eddie stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"I figured a rock star would have more refined tastes", Steve said.

"Oh I think I've got great tastes", Eddie said, licking a canine.

Steve had been looking at the menu, about to ask what he meant he saw the look Eddie was giving him. He quickly snapped the menu back up to cover his face and how warm it felt. Steve was no stranger to blatant flirting. He'd frequently laid it on thick himself. But knowing who Eddie was and how they'd met put an extra layer on it.

Did Eddie like him for himself? Or because he seemed easy? They started talking, the conversation now about traveling. Eddie was telling him of a particularly wild night in Italy and Steve was halfway in thought.

Would he feel different if Eddie was just a normal alpha? Or was it the fact that Eddie knew he was half the way to destitute that made Steve hesitant? Above all, Steve just didn't know if Eddie respected him or if he felt sorry for him. Eddie hadn't ever said anything condescending about him or omegas in general though. He'd never made Steve feel lower than him. He made sure he was comfortable with rides and being paid for before doing so.

Steve remembered what his best friend told him before abandoning him (getting her dream job) across the country. Basically, waste not, want not, but applying it to everything. If Eddie wanted to take him out and buy him meals and drinks, who was Steve to deny him? And if he wanted something sweet after, well Steve wouldn't be upset.

"Wait, you tried sneaking into the catacombs? You know it's a tourist site? You can just get a guide and go in", Steve said.

"Yeah, well Jeff had this bright idea of going in without permission, cause you know, rebellion is totally more metal than just hiring a tour guide, and going at like 2 am because that's the 'best time'", Eddie did air quotes and rolled his eyes. "And also tried to get into more restricted areas."

"Lemme guess, Jeff's a free spirited explorer?"

"I like adventure as much as the next guy, but I also like seeing the sky", Eddie said. "And Gareth's worse. Dude froze solid the moment we got down there. Hell of a time to learn he's got claustrophobia."

Their orders were taken and Eddie watched probably with a bit too much interest as Steve ate. He was enjoying this ritzy fare as much as he did the bar and local restaurant from before. Maybe Steve was the type to fit in anywhere. Eddie wanted to give him more. He'd seen some of the couples around them. People with clearly money to spare and they lavished it on the beauty dining with them. Gilded omegas. Kept omegas.

"I just wanted to, I don't know, take care of him", Eddie had lamented to his band mates while on a Zoom call.

"What, like a puppy?", Grant asked while in the middle of doing laundry.

"No! Yes? Like, ugggh", Eddie ran his hands down his face. "I know how this is gonna sound. Don't judge me."

"Holy shit", Gareth paused in his gaming to look at Eddie's face on one of his screens. "Dudes, I think it's finally happening."

"No fucking way", Jeff said.

Eddie turned around in his chair, trying to turn his back to them but he went to hard and did a 360 instead.

"Eddie, do you wanna be his-"

"Please don't say it out loud", Eddie covered his face with his hands.

"He does", Jeff said. "He wants to be a sugar daddy."

"This guy's gotta be hot. You got pics?", Grant asked.

"No one's that hot", Gareth said. "Chrissy was that hot and you still didn't-"

"Alright, forget I said anything. This is supposed to be a brainstorming sesh", Eddie quickly changed the subject.

Eddie wanted Steve to be his. But he didn't just want to date him. He wanted to spoil him, take him on exotic vacations, show him off, have Steve lie in bed without a care outside of being Eddie's baby.

But he couldn't just ask that, could he? That was probably one aspect of celebrity life Eddie, nor any of the other guys really knew too well. Getting a date? Easy. Getting someone like this? Would Steve even want to do that? He probably had his own goals and aspirations that went beyond being some guy's plaything. God though, Eddie would treat him so right. Steve really wouldn't want for anything.

"So, I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but how does a uh, fine vintage such as yourself find him single?"

"'Fine vintage'? Are you calling me old?", Steve asked with mock offense.

"Well you wear it very nicely", Eddie quipped back.

"For the record, I'm not chronically single. I've just been pretty busy lately. Had a few quick lays, but nothing serious for a while."

"How about somethingggg not serious buuut pretty exclusive?", Eddie asked. He leaned a little closer to Steve and was able to smell the increased interest. Good.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you, me, on a French beach in about a month. You could really show off that wino talent."

Steve snickered and moved a little closer to Eddie. "Well you can start with not calling me a 'wino'. And if you really want me to show off, you'll have to take my to Italy."

Eddie put an arm around Steve. "That can be arranged." He started to kiss his neck and let out a soft growl at the way Steve melted under his lips. His hand found Steve's thigh and gave it a squeeze.

Steve hummed and turned his head to kiss Eddie's cheek, then grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. He gave Eddie's lips a rather chaste kiss but then whispered against them.

"Take me to your place."

dont @ me on the wine stuff i literally drank a $7 bottle of vermouth yesterday and enjoyed it clearly i am not an expert.

Part 3

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @marklee-blackmore @dragonmama76 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #a/b/o #omegaverse

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daysofyellowroses · 11 months ago

Text

noodles

carmen berzatto x reader | 1.9k | based on this absolutely adorable request from my darling @thecapricunt1616 enjoy it then i am beyond happy 💗🌼🫶🏻

It didn't matter how many times you shook the plastic stick, the little pink plus sign didn't fade. You tossed it in the trash can, where it joined three others with matching pink pluses. You couldn't really get your head around it, you'd been careful, taken things relatively slow..well, kind of.

Things had just progressed a little quicker than you'd expected. One minute you're applying for a hostess job, thinking you probably won't even get an interview, seeing as it was a Michelin-starred hotspot, then next thing you're front and center at a fancy restaurant and spending large portions of your shift flirting with the head chef.

It was never serious flirting, it was just silly and fun. You made flirty comments to everyone, you just particularly meant them with Carmy. He finally seemed to get the hint when you asked him upstairs after he'd dropped you home for the 10th time.

Nothing really happened that night, you just shared a drink, cheap wine from your refrigerator, and made each other laugh with stupid jokes. You told him you meant it when you flirted, he insisted you were joking. It was only when you kissed him that he finally got the message, kissing you back with a fervor that had your head spinning in the most wonderful way.

From there you two developed a relationship that suited you both. You were professional at work, still had some nights apart when you were both exhausted or just needed some alone time. But you had spent hours sitting on his kitchen counter watching him cook, told him stories from your past, encouraged him to tell you some stories too. You watched movies that you didn't pay full attention to, you read your book with your legs over Carm's lap, rolling your eyes with a grin when he would tease you for looking so serious.

It was the best relationship you'd ever been in, and while you weren't sure what the future held, you were positive Carm would be a big part of it, that you two would keep going, develop your relationship.

Sure, you had thought about kids, marriage, a home together etc., but in a kind of just-for-fun-daydreamy kind of way.

Now, one of those things was becoming a reality. It wasn't exactly how you would have planned it, you and Carm weren't even living together. Sure, you stayed at his most nights of the week and had more than a few personal belongings left there, but it wasn't the same.

It felt like moving in should have been the next step. The excitement of starting to really build a foundation together. You were just skipping ahead a step or two, apparently.

Eventually you left the bathroom and chose to sit on your bed for a while instead. You called your doctor and made an appointment, more as a formality. Maybe it would feel more real when your doctor told you rather than seeing it on a plastic stick you'd peed on.

Once you were dressed you went to make a coffee before stopping yourself, wondering if it was ‘allowed’, even though it was so early on. You decided to play it safe, having a herbal tea instead, which you nearly choked on when your phone rang, Carmy's ID flashing up on the screen.

Did he know? How could he know?

“Hey,” You smiled as much as you could, trying to feel normal. “How are you? How is everything?”

You hoped you didn't sound too unusual or not yourself, feeling annoyingly aware of yourself.

“Hey, everything's good,” Carm replied and you felt yourself relax a little. “Just..there's been a slight change of plan for today.”

You stifled a laugh, nothing Carm could say could be a bigger change of plan than an unexpected pregnancy.

“Oh? You raised a brow, lightly tapping your nails against your cup. “What's up?”

“So, it turns out that apparently I promised Richie and Sug that I'd babysit while they have some meetings. I hate to ask when it's your day off but..could you help me?”

You couldn't help but laugh, resting your head on your head on your hand and letting out a soft sigh.

“Of course I'll help, don't worry. When do you need me?”

An couple of hours later, you found yourself at Carmy's apartment, smiling as he opened the door looking flustered, a toddler on his hip and a doll in his hand.

“Perfect timing,” He smiled, stepping aside to let you in. “I'm outnumbered.”

“Who said I'm on your side?” You raised a brow, smiling at the little boy on Carmy's hip and gently stroked his cheek as he giggled. “I'm here to help the kids gang up on you.”

“Oh good,” Carm nodded, lightly tapping you with the doll. “Bring it on.”

You made your way to the living room, smiling as you spotted Eva on the couch, giving her a little wave.

“Hey girly girl,” You grinned, going to sit next to her. “Hope you've been keeping your uncle busy?”

“Yeah,” She giggled, leaning over to you as Carm came into the room. You leaned down, smiling as she whispered in your ear.

A half hour or so later, you went to open the living room door as there was a knock, adjusting the toddler on your hip before opening it and trying to keep a straight face as you met Carm's eyes.

“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, raising a brow.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Carmy nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “I have an appointment, I'm a little early but..maybe you could squeeze me in?”

“Maybe,” You nodded, biting your lip softly. “Come in, follow me.”

You turned and walked further into the room, gesturing to the couch. “Take a seat.”

“Yes ma'am,” Carm nodded as you walked to the kitchen door and opened it.

“Your two o'clock is early,” You said, glancing back to Carm for a moment.. “Do you want to fit him in now?”

You nodded before turning back to Carm and gesturing to the kitchen. “She'll see you now, come through.”

You walked into the kitchen and smiled as you watched Carm walk in, the smile on his face as he spotted the makeshift beauty salon that had been set up.

“Take a seat,” Eva gestured to the seat across the counter, an adorably serious look on her face. You placed the baby into his high chair by the table, smiling as you heard Eva boss her uncle around.

“Hands in the bowl, keep them still.”

You went to the fridge, taking out a little light blue lunch box before glancing over to Carm with a smile.

“What color do you want?” Eva asked, pointing to the handful of nail polishes sitting on the counter.

“Hm, I'm not sure,” Carm mused, looking at the colors. “I got a big date tonight, I wanna look my best. What do you think will suit me?”

You smiled to yourself as you put the lunch box in the microwave, laughing softly as you heard Eva tell Carm to hold still.

After lunch and Carmy's nail appointment, you decided to take the kids to the park, feeling a new wave of love for your boyfriend that he made no attempt to remove the red nail polish. When you were taking the stroller to the lift, one of Carm's neighbors passed you in the hall and smiled at you and realized that it wouldn't be long before the baby in the stroller would be yours.

You brushed off the thought, trying to focus on just having a nice, fun day. As you were en route to the park, Carm asked if you could have a little detour, and you were sure the look on the kids faces when you arrived at build-a-bear would never leave you.

Carm took his nephew from the stroller and placed him on his hip before taking him to pick out a teddy, your heart swelling in your chest, moreso when Eva took your hand and asked you to help her choose.

You found yourself subconsciously placing your hand on your stomach, wondering what it would feel like to hold your own baby on your hip, feel their hand in yours, see the excitement in their eyes when they were presented with a cute little toy.

Carm's nephew had picked a bear (perhaps with a little nudge from his uncle), that ended up in a chefs uniform (that one was a total push), while Eva chose a bunny that she chose a performance outfit for.

When you got back to Carm's, you were more than happy to chill on the couch, though you practically melted into it when Carm got a book and read to the kids (and their new toys) til they were asleep.

“Not a bad effort,” You smiled, looking over to Carm and trying not to imagine the toddler that could be in his lap one day. “You might actually be pretty good at this whole uncle thing.”

“I might just be,” Carm grinned, reaching out to touch your hand. “Had help from the best though.”

“You're welcome,” You smiled, gently stroking his hand. “I presume that's why you're taking me on a..big date, was it?”

“Oh absolutely,” Carm nodded, looking serious for a moment before he grinned. “the biggest.”

“Hm, guess I'll have to get glammed up,” You smiled, looking over to Eva. “Maybe I'll see if I can get a last minute appointment.”

That evening, after a quick trip home to grab a change of clothes, you were back in Carmy's apartment. It felt so quiet without the kids, you found yourself putting on music just for background noise.

When you were in the bathroom putting on your makeup, you felt a wave of nausea hit you, more out of nerves than anything else. You hoped it would leave, but before you knew it you were bent over the toilet, taking a deep breath as you waited for the inevitable.

There was a knock on the bathroom door when you were washing your hands, looking up at the mirror taking a deep breath. Even with makeup you still looked unwell.

“Hey,” Carm smiled as you opened the door, the concern evident on his face. “Are you okay? I thought I heard..”

“I'm fine,” You nodded, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh as the concern didn't leave his face. “I just..need to talk to you.”

You walked into the bedroom, sitting on the bed and trying to think of the right words.

“Okay,” You began. “this is..really not what I thought would happen, and I don't know how you're going to take this but..oh god..”

As you buried your head in your hands, Carm was immediately by your side, his arm around your waist.

“Whatever it is you can tell me,” He assured you. “I promise. Just let it out, we'll handle it.”

“I'm pregnant.” You said before you could stop yourself or build it up more, lowering your hands and looking over to Carm.

“You're..wow,” Carmy nodded, rubbing his jaw. “Well, thank fuck for that. I mean, I knew, but I thought you were dumping me.”

“Wait what?” You raised a brow. “You knew? How did you know?”

“I just knew,” Carm shrugged with a smile. “I mean, I guess I hoped I was right..I know it's skipping ahead a little but..I want what we had today, all the time.”

“Can you stop being so perfect for like one day?” You rolled your eyes with a grin, resting your head on Carmy's shoulder. “Or maybe just after the big date.”

#the bear #the bear 🐻#the bear fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #why do so many of my stories involve kids and or pregnancy #it's not intentional #just a vibe #🫶🏻🌼💗

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

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actor!au with bakugou where you’re on the press tour for your up and coming princess movie or something.

of course he’s the romantic interest to your character, the lead, so you’re paired together for the entire junket — seated with one another for interviews across the globe. the whole experience is filled with laughter, smiles, and sharing little facts about one another behind the scenes.

you’re always the first person bakugou searches for on the red carpet at each premier — he reaches for your hand during photos and sneakily slips one around your waist to subconsciously pull you closer towards him.

the fans all think that you’re in love from the way katsuki hangs into your every word when the two of you are stopped for questions. the way he whole heartedly laughs, with his whole body, at a joke you’ve told that’s probably not even that funny.

it’s probably not true. you’re just coworkers who spent months getting to know one another. coworkers who’ve kissed more times than you can count with one hand and who’ve shared secret snacks on set because the days were long and hot but totally worth it for the smiles little girls and boys give you when their princess and her prince bend down to give them a squeeze.

you know that you’ll miss bakugou when this is all over and the movie is out and you’re not showing up to red carpets trying to guess if the PR team will have coordinated your outfits to match those of the final scene in the movie when your characters get married. you’ll hope to work with him again, secretly, praying that you get to be close to him once more.

the final straw that breaks the camels back and gets you to realise that maybe you like bakugou a little more than just co-stars is when you’re both invited for a special interview with big fans of your princess film. children not older than eight or nine wriggle in front of you both with curious questions and katsuki is equally as charmed as you by the costumes they wear that link up with your characters.

for the most part they ask you silly questions like the hardest thing about being a prince or princess, what time you have to wake up for filming and your favourite foods (to which you tell them “he likes spicy tofu, the kind that makes you breathe fire!” and bakugou replies with “are you tellin’ ‘em i’ve got bad breath?” and that makes the kids laugh). but then, the little boy sitting opposite bakugou grows shy and timid towards the end of your time together and the blonde stops the interview from ending so that he can get his question out.

“how did you know that you were in love with her?”

your heart flutters, and you don’t have the heart to tell the poor boy that your acting is make believe and for the silver screen — but bakugou beats you to it, ruffling the kid’s hair fondly.

“i knew ‘cause i was always lookin’ for her whenever we entered a room. she was the first person i saw, the last person i’d want to see,” he rasps, the wisps of a smile on his lips despite the cameras rolling and capturing what feels like a love confession towards his costar. towards you. “i knew ‘cause she was always so kind to me even when i didn’t deserve it, to people who doubted her, to people who loved her. s’been a while since i realised, guess i never said anythin’ but if you like a princess, kid — make sure you tell her before a handsome prince snatches her up first.”

the boy grins eagerly at the blonde’s answer and filming wraps up from there. “they’ll have to cut that bit out,” you say softly, making your way back to the dressing rooms with katsuki. “to avoid scandal, probably.”

but he cocks his head, rolling his eyes at you as if you hadn’t understood a word he’d said. “it’d only be a scandal if it weren’t true. i meant what i said. i like you, dummy.”

you lean against the dressing room door, mouth agape. “w-why didn’t you say anything before?”

“because i was just worried that my princess had already been swept off her feet by her handsome prince.”

“by you, i’d been swept of my feet by you. stupid.”

you take a step back and bakugou follows you forward, caging you in. “guess that makes me your prince charming.” he quips, leaning down to your height.

tilting your head upwards, you smile gently and let your hands rest on katsuki’s broad shoulders. “you’ve been playing that part for the last few months, have you not.”

“yeah, ‘guess i have,” he mirrors your expression, lips brushing over yours in a real true loves kiss.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #this is definitely inspired by halle and the little mermaid press tour #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 5 days ago

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BTS: Where the Wild Things Are

Plot: An audition leads to unforgettable moments on a hit show.

Word Count: 6.3K

Pairing: Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: fake fight scene, protective Paul and Pedro, fluff, potential spoilers to Where the Wild Things Are [read here]

—————

The cityscape was something you welcomed, honking traffic, people shouting in the streets, and the chaos and beauty that came from living in New York. Your partner on the other hand was still adjusting, having moved in about 4 months ago. In that time so much has occurred, hosting SNL, attending premieres for films you both starred in as well as attending award shows that you had the honor of presenting an award at one. The most recent event that passed was the Met Gala and your birthday was now on the latest agenda. You hear the front door unlock over the light music and traffic from outside before clicking shut.

“I got bagels for the birthday girl,” Paul calls out coming from the entryway to find you curled up on the couch watching Hannibal the last show on your binge list. He comes from behind the sofa and you pause to lean back and look at him upside down as he gives a charming smile.

“How was your run babe?” You ask accepting the sweet kiss he gives before coming around easily sinking into the couch. His headphones around his neck, he’s dressed in a cap, a sleeveless t-shirt, and those shorts he loves.

“I found this runner’s route about 3 miles and got to see some of the sights around here before I got hungry for food,” He says while pulling out the two sandwiches, “Made sure it was an everything bagel before I left.” He passes yours over you smile quickly feasting on the treat.

“Wow my order is finally right, it’s a birthday miracle.” You tease and he rolls his eyes eating his sandwich.

“Ran into these two nice girls as I was leaving and got a picture they also said happy birthday. I was surprised they even recognized me.” He comments and you poke with your free hand his bare sweaty thigh.

“It’s those damn shorts, they’re a magnet to any Paul Mescal fan in a 20-mile radius.” Since he moved into your cozy apartment in Greenwich Village those shorts have become a staple in his New York City lifestyle. You’ve never seen more paparazzi photos of him in shorts since he moved here.

He smirks leaning close to you, “Are these shorts a magnet to you?” He flirts as he raises a brow only making you snort. The moment is cut off by your phone ringing seeing it is a call from your agent. Paul groans at the name, “Don’t they know it’s your birthday that means no work.”

“Oh hush, they’re probably calling to say happy birthday,” You say getting up to enter the home office. You knew most likely it was that but also something you’ve been sorta keeping from Paul and also Pedro and Bella. So during that interview, the year prior involving a certain video game that had a book it was mentioned of a potential fan-casting involving you. You joked about being involved just to appease the fans of the hit show. It was only after the Emmys with your win that news came out of the hit video game book Where the Wild Things Are was being adapted into a spin-off series from The Last of Us. Immediately the world blew up, with fan-casting and speculations of when what, and who. You were excited to see a novel you enjoyed being adapted but it was only when you got an email sent from your agent and told to record a self-tape that you recognized the scene and what was being asked of you. That was a month ago when you sent in the tape and it was only this week you heard back that you got the job. Luckily Paul was busy with his projects and promotions so it was easy to be at virtual meetings or having to fly out to LA for negotiations with The Last of Us team and your team under the guise of negotiation for the latest Star Wars film you were meant to start in.

“Hey Cathy,” You answer while closing the office door behind you.

“Happy birthday Y/n I hope you’re enjoying your day,” She greets you.

“It’s been good relaxing, definitely mentally preparing myself for whatever Paul and Pedro have planned for tonight.” That makes her laugh. It was good with everyone in the city for the Met Gala they planned to remain for your birthday. It was all planned out with spending the day with your childhood friends the day before as a pre-celebration. You weren’t sure what they had planned but with Pedro involved it could only be as crazy as your twenty-first.

“Well be safe tonight, but I just got off the phone with Jeanine. She says Craig and Neil are all good on their end with the paperwork. We’ll send you an email in regards to obtaining your script and any upcoming schedule. News of your casting will be drafted up soon to be published,” She says and you smile, “But tonight enjoy your night with your friends and family.”

“Thank you so much, Cathy. Guess now is a better time than ever to tell them I auditioned and got it.” You hear her gasp on the other line.

“You haven’t told them you auditioned?!” You shrink pacing the office looking over the collage you have on the wall at your desk. Photos of your friends and family, but also photos on sets, from your earliest projects to even now. Your favorite is of you and Paul in Malta exploring the city together. You had tried getting a nice photo of the two of you until a kind couple offered to take it for you. You guys weren’t even looking at the camera as it's taken mid-laughter, your head thrown back mid-laugh while Paul has a cheesy grin having just told a joke to get you to smile.

“I was gonna tell them when I knew I got a callback, then it just felt right to surprise them. So now here we are, I’m gonna see them all tonight so best time to tell them.” You say with a laugh and you hear her sigh on the other end.

“Well enjoy your night and congrats again!”

When your friends and family let your boyfriend and second father-figure to plan your birthday you had to know they had something crazy planned. When you first got with Paul your birthday was only shortly after you made it official so you didn’t do anything insane with him. You guys had a nice dinner with live music together and he got you a gift card to one of your favorite stores. But with you know a year together and knowing each other you’re not sure what he has in mind.

It was immediately swept away by your glam team who completely pampered you with your favorite rituals, cocktails, and Frank Ocean. Elvira keeps your hair in its natural style leaving it down, René creates this sultry look with accents of pink glitter across your lids.

“Guys what hell,” You gasp when Juliano reveals a gorgeous pink set from Brielle that you’ve been dying to wear, from the lace leggings, the asymmetrical mini skirt, the off-the-shoulder gloved top with squared jewels as the button of the opening at your wrists and on the skirt, to the scarf with a large gem buckle. Even down to a new pair of shoes that match perfectly.

“Don’t look at us, this is all your lovely boyfriend’s doing we just made sure it was in your measurements,” Juliano says and your eyes start watering up about to cry.

“No! None of that I just did a sickening eyeliner just for you to ruin it!” René scolds you fanning your tears away and you force yourself to suck them back.

“I’m sorry okay,” You take a deep breath before giving a big smile, “I’m all good I swear no tears I promise.”

The three of them pull you into a hug, “Alright go get dressed, enjoy tonight!” Juliano says pressing kisses to your cheeks.

You give them all looks, “You have any idea what those two have planned?” They all give devilish smiles completely aware.

“We have been sworn to secrecy for this,” Elvira locks her mouth before throwing away the key. You groan making the three laugh before they all head out to let you get dressed. Deciding to add a pair of square diamonds to match the whole ensemble when you hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” You call out seeing from the reflection Paul enters freshly showered and dressed in a casual black suit the first few buttons undone. You can see him drinking up your appearance as he slowly stalks over as you put in one of your earrings.

“Hi, handsome.” You smile as his hands rest your hips pressing featherlight kisses across your shoulder slowly creeping up to your neck. “Thank you for the outfit.” He just hums continuing his path of kisses you hear him inhale slightly the scent of your perfume as you put your other earring in.

“I kinda regret planning this whole elaborate birthday night,” He mutters into your skin and you can feel his body heat against your back fully pressing up against you wrapping you up in his arms, “Just wanna rip these clothes off and give your birthday gift.” He bites at the crook of your neck drawing a gasp mixed with a laugh from you.

“Down boy,” You spin in his arms leaning against your dresser letting your fingers twirl the curls at the base of his neck, “As much as I would enjoy your gift. I intend to take this pretty outfit out at least once to celebrate my birthday with our friends and family before you quote ‘rip these clothes off’ end quote.” That makes Paul chuckle pressing a kiss to your lips before sighing and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Fine let’s go see all our friends and make you happy,” He grabs your hand and guides you out of your apartment.

You laugh as you follow after your sulking boyfriend, “Don’t act like you’re not gonna enjoy whatever crazy shit you and Pedro planned.” You're unsure whether to be excited or scared about what they have planned.

It started with a nice dinner just between the two of you. Nothing too crazy a simple romantic dinner with a drink or two. You were getting nervous as the night continued letting Paul lead you through the streets constantly glancing at his watch for the time.

“You’re making me nervous, Paul, " you say as you cross the street, your heels clacking against the pavement. You hold his arm, guiding him out of the way of other people walking, his gaze glued to his phone.

“We’re here!” He stops abruptly in front of a building that looks very pretty. He leans you inside before speaking briefly to the receptionist who scans you in before entering an elevator and pressing the roof floor.

“Paul, what do you have planned?” You give him a questioning look as the floor number increases and he only gives a bright smile.

“Don’t worry,” He presses a kiss to your temple as you reach the top floor exiting and are immediately bombarded by loud confetti cannons go off as you both turn the corner.

“Surprise!” A chorus of people shocked to see so many people there, your family, college friends, coworkers, actor friends, and people from all aspects of your life. The entire place is decked out in decorations, an open bar, and a DJ playing your favorite songs. There’s a cheesy grin on your face spotting Pedro beside Oscar Issac with party blowers in their mouths. A good portion is reuniting with people you haven’t seen over music and drinks, finally making your way to your core group. Bella practically tackles you with a hug most definitely a few drinks.

“Happy birthday gorgeous,” They cheese and you return an exactly as bright one.

Pedro quickly gives a bear hug pressing a kiss to your temple. “Happy birthday chiquita.”

Bella claps their hands, “Wait picture!” they pull their phone out and you roll your eyes striking a peace sign while Pedro gives a kissy face. Paul stands beside Bella laughing at your antics. The beginning of ‘Thinkin' Bout You’ by Frank Ocean comes on and you grin.

“I love this song,” You start dancing but Bella shakes their head.

“No hold still the last one was blurry,” Holding up their phone you return to your pose with Pedro, how you didn’t spot the mischievous looks on their faces until it was too late.

“A tornado flew around my room before you came,” Frank Ocean's live voice comes through the speakers and your jaw drops. Immediate laughter from them and cheers from those around you as you whip around to see the DJ booth behind you. “Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in South California.” There he was in all his glory Frank fucking Ocean singing at you.

“Holy Shit!” You scream fangirling at this point. You cover your face with your hands in shock, feeling someone come from behind pulling your hands down.

“Happy birthday,” Paul whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss. You’re glad he held you as you sang along, or you probably would’ve collapsed. You’re practically floating once he finishes, wishing you a happy birthday, hugging you, and taking a picture! Fourteen-year-old you can die happily now.

“How the fuck did you do that,” You ask still in awe cradling the custom birthday cocktail made for you. They had pulled out all the stops.

“Pedro cashed in a favor to Omar who’s friends with him,” Paul says and you spot Pedro over with his singer friend Omar Apollo who is speaking to Frank.

“Paul this is insane…like this has to be the best birthday ever.” You say.

Oscar comments in passing, “Better than your twenty-first?” That makes you burst out laughing. The infamous 21st birthday was one in the history books even if you have zero memory of it, only videos and photos serve as it.

“Seriously this is ridiculous. I love you so much.” You kiss him and he doesn’t reject answering it in kindness.

With more music and drinking the party was well celebrated but soon winded down with your core group and family there. You were sorting through the gifts received as music plays.

“Shut up P, the fuck is this?” You laugh holding what looks like a bouquet but instead of flowers, it is gift cards taped onto sticks.

“A bouquet of gift cards duh,” He says while sipping his beer, “All your favorite places from father number 2.” That makes your parents laugh and your father claps Pedro’s shoulder.

You put the gift off to the side, “Thank you, Pedro these will be gone in the week.” Paul rubs circles on your shoulder as you lean into him.

“I have something for you as well,” You look at him surprised.

“Paul you're kidding, right? You’ve already done so much tonight.” He shakes his head getting up.

“You’re my girlfriend. You think I’m not going to get you a gift. Now close your eyes” he says before heading off behind you. Bella and your sister make gagging noises and your mother shushes them.

“Paul if it’s a dog or something like that. I am not ready to be a mother,” your comments make the others laugh. Paul's chuckle comes close again and you hear the clunk of something resting on the outdoor coffee table.

“Okay open.” Opening your eyes you see a case immediately recognizing the familiar shape.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Paul teases as you frantically fumble to open the latches with your gloves revealing a gorgeous caramel acoustic guitar. Pulling the guitar out of the case someone moves it to the side looking over how beautiful it is.

“This is exactly what I wanted.” You look over at Paul with teary eyes and he swipes a stray one before it falls, “Thank you.” You pull him into a hug and you hear your mother coo to your father at the two of you.

“That's so sweet of you Paul.” She smiles as you pluck at the strings already in tune.

“Funny enough, I have something to tell you all,” you say resting the guitar to the side. A bit of nervousness crosses your face being around your closest people.

“You're pregnant.” Your sister blurts out making your parents gasp, Bella’s eyes widen, Pedro half spits out his drink and Paul chokes on his.

“No!” You see those all around you sag in relief, “I am very much not pregnant you just saw me drink all night.”

“Oh yeah.” Your sister nods forgetting that key detail.

“Like I was saying,” You give her a look before continuing, “I’ve been holding onto this news for a bit waiting for the right moment and if it was all confirmed. I auditioned for a television series and they hired me as the lead.”

“Oh sweetie that’s great.” Your mother squeezes your hand and your father nods in agreement.

“That’s amazing kid,” Pedro says and Bella nods excitedly.

Paul squeezes your arm a wide grin on his face. “That’s incredible babe.”

“What show is it?” Your sister asks those around you nodding in wonder. You try to suppress a grin as you speak.

“It’s an HBO series…called The Last of Us: Where the Wild Things Are.”

There’s a beat of silence before absolute chaos.

“We’re gonna be working together?!” Bella jumps up and down shaking a shell-shocked Pedro’s arm.

“You’re gonna be a part of The Last of Us. Oh my god, my friends are gonna freak,” Your sister screeches. Your father tries calming her down.

Your mother cries, “Oh my god honey that’s wonderful,”

Paul is just staring at you who has a sly grin across your face. “It worked out getting the guitar. I was gonna buy one to start practicing.” You shrug smugly and he just laughs shaking his head.

Your family’s reaction to the news was well-received; once it was revealed to the public, it was an explosion in media. The other projects worked on leading up to the shooting were filled with questions about this spin-off show from such a hit series. It was stressful once you got to shooting balancing being in Calgary and then flying down to California for The Mandalorian and Grogu but your team made it all possible. While you already knew some of the cast through Pedro and Bella, working on it was a completely different experience. The crew and cast were all so welcoming having these new components added to their production.

“This is weird,” Pedro says when he sees your new hair for the first time. You flash him a look. “I’m not going to be able to recognize you with your new hair.” You laugh alongside your hairstylist as she tweaks some flyaways.

“I hope you can recognize me I’m meant to be your daughter,” Craig and Neil had reached out on your opinion about dying your hair to make Pedro minus the grey aging and you had been completely on board. You weren’t concerned about getting your hair to that dark brown that would match your co-star and were honestly excited about the transformation.

“How has Paul reacted to this change? " he asks as you head to the wardrobe together.

“He likes it, definitely pushed the allegations of me being your long-lost child,” You say with a laugh and Pedro gives a concerned look.

“I don’t think I could’ve handled a child at twenty-five I could barely handle myself.” He has the most concerned look on his face just imagining being a father and you laugh.

You see two men before you one you recognize as the man you let go, Trevor or whatever the fuck his name was. The other next to him you’ve never seen but the two did look like similar brothers maybe. The revolver is aimed at the Travis guy you do know and you see the older man raise his rifle at you while the man with the gun pointed at him makes no move with his own. “I fucking told you I would kill you if I saw you again.” You hiss trying to shift your weight letting a hiss from the burning pain in your side. Thomas looks down at your side and sees your hand pressed against its blood soaking the fabric.

“You’re hurt.” He takes a step forward and your finger rests on the trigger while the other man has a clear shot at you, “Drop the gun girl.” The older man hisses and you barely glance at him as you speak.

“You’re in my fucking house dickwad don’t tell me shit.” You say before you open the chamber showing there are no bullets left, “If you’re here to get your shit back, it’s all gone or used to kill this fuckers.” You wave the empty gun to show the damaged room and the two bodies that are with you.

“Like I said before, get the fuck out of here and let me die in peace. Better yet toss me a bullet and let me finish the job.” You spat leaning your head back against the wall, waiting to hear them leave or maybe give you a way to bite the bullet.

At that moment you shift, acting as if you were bleeding out when your back seizes and you’re unable to hide the true pain.

“Holy fuck my back is seizing,” You yelp, and Pedro and Gabriel break and you can hear the laughter from the crew and camera team. “Y’all this isn’t fucking funny I’m literally dying.” You hear Craig yell cut and Pedro comes over to your hand desperately grabbing a section of your lower back.

“Jesus kid way to make us feel old as hell,” Pedro says before helping you lay down fully on the ground instead of propped up in the corner.

“You guys need to kill me I can’t deal with this,” You’re left at the mercy of Pedro who doesn’t hesitate taking embarrassing photos of you stuck on the ground that ended up as a y/n on the floor meet and greet. The internet found it very hilarious to see a picture of Pedro, Craig, and Neil all posed above you as you give a double middle finger from the floor.

With Paul working on his projects it was a bummer not having him around, especially with the time differences it was either staying late up at night to be able to talk with him briefly before you crashed or the other way around. So when he had breaks between productions he had flown to Calgary to visit you and see you in action on set. When he first saw you on set was during the fight sequence between Derek and the other boys. There were lots of pauses given this fight ends pretty bloody in the end. The SFX team dabs a bit of blood from the cut on your temple and makes sure the blood looks fresh on your knuckles.

“Awww aren’t you so pretty,” Bella coos standing beside Isabela who plays Dina while in the scene but not as active just witnessing the fight break out. Pedro and Paul stand more off to the side since he is needed in the scene. You smile at them with your split lip as they finish up your makeup letting you pop in a capsule as the actor playing Derek finishes up.

“Alright camera and sound roll,” Craig calls out from video village as you shake out your hands hoping to get the blood rushing as your scene partner smirks, “Action!”

Seeing Derek with blood pouring down his nose fire in his eyes as he holds his fists up.

“You fucking bitch!” He hisses and blood coats your teeth as you grin more sliding down your temple and you bring your fists up waving at him to come at you. With a roar, he swings a fist and you dodge landing a shot right at his kidney. A sharp gasp from the sudden pain as his hands go to grab his side not able to block his face as you drive your fist forward. The punch brings him to the ground as you pin him down your fists slamming into his face and beating the crap out of him.

He lands on the crash mat while you land behind camera taking a knee while he’s fully on his back. “Cut!” Craig calls out as the crew gets to switching things around for the new setup as you pull your scene partner to his feet. Sauntering over to Paul and Pedro off to the side as your assistant helps pull your parka at least around your shoulders keeping you warmer than the thinner coat your character wears.

“I don’t know how you like all that stunt works,” Pedro complains from his chair with Paul sitting beside him in your seat, “Makes me want to kill myself.” That draws a chuckle from you and Paul.

“I find it fun. It’s like my personal stress reliever,” You say unaware of the mildly concerned looks from Paul and Pedro.

“That sounds mildly concerning…” Paul says from beneath his scarf. Compared to most on the crew he was bundled up the most from a thick parka, gloves, a heavy-duty scarf, beanie, and probably layered up underneath.

“You all cozied up babe?” You tease and you can see his eyes roll his nose a flush to it from the cold.

“I don’t know how all of you aren’t fucking freezing,” Paul shudders as the wind blows onto the set.

“Well honestly I’m sweating from this scene so I’m protected,” You comment.

“How are you handling the New York cold,” Pedro questions.

You laugh loudly, “He hasn’t experienced it yet, currently, his attire is t-shirts and shorts. I’m surprised you even wanted to come up when it’s so much nicer back home.”

“I wanted to see you, of course, I’d deal with this cold for you,” He says, pressing a kiss gently so as not to touch the blood. You give a big smile and both Paul and Pedro grimace, “I completely forgot your mouth was bloody that was frightening.”

“Would you still like me if I looked like this?” You question.

“I think I’d be concerned why you’re beaten but yes I would still date you,” Paul confirms and you’re called back onto the set.

Whenever Paul was able to visit your spirits and energy on set were doubled. Even the day before he would arrive you’d have a skip in your step the only thing on your lips, “Did you guys know Paul is coming?” “Paul’s flight gets here in about 4 hours.” “I’m so excited to see Paul.”

It was so nice filming and not worrying about the snow as the majority of the show takes place during the winter. You had the absolute joy of meeting and working alongside the two young actresses performing the younger version of your character and Lila your half-sister. The two girls were sisters so it was plenty of fun meeting them during the read-throughs and them coming on set the first time. Your younger counterpart Haley, and your half-sister Deliah were absolute gems and the three of you grew quite attached. Even when you didn’t have shoot days coming in to see Haley, only twelve destroyed her performances and kept her occupied during breaks much to her parent’s delight. With Deliah, it was such an easy bond with this young eight-year-old playing on sets, and having lunches together. Pedro with his father figure magnet quickly pulled the two girls under his wing and his welcoming personality those kids ate it up. There was one picture you treasured during a rehearsal for the playground scene where she sees Joel again after joining her parents. Deliah has taken the rehearsal as an opportunity to play given the context of the scene. Haley had been on set that day for a costume fitting and to see her little sister, so when the crew found you, Haley, Pedro, and Deliah on a couch in a greenroom all passed out the teasing and photos pursued. Your head rested on Pedro’s shoulder with his head on top of yours, Delilah on your lap curled up into your chest, and Haley on Pedro’s side tucked under his arm asleep against him.

Some set days were better than others, especially given the topic and character development she goes through. You thought it was a skill to be able to deeply dive into these characters to create an authentic performance but sometimes it felt like a curse how it had started to take its toll against you.

“Kids go,” Joel says and Jesse and Dina nod, starting to trail away he sees Ellie look at him hesitant before she too leaves. Joel takes a step into the clearing, the crunch of snow makes you whip to face him and he raises his hands like taming a wild beast. Your chest heaves as you eye him with sharp panicked eyes. Tears stream down your flushed cheeks as you continue making that pained noise.

“I’m not gonna do anything kid,” Joel says calmly as one of your hands that grips your hair moves to your flannel clutching your collar as if it’s choking you. Joel rushes as you drop to your knees with an unhuman cry like this tidal wave of emotions finally takes over. He pries your blood hand from your hair to stop harming yourself allowing you to death grip his sleeve as you scream this gut-wrenching sound. Joel squeezes you close to his chest as your screams muffle in his coat soon it turns into a heartbreaking whimper. He has to look up to the sky to blink back the burn in his eyes holding you close to him, his hand stroking your hair to soothe you.

“It’s okay…I got you,” He says as you tremble in his hold, weak sobs and hiccups as you break down.

“Cut!” Craig calls out and Pedro pulls back and is a bit surprised seeing you’re still crying this time with your head in your hands.

“Kiddo….Chiquita,” Pedro calls out to you softly, his hand stroking your back before flashing a concerned look to Craig who quickly understands the situation.

“Let’s take ten!” He yells to the crew who look in concern at you crying with Pedro trying to soothe you but their instruction from their boss offering semi-privacy.

“Y/n you’re okay,” He whispers, “Breathe.” He forces you to notice your erratic breathing pattern borderline a panic attack. A PA rushes over with a foldout chair and some water which Pedro quickly takes. He helps guide you to sit instead of being in the cold snow, your breaths shaky but follow his calming voice. It didn’t take long for Paul who happened to be on set that day to come running over with your assistant hot on his heels. Practically skidding to his knees Paul replaces Pedro who stays by your side rubbing a strong hand up and down your back.

“Baby, what happened?” Concern in his eyes as he holds your face wiping away the tears that slide down your face. “You’re alright, you’re safe with all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup, swiping at your face and smearing some of the fake blood on your face. Your breathing had significantly calmed still a stutter with each inhale, “Oh my god this is fucking embarrassing,” You curl up into the chair and the three people around you immediately disagree with your comment.

“Stop it you just got in your head a bit, you’re alright,” Paul reassures you, cracking open the water bottle for you, helping you take a sip until you take over drinking to hydrate yourself. Paul nods to your assistant and they head over to speak to Craig and the team. “You’re okay baby, take your time.”

“I thought you were crying because my acting was that bad,” Pedro comments and that makes a smile cross your face and a light giggle. His hand squeezes your shoulder, “Take your time kid until you’re ready. You nod grateful for them and the crew. After a minute or so of drinking enough water that you don’t feel dehydrated, you nod letting them know you were good.

Craig comes over, “Are you good to go? We can give you more time.” You are grateful for his concern and you shake your head.

“Thank you but I’m good to go, I’m so sorry for that I just got so far in my head for the scene,” You apologize and Paul shush you while Craig gives you a look.

“Don’t apologize, we wanna make sure you’re good. It’s a complex role I can understand getting that deep in that headspace.” He says before heading to the crew as they prepare.

“Are you sure you’re good,” Paul looks you over, swiping away stray tears at your waterline.

“I’m good I’m sure thank you,” You promise him and he nods, pressing a quick kiss letting you know he was there for you.

“I love you,” He says and you respond in kind. Paul heads off camera though staying near in case you needed him. Both you and Pedro return to the ground and he squeezes your shoulder as a reassurance before you two hop back into the emotional scene.

You and Paul sit at one of the lunch tables watching Haley and Deliah being chased around by Pedro. The two young girls squeal as they weave through tables too fast for him as he takes breaks to catch his breath.

“Jesus Christ they’re fast,” Pedro hunches over his hands on his knees as Bella laughs from their seat. Delilah rushes over to you and Paul.

“Hide me!” She yells and you let the two girls crawl underneath the table hidden behind your knees as Pedro comes over with a playful look.

“Hmmm, I wonder where Haley and Deliah are..” He stalks by your table and you can hear the muffled giggles from underneath.

“I guess I have to take Y/n hostage!” He grabs you and you play into the bit getting up from the table.

“No! Someone help me!” You fight against Pedro as he laughs like an evil villain and you hear a faux gasp from Paul as the girls pop up from under the table.

“Y/n!” They cry out rushing over to save you. Haley jumps onto Pedro’s back and he acts like it wounded him deeply while Deliah pulls you away.

“Oh no you defeated me,” Pedro closes his eyes and Haley rushes over to you.

“We saved you!” The two cheer and you smile dropping to your knees letting the two girls hug you.

“Oh my heroes what would I’ve done without you!” You praise them and the two girls are already thinking up a new game when their mother calls for them to lunch. They groan that the fun is over but listen rushing over to their mother yelling goodbyes to you all. Returning to your table Paul has a very gentle look though his mind is a bit elsewhere.

“All good?” You ask leaning against him and returning to your food and he nods, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, you’re just good with kids.” He says and you smile up at him. You were always good with everyone but seeing you, especially around children or younger fans you have such a light to you. Speaking at their level instead of above them willing to talk about what runs through their active minds. Any other person wouldn’t sit and have an hour-long discussion with an eight-year-old about what crayons would look best for their picture but you would.

“I always liked kids. Even as a kid I also wanted a younger sibling to look at so I always loved spending time with my younger cousins or my friends’ young siblings.” You hum taking a sip of your water, “I’d want them someday, they would be so cute as babies then growing up I would spoil them rotten.”

When you talked about children he pictured you as an amazing mother, teaching your kids to respect others but also themselves, nurturing and loving them with everything in your being. As he pictured these kids running around they shared a mixture of features from both you and himself. Would they have his eyes and your hair, maybe your smile but his humor?

“You’d be a good mom to them.” He says and that makes your insides all warm as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“You’d be a good dad to them too.” He looks at you in a bit of shock, surprised that you imagine that life. With the kids and raising them but with him as their father. A smile grows on his face and you laugh at the flush that crosses his face.

“I think we should have two.” He says with all seriousness and you laugh out loud in shock but he keeps pushing, “Keep it even so one is too lonely and three is an uneven number for everything.” He had thought this all out for your imaginary family together.

“Christ Paul I’d need a ring first before even thinking about a kid.” You chuckle keeping the air light but he just nods at you, his face sincere but certain.

“I can do that.”

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h5eavenly · 8 months ago

Text

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

twelve - were angels meant to look this somber? warnings: smut , unprotected sex (stay safe!)

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Serenity fills your body, mingling through your soul and travelling all around your being. Its touch warm and gentle. Like feathers that graze the skin of your wrist. And it presses right down on your pulse. The warmth seems to intensify at the sign of your life enough to pull you out of your darkness, opening your eyes to a pair of worried eyes that stare back at you. Despite the tiredness pulling at you, you feel a weird pain sneaking its way into your heart. It pulls at it so nimbly and your eyes close shut killing your confusion just as quick.

Were angels always meant to look this somber?

Your eyes flutter open with a jolt, the unfamiliar roof above you only adds to your panic as you scramble to reach for your phone. The time only plays a smaller part in your rising panic and so you get up in a haste. Realizing you’re alone in Jake’s hotel room has your cheeks growing red in embarrassment, you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and especially not on the couch. You were supposed to check on him and leave yet how did you manage to invade his space and above all that sleep in?

You hurry to move. As if the growing humiliation will die as soon as you’re out of the room.

“Shit,shit,shit” is the only thing falling from your lips like a mantra as you wash your face briskly. It’s only when you’re about to leave the room that you catch sight of the coffee and a couple of bills on the table. You pause, the coffee is still warm when you pick it up despite the lack of a note or any confirmation you know he left it for you.

It’s only a small gesture and yet like a flutter of a butterfly wing that has abraded the surface of your heart it spreads warmth through it. Setting an unfamiliar feeling right at the center, pulling at your heartstrings so easily along with the corner of your lips. They turn upwards with a smile embedded with softness as faint as the chirping of the birds outside.

Then you ensnare yourself in a similar trap, a cage that you just got out of recently and yet you’re now walking back into smiling and so an ever growing darker one follows. Akin to childhood scars that loom on your life. Fear.

On your way to work your mind recalls glimpses of last night, from Jake’s boredom filled expression to later the sight of his worried eyes staring at you. The cold scratched touches you felt against your skin. and yet you remain unsure the longer your thoughts stretch. It only propels the questions further: was the solemn angel looking down at you with broken wings a dream or reality?

You don’t get to think about that same question and instead about a hundred different ones prod at your mind throughout the day when you realize Jake is avoiding you. At first it wasn’t super noticeable or more accurately it wasn’t noticeable to you. It all started with you walking into his dressing room ten minutes late.

“Someone had a wild night,” Sunghoon comments, walking past you with a smirk and you hit his shoulder lightly with a giggle.

“Good morning.” You greet.

Jay tilts his head at you with a nod as a response and your eyes flicker to Jake who is sitting down in his usual seat. Probably minutes away from getting his makeup done. The lack of answer from him doesn’t raise any questions in your head.

However, you grow into concern the longer your gaze settles upon him, despite his face remaining an exuberant beauty the bags under his eyes dragging a bit deeper, eyes a little colder, they’re almost empty and his expression is nothing short of crestfallen.

“You okay?” you ask him, tone so soft that when Jake reaches for his earbuds and puts them on, you aren’t sure if he’s ignoring you or didn’t hear you.

It stirs a weird sense of anxiety within you, you brush it off.

Your anxiety comes back tenfold, brushing against your fingertips and this time you can’t seem to let it go. It’s in the way Jake never looks at you, not even for a spilt second and if he did somehow mess up and stumble upon your gaze, his irises are void of emotions. Like he’s nothing but a soulless body walking around. It’s in the way every time you talk to him, he’ll reply with a word or two, or not even acknowledge your existence as you fiddle with your fingers awkwardly.

Rationally you know you might be embellishing things in your head. You know that your relationship with Jake was never on friendly terms and it’s not like you and him were having delightful daily conversations. If anything, you have probably spent time in the bathroom more than any time talking to him. Yet how come you’re growing anxious over something so transitory? Closer to being notional than non.

Nonetheless you flow with a grave excitement when your phone buzzes and you see a message incoming from him.

my boss is a dick 🙏: Are you stupid? Yn: Huh? my boss is a dick 🙏: why are you carrying these heavy boxes? Ask one of the staff to do it.

You blink at the box you just left on the ground; it was only moments ago that you came across one of the staff struggling to carry boxes inside the building alone. It was a diligent call for help and who were you to ignore it?

Your fingers fly across the screen to type out a reply.

Yn: Oh, the staff looked like they needed help with it, so I decided to do it. my boss is a dick 🙏: you’ll hurt yourself. Leave them. Yn: Don’t worry boss 😤! I’m actually really strong! Read.

Although you kept checking your phone multiple times throughout the day, a reply never comes, and despite you telling yourself that he doesn’t need to reply, that he had left you on read multiple times before. That this is how Jake always acts. Your anxiety still grows tremendously. like thorns pricking at your being.

It drives you into a need to somehow please and tame down an anger that doesn’t even exist. It permeates into you and spreads through the vessels in your brain and you’re nothing if not a slave to your misplaced worries. And so, you stick to Jake’s side all day. Like a puppy following its owner and fetching them anything, ambitious for praises and maybe a pat on the head.

You only manage to get a side eye from him when you open doors for him, or when you’re fixing his chair, his belongings. You went as far as to fix his hair that was out of place. Apart from the weirded-out look he sent your way; you got nothing and it all accumulates to an explosion during lunch time.

“I think Jake is mad at me!” you blurt out, pausing the pacing of your foot back and forth and you chew on your nail nervously.

Sunoo and Sunghoon share a look that you don’t get to witness. Your eyes beholding the back of Jake’s head who’s busy eating his lunch no further than a few meters away from you.

“Why do you think so?” Sunoo asks between full bites of kimbap.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t it seem like he’s avoiding me?”

“He seems pretty normal to me?” Sunghoon says, eyeing the way you start to pace back and forth again.

“He looks a little tired that’s all.” Sunoo adds and you shake your head in complete gainsay. Just as you’re about to go on a full rant on why you think you should dedicate the rest of your life to giving Jake a handwritten apology for everything wrong you’ve ever said to him, your thoughts are interrupted upon hearing his next words:

“Why is this salty?” He’s complaining to Jay. Despite the distance and the loud chatter of the staff members you hear it so very clearly. And you know it’s god’s mercy that have finally fallen onto your lap. A golden ticket is offered to you, and you snatch it with vigor.

Like a being suddenly taken over by superpowers, your senses are heightened (probably by your enormous anxiety) you feel like spiderman when the words Jake’s mutter reach your ears like you’re next to him. And so, you dash towards him leaving behind a very confused Sunoo and Sunghoon,

“Your food is salty?” Jake jolts in surprise at your voice, looking up behind him at your figure that almost seems like it materialized out of nowhere.

“What the fuck?” he mutters, and your lips stretch into a grin, doe eyes widening, taken by a twinkle of a desperate need to please.

“There’s this new Chinese restaurant that opened close by the company. I can head down there and get you something?” he opens his mouth to answer but you don’t even let him, immediately picking up where you left off “I had a little chat with one of the employees earlier and she said they have really good spicy garlic noodles I can grab you some?”

You’re rambling. You realize it when the room grows quieter the longer your words take to fall from your lips. And so, your face burns with heat, turning hot and red in color when you feel multiple eyes are on you. Jake’s eyes are blank as they linger on you.

“I’m fine, yn.” he says so simply as if his words didn’t resemble that same pitying god, you hate so much.

“Oh well- “you cover up your discomfiture with a nervous chuckle, feeling overtaken by embarrassment that you cannot explain how it managed its way into you “I have this pistachio chocolate cupcake I got earlier in my bag I can get it for you.” You go to turn to grab it, but his hand circles your wrist to stop you.

The touch is so strikingly familiar. It has goosebumps erupting on your skin in the span of a heartbeat.

Your body keeps track of everything.

“Are you trying to kill me, bunny?” he deadpans, and you blink stunned.

“What?”

“Jake is allergic to pistachios yn.” Jay speaks from beside him, a soft smile colored in a similar fellow feeling, and you find yourself wishing your face didn’t burn the way it did.

“Oh right.”

You walk away with a smile tinted with pitiful awkwardness, it has you curling onto yourself and wishing to minimize in size. Or maybe blend in with the walls and not have to be perceived for a while.

Your pessimistic emotions only seem to intensify the longer your day drags on. like a shadow trailing your every step and clinging to your feet. Painting the inside of your mind with an eerie silence and aiding your screaming insecurities to raise above all. Taking over every sense of logical thinking (not like you had any to begin with). Like a whirlwind of negativity that overtakes you they’re nothing but obstructive.

And that’s how you end up right outside of Jake’s waiting room. A cup filled with water and a couple of ice cubs just because you heard him talk about how his water wasn’t cold enough, it probably wasn’t something that salient. If Jake needed a different water, he would have talked to you or got it himself and yet you somehow found yourself way too far in. An it itch in your fingers and your limbs that you cannot seem to resist you rushed with that same ambition to please and got him water. Cosplaying yourself as some sort of a fairy that grants wishes. It’s the only way to persist before your thoughts anyways.

You have never been the type of person to eavesdrop so you aren’t sure why your hand stills against the doorknob when you hear the voices of Jay and Jake talking, it might not even be that much of importance but perhaps it was your unpliable need to know anything that could help quieten your anxiety.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You can leave early I’ll talk to Jennie about it.” you hear Jay ask and you press yourself closer to the door.

“I’m fine.”

“That was the worst attack you have had in a while Jake.”

“I know,” there’s a short silence that settles, your mind starts screaming at you, that you’re being ridiculous and to stop this nonsense yet your fingers flex against the doorknob and pause at his next words “and it had to be in front of her out of all people.”

Is he talking about you?

“Ah. You’re worried about that?”

“Of course, I am. I wish yn wasn’t there.”

Your heart, as weak as ever drops at that, shattering right at your feet and you stare at it, unable to move, unable to collect the pieces.

“I know. "a breath of exhalation escapes Jay "Did you even sleep? You look super fucking tired man.” he adds.

“I did sleep.”

“Jake.”

“For like three hours. I kept waking up because of her.”

“Fuck. I shouldn’t have let her stay back.”

You aren’t sure if their conversation ends there or the scratch forming on your heart has somehow started working as an obstacle to your hearing. Every fiber of your being throbs with a familiar betrayal, an all too known feeling that is always lingering around the corner clambers over you. Disappointment latches itself onto you.

At the sound of rustling behind the door you realize you can’t be standing outside like this and so collecting yourself is a trying task you attempt. And it all falls apart way too quickly, you opening the door and Jake walking out at the same minute. You don’t get a chance to blink or stop yourself before you’re bumping into him. The contents of the glass you’re carrying is splashed all over him. Soaking his shirt and you could only watch with terror as he drips in water.

“Oh my god,” your hands are frozen in the air unsure if you should be touching him “I’m so sorry Jake – fuck” apologizes flee from your mouth without resistance. You’re overshadowed by liability, and you expect Jake to be angry, to glare at you and even go as far to yell because you deem yourself only worthy of such treatment.

But you don’t expect the apathy coloring his face. His eyes are drained of life and overtaken by exhaustion.

“It’s fine, bunny.” His words are out akin to a sigh and yours dissolve on your tongue. He dawdles past you with another sigh and your shoulders slump, eyes flickering to Jay who watched the whole thing unravel.

“s-should I get him a shirt or something?”

“I think he can manage himself yn.”

The smile Jay sends you is as gentle as ever yet there’s an underlining sympathy that makes you feel as if he knows you heard everything. You’re not indisputable enough to understand anything anymore. But you know that Jake is exhausted, and you have managed to add piles of burden to his already heavy shoulders. It is too late, but you realize then, that you have caught yourself too far in once again. Too much.

It's a familiar relic from a state you’ve always known, always found yourself drowned in. it’s mere moments that plunge you into the frigid truth and you’re constantly treading on recrimination of yourself.

You are but an infuriating entity.

God hated you. You’re sure of it. You must have done something so awful in your past life to end up where you are right now. There’s no other way to explain how you’re outside of Jake’s apartment with his phone between your fingers and you, drenched in water because the sky decided it’s the perfect time to pour the moment you stepped foot outside the company doors.

Jake is god’s favorite. This must be karma for spilling water on him earlier. You knew you were meant to walk into a mess the moment you were getting ready to leave and Jay had found you, an apologetic smile on his face as he told you that Jake had forgotten his phone and if you could take it to him.

You should have said no.

“What are you doing here?” Jake asks as soon as he opens his door, surprise evident in his tone as his eyes take in your trembling figure.

“Your phone,” your voice shakes as you extend your palm to him with the device in it. Jake blinks, taking his phone as he tries to register everything that’s going on, but you don’t give him a chance to linger on any passing thought. Not a chance for his eyes to take in your disheveled state.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry about everything." taking a deep breath in and then like a monster that has been unleashed, your anxiety transforms itself in the only way you know how to be; sorry.

"I’m sorry about pressuring you to see me yesterday. I’m sorry about falling asleep on your couch and I’m sorry about today I know I was being so annoying-“ your apologies fall like confessions, like sins and you’re only awaiting punishment to strike you.

“Woah! Woah, slow down yn.” He interrupts you, eyes fliting across your features in evident concern, and you take another deep breath in. not realizing how quickly your tears have managed to well up in your eyes.

“It’s fine,” he assures when you look down at your feet suddenly growing embarrassed “you’re fine.”

“Okay.” You sniffle, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“Come inside.” he suggests, his fingers envelope your palm and you shake your head.

“I don’t want to annoy you.” You reply in a small voice.

“I’m not letting you leave like this bunny you’re shaking. Come on.”

As Jake leads you inside, you watch with an inquisitive gaze as he immediately places his phone on the counter and heads for the kitchen sink. You stand there for minutes that seem to stretch way too long as he turns on the water and seem to be washing his hands. your eyes dancing across the opulent interior as the sound of running water fills the silence between you two.

Your gaze settles upon the vase of blue colored flowers in the middle of his table. A litheness you don’t expect to see in his belongings. A struck of color in between his blacks and white, it looks out of place.

“What are those flowers called?” When Jake turns the water off and faces you, there’s a distant look in his eyes, as they flicker between you and the flowers. It's solely momentary, yet you capture it.

“Forget me not.”

You grasp how you dislike the way you act around him. Repeatedly stumbling on a cold façade, putting on an overly exaggerated charade that somehow never goes through. While Jake is akin to a strong mountain, unweaving. You feel like the wind, hallow and fleeting.

You’re pushed into feeling like an embarrassing child and the feeling stays even when you end up in his shower. Covered in a scent that isn’t yours but one that you know, one that is strong enough to provoke dark emotions from you. has your cheeks blushing and blooming into things you pretend you don’t know. Even when you’re all clean and dressed in another woman’s clothes that you can’t help but wonder why he has. Your blush remains despite the hideous green sense of foreboding crawling up your spine.

“Fits okay?” he asks once you’re out the bathroom and you hum an approval.

“Why do you have a woman’s clothes though?” the question escapes before you can stop it, your teeth biting down on your lip. And your insides are set ablaze when his eyes dart to them.

“They’re Soojin’s. She stays over sometimes.”

“You guys seem to be close.”

“Yeah,” he hums, brushing past you to the bathroom and your eyes follow him. Watching with intent focus “it’s good that she was there last night when you know..” You trail off, your fingers fiddling with the end of the sweater you’re wearing nervously.

“Soojin is always there. She’s so attentive and observant to the point where it’s annoying at times.”

His words resemble the edge of a blade that’s plunged straight into your chest. His words from earlier swirl around your head and that combined with her remnants lying in his space evokes emotions from you that you wish did not manifest within you.

The sound of running water fills the empty spaces of silence between you once again, you lean your head on the wall and watch as Jake washes his hands once again. Telling yourself it’s not because he just touched your clothes is a trying task you fail.

“How long have you guys known each other?” Your question hangs in the air, unanswered. His speech impairment has you raising an eyebrow in confusion. Jake is staring at nothing in particular, eyes unblinking and clouded. It takes a few tantalizing minutes before he snaps himself out of a daze.

“Huh?”

“I asked how long you guys have known each other?” you repeat, the syllables coming out slower.

In response, Jake closes the water and takes a step forward, his shoulder brushes against yours delicately and you hold your breath without meaning to “a while,” he mumbles, vaguely as he walks back into his room and again you follow.

You feel akin to standing at the edge of a cliff, close to jumping into an ocean filled with nothing but regrets and sorrow when he sits on his bed and his eyes find yours. As if finding the brightest star upon a dark night sky.

“C’mere bunny.” He pats the space in front of him, your knees buckle under you, you hear your heartbeat in your ears.

There’s no way for you to feel safe here, is what you think as you take hesitant steps towards the bed and with a lumbersome feeling clinging to your body. You settle upon the soft sheets, his scent envelopes you and the tilt of his lips is enough to have your cheeks warming up.

“Turn around.”

“What are we doing exactly?” you ask, tone laced with suspicion, and he rolls his eyes at you.

“Your shoulders hurt from carrying those boxes earlier today, don’t they? I have this pain relief gel for you. Turn around.”

You cannot help the surprise that overtakes you, hadn’t expected such a kind gesture from him and so like a thin thread of string you bend so easily. Pulling so effortlessly at your heartstrings, your blush only deepens, a darker feeling lurks beneath the surface.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m okay really.” You reply, a flimsy excuse of defiance.

“Bullshit. Turn around stop making me repeat myself.” His tone is stern and it’s enough to have you growing weaker if possible. You swallow around nothing, giving him your back and nerves creases your features.

With his hand encircling your waist he swiftly pulls you closer to him, raising a gasp from you when you feel his breath hit the back of your neck, eliciting shivers from you and an exhalation.

“I’m gonna lift your shirt up,” he whispers, voice so low it only helps you divulge into desires that you thought you successfully locked away. At your silent nod, he lifts your sweater enough for him to see your bare skin slowly come into view.

His fingers are cold against your shoulder blades, the feeling of his new forming scabs are rough and yet you manage to find tenderness lacing them. It’s anything but pleasant so why does it have heat licking its way up your stomach? Fiery hot and overwhelmingly impossible to ignore.

It’s the way his touch feels the same way it felt in your dream. Like grazing feathers, as soft as you imagine feeling heaven on your skin would be like. It’s as if you’re a delicate flower that he’s too afraid to pressure, to hurt. As if you would fall apart as easy as it is for his fingers to touch and perhaps that’s why it felt so facile for your brain to melt, like running water that is incapable of coming up with a strong enough defense. Conceivably you surrender.

When you turn your head to look back at him his face is mere inches away from yours. His eyes catch yours, capturing them into place and how is it possible for you not will yourself to him when they’re so clear. When they break through you as if you were a trivial piece of glass, you are so fragile you break with the blink of his eye. You fall apart with his rattled breath brushing against your lips, his thumb on your shoulder blade. You’re like a trivial piece of glass, see through and so you spill all your contents to him.

It’s in the way your irises soften in a manner so foreign to him, the tilt of your brows in affectionate rendition is so quick, almost like a ghost floating by that he’s not sure he sees it when this time your castle burns to the ground first. So abrupt, swift, and more than anything destructive your lips seek his as though they didn’t know anything else.

You kiss him and it’s innocent, short yet enough to have you breathless. Your body tingling with overflowing warmth when your hand cups his jaw akin to a delusional trick a sweet lover would pull.

“What was that for?” he asks when you pull away, eyes lidded as they implore into yours.

“I don’t know I just-“ you try to conjure a smart enough of a response. Something that could be passed by as sexy enough to match up with this brittle boldness yet you’re traipsing on your words and then there’s nothing. They melt on your tongue and in the darkening shade of his gaze “I’m sorry I don’t know what I was thinking.” You settle with, bashful like crushed petals of roses have found home on your cheeks.

Your temerity flees before it’s even here, eclipsed by a hallow void, touch starved.

You stitch your pride together with fallacious force, the same one you use to tilt your lips upwards into a faux smile. You attempt with a quivering heart that you pray will turn coarse one day yet today seems to join a chain of failures. That same shakiness runs through your hands as an attempt to collect the ashes of your dignity. You’re barely kept together by anything when his hand is turning your head to face him.

The intensity of his stare is unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed, it could only be inhuman. A beauty so out of this world it feels unjust to for you to behold. Jake is astoundingly breathtaking, exuberant as if every eyelash was carefully crafted by an angel. He is god’s finest work.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, bunny.” His words are whispered right upon your lips, and in a brief exhale, a fluttering of your lashes, he’s nothing sort of angelic and so you go to pieces, unsure if it’s a warning or an entitle of temptation.

You’re nothing but a trivial piece of glass, albeit even when you shatter, you’re rough and you cut into his flesh deep and painful. You turn your body fully to face him, as if controlled by your desire you straddle him, and his hands fall to your hips naturally. His palms itching all over until they are under your shirt, and you shudder.

“Should I finish it then?” you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his neck and your labored breaths are your enlarged lust's giveaway.

A phantom of a smirk starts to form on his pinking lips, and you don’t give room for triumphant to bloom further before crashing your lips into his. The kiss is nothing alike the one before, it’s rough and desperate, all teeth and tongue and you move together as if tranced, lead forward by an overwhelming hunger clawing at you. It makes itself evident in him when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer into him, pressing himself more against you.

You taste so sweet, dripping with lure and Jake licks it up. Your body fits perfectly into his plan, articulated by his mind’s need to run away.

You feel him smile lazily against your lips when you start grinding down on him in a despairing need, your desire breaks your faith first.

“You want it that bad?” he murmurs, pulling away just enough to let his words out. It is more than enough to irk you, yet you find nothing to say back. Not when his fingertips are venturing under your shirt, grazing the soft skin of your hips.

You roll your eyes in apparent disregard, focusing on the way your body grows hotter by the second and yet Jake remains tenacious.

“Mhm?” He itches for an answer, gaze chasing your wandering one and this time you take his lips for yours in attempts to quieten him. It seems to work because he groans against your mouth, licking inside your lips as his hands move to the swell of your ass.

It works until it doesn’t anymore. Until the way his endless need to annoy you takes over.

“You’re awfully quiet compared to last time.” He says softly, leaning down to place kisses upon your jaw and if he wasn’t smiling you wouldn’t notice the teasing edge.

“And you’re awfully talkative.” You retort, turning your head to give him better access to your skin.

“Mhm.” There’s a pause, tantalizing enough to have you squirming on top of him when his teeth to nibble on your earlobe.

“You missed my cock that much?”

What a fucking arrogant piece of -

“You didn’t last long enough for me to miss it.” He chuckles against your neck, the sound travelling straight to your stomach and goosebumps erupt all over you. you convince yourself it’s because of the feeling of his lips.

“Acting if you weren’t the one who came first.”

“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” you huff, pushing at his shoulder and he follows easily enough to know there’s a catch. It manifests in the way he leans his head against his headboard with that smug smile disperses across his lips. Strands of his dark hair fall over his eyes almost perfectly into place to paint the picture of how a devil would gleam with satisfaction.

“Maybe if you beg me this time. Can you do that?” his words set your insides ablaze and you aren’t sure it it’s anger or just pure lust at this point.

You were never religious enough to go against sins, nor do you wish you were and so you chase after him, blinded by the glamour of him. Your foreheads touch and his eyes are on your lips following every rising breath you let out, his façade almost falls apart by the way you keep grinding against him, his cock is already half hard.it almost falters if your eyes weren’t turning hazy.

“Fuck off.” You breathe out against his lips, all bark no bite and he chuckles incredulously “I could just go and ask anyone else to fuck me.” You’re almost moaning your words out, the shake in your voice gives your want away and that’s why Jake is growing amused, titling his head to watch the way you somehow managed to hang on by the edge of falling apart without him touching you.

“Oh yeah? why don’t you go and do that then?” he replies minutely.

“Maybe I will.”

“Uh huh. Who do you have to ask?”

“a-a lot of people.”

“Like who? Give me names bunny.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I’m just curious since you brought it up.” He coos and you huff in response, your frustration grows adjacent with your lust. You wish upon any star in the night that he’ll shut up and fuck you, his lopsided smirk tells you otherwise.

Your eyes harden into a glare, yet the trembling of your fingers and your heaving chest unravel your weakness for him. It’s all so evident to him.

“They’ll probably make me feel so much better too.” You mumble.

in stark contrast to your expectations, you somehow contrive to dismantle his curtains of indifference, every semblance of fun leaves his body replaced by a parching heat. Akin to anger that turns his stare icy, it has a shiver running down your body and a soft gasp escapes you when he pulls you flush against him.

“You fucking piss me off bunny.” He spits through his teeth and this time you’re the one glistening with elation.

“Good.” You breathe out when he rolls his eyes at you, he shifts your position and before you get a time to blink, to think. You’re on your back against the plush bed sheets.

“Quiet.” His lips are a breath away from yours and you arch into him, a yearning for the taste of him and he compiles. Meeting you in the middle for a kiss, too rough, too messy and yet his hand against your cheek is anything but that. Too gentle, too tender and you feel it in the deepest parts of you.

You loathe it.

You loathe it even more when you’re momentarily separated with your shirt being taken off and when your eyes cross again there’s a flicker in his gaze, they soften for a fleeting moment, his hand caresses your cheek and it’s too lenient for a sexually explicit instant. You almost miss it all, by the twinkling of an eye you dimly register how his eyes glaze over. How there’s a pause in his air as his eyes rake over your body, over your nude breasts, your slender neck and then he’s drowning in you, akin to an ocean he wants to bask in.

You’re almost as pretty as the forget me nots coming to life with full bloom in his living room. However, you’re nothing alike, you smell so much sweeter, cinnamon, and vanilla ricochets off you, and he comes by himself growing dizzy. You’re so cordial, equivalent to the cherry blossoms he witnessed last spring.

You’re almost as pretty as his forget me nots and yet you’re nothing like them at all. There’s no way for someone like you to be anything close to tepid. So, he ignores the question raising in your gaze.

It’s evanescent yet your heart constricts in your chest, painfully so when he leans down and kisses you again, your words are stolen by his soft lips, and he ventures with them just the same. Leaving a trail of kisses in-between your breasts and all the way down.

“Didn’t think you’d have a tattoo,” he speaks against your skin and it’s fairly unjust how you tremble. Your skin feels sensitive under his touch as if they were flames upon you.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Is this the fucking alien from toystory?” his thumb brushes against your hipbone, right where your small piece of ink is at and you groan, overwhelmed by the need to hide your face somewhere.

“What about it?”

“It’s not very well done if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah, because it’s a stick and poke. My friend did it on me when he was like 17.” You look down to glare at him and it falters as quick as it comes, melting away into your arousal. Because the sight of Jake being between your legs is something you couldn’t have prepared for.

Not in this lifetime or the one before.

“Are you still friends with him?”

“Yeah. he’s my best friend.” You answer with a sigh, falling back into the pillows with a flushed face when you feel Jake’s lips hover over your tattoo before he kisses right above it, slowly enjoying the taste of your skin.

“Jake..” Your voice comes out as soft as a mewl when you thread your fingers through his dark hair, you can’t help but think about how soft it is, how his sheets smell exactly like him. You realize a tad too late that you’ve somehow drowned yourself in pieces of him and it only flusters you further.

“Mhm?”

“What are you doing?” you splutter when your pants are swiftly unbuttoned and pushed down the length of your legs. You grow self-conscious at the realization that you’re almost fully nude in front of him for the first time.

“I’m gonna make you feel good. what does it look like I’m doing?” With bated breath, your thoughts grow overwhelmingly loud with screaming insecurities that you don’t get to register his next words fully;

“I’m not keeping you quiet this time so you can be as loud as you want to be. Let me hear you bunny.” His tone is laced with allure, profoundly ample for you to clench around nothing.

A squeal escapes you when you feel his breath against your clothed cunt and then he’s burying his nose into you, feeling you completely soaked, it’s only added inflation to his ego “J-jake w-wait-“ you sputter with a burning face, your fingers tug at his hair and yet he ignores you. busy with taking your panties off.

“When was the last time you got your pretty pussy eaten, bunny?” you open and close your mouth a couple of times in shock. Somehow your mind cannot keep up with how lewd an angel’s mouth could be.

It is not something you prepared to hear that you almost ebb and flow out of consciousness, your sanity clings by a hair.

“Stop asking me stupid questions Jake!” you groan, burying your burning face in your hands. and much to your annoyance he chuckles in response.

“So, you can be cute too.” Your heart, as delicate as it always has been, throbs against your ribs as if trying to break free. You peek at him through your fingers and his hungry eyes flicker up to yours as if he senses your stare. Their severity is enough for you to fall into a feeble silence.

you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds and your lips fall apart with a silent scream fuck! Is the only thing running through your mind when you tug his hair harder, and he groans against your pussy sending vibrations throughout your entire body. tongue pushing into your hole and lips kissing and sucking at your clit.

Every negative thought swirling around your mind moments ago grows faint then it dissipates instead being replaced with your stubborn pettiness that is telling you to keep silent, do not give him the satisfaction of knowing how good it feels.

It's all deemed impossible when he keeps flicking his tongue against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating, and you crumble exasperatingly fast.

“F-fuck!- mhm –“ Your body is buzzing with electricity, your sounds forcing themselves out of your mouth as your body withers against his sheets.

It doesn’t help that Jake keeps humming against your pussy, as if you do taste as sweet as he sounds. As if he’s having the time of his life watching you fall apart on his tongue. It only aids the last bit of resolve within you to shatter.

“Jake- oh my god- f-feels so good.” You cry out, hips arching so high off the bed and your toes curl in absolute euphoria. You feel akin to falling off a cliff, like constantly being on the verge of losing your mind when two fingers prod at your clenching entrance, proceeding to push in without warning. It’s all what it took for you to completely implode in ecstasy.

“c-coming- I’m coming- holy” you attempt to warn him, your trembling fingers trying to pry his head away from your throbbing pussy, but Jake doesn’t relent, instead you feel him smile against you, reinforces his grip on your hips and buries his fingers deeper into you, following every buck and twitch of your hips with ease.

Son of a bitch.

“J-jake!” You aren’t sure how loud your voice goes, aren’t sure of how hard you pulled on his hair and how painful it must have been. You’re only sure of how your mouth falls open and by the end of your orgasm you feel like you’re floating amongst the stars. You whine when he keeps pressing kisses to your puffy folds, your hips bucking away from him.

“s-stop. Too much.” You whimper, with stroke of your fingers through his hair as if your digits have grown apologetic to their radge behavior on their own.

When Jake lifts his head, you catch yourself growing breathless once again at the sight of his face covered in you, nothing could have prepared you for it, nothing could come close to how he manages to look ethereal even while covered in your arousal. How his dilated pupils manage to find a way to cut right through you. you’re trying so hard to breath – equally stolen by your orgasm and how angelic he looks.

“Too much? I haven’t even fucked you yet,” he muses, an arrogant smile taking place onto his handsome face. Your mind is hazy that you don’t find anything to say back, your eyes dancing around his and he arches a brow at your silence and you almost squirm, a growing urge to look away yet your pride grows taller.

“Don’t tell me your shitty excuse of an ex never made you come twice before?”

“I don’t feel like talking about my ex when you’re about to fuck me.”

“Oh? Weren’t you the one talking about other men when I was about to fuck you?” his tone is stagnant, and you look away with hot cheeks. it’s inhuman how piercing his eyes are.

“that’s different.” You mutter weakly. Your mind is too fucked out to think of anything witty to say.

Thankfully Jake doesn’t seem to have anything to say either. Instead, the sound of clothes rustling fills the room as Jake takes off his shirt. When he leans over you, your eyes meet in all too presumptuous severity. It coaxes forth the gentle touch of his rough palm against your cheek and your palms trace his chest. and it’s prodigiously scorching. With a strong impulse, you kiss him first and he chases after your taste like a starved man.

His need grows glaringly obvious, his indifference crumbling albeit much later than yours, it ends up right next to your petty recalcitrant. It has a faint grin dancing upon your lips.

“I need to get a condom.” He whispers, his lips abutting against yours.

“I’m on the pill. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just fuck me already.”

Despite your demeaning desperation you’re rewarded with a quirk of his lips, his thumb brushes under your bottom lip and when he places a fugitive brush of a kiss there, you grow a hinge to curl into yourself. There’s a divergent gentleness that coats his actions, it has the apples of your cheeks growing warm, tinged with pink. When he leans back his hand works fast to undo his jeans and you allow your eyes to travel across the expanse of his body with appreciation, you’re unable to hide it.

You find yourself growing in awe again, so pretty.

He’s so pretty.

When his lips touch yours, you think that’s what stepping into heaven must feel like, and you could only whimper against his lips when you feel the tip of his cock begin to prod at your entrance. It turns into a broken moan at the feeling of him entering inside you, your head drops back into the pillows and his hands fall on your hips with a bruising grip.

“Jesus, this pussy is gonna drive me fucking crazy.” He growls, thrusts growing faster and harder. Barely giving you any time to adjust or breathe. Your body pushed further up the bed with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room and it all grows way too lewd, too quickly.

Soft cries leave your mouth and your body writhes against his, your nails dragging along his back, rough enough to leave evidence for the following couple of days. You don’t have it in you to care, not right now not when he keeps driving his hips into yours, eliciting louder and louder moans from you.

“You’re so loud, bunny. Does it feel that good?” There’s a dark glint in his eyes when he asks, a mean edge to his tone.

“S-shut up- ah!” you try your utmost hardest to glare at him, yet you slip at a particularly hard thrust of his. His cold chuckle only pushes you further into anger. Like it runs in your veins and with your blood. It’s almost patronizing.

“How am I gonna explain this to my neighbors?” with his question he leans closer to you, his lips inches away from yours as they curl into a smile that should be considered evil “mhm?” he taunts and you groan, pushing his face away from yours with your hand.

“Fucking asshole,” you hiss. Resisting the urge to cover your face, you won’t give him the satisfaction of that. It all seems futile though when his grin goes wider. Pressing his lips onto yours with a short kiss, just to see you try to harden your eyes at him again.

To see the same glare melt away and then your brows knit together, turning your head and then you’re attempting to cover your face with a quivering hand, as if harboring a shield from the bullets he carries as his eyes.

“I’m close.” He murmurs, a tad too sweet as his hands abandon your hips and circles your wrists instead, pressing them into the sheets and his hips are pounding against yours. And you can only gasp in response, your fingers flexing in his brutal grip, sure to leave evidence of his own on your body. Your own orgasm approaches just as fast and almost as intense as your first one.

“You too yeah? I can feel you clenching around me nonstop- holy shit.” you nod furiously. His voice alone is vigorous enough to send shivers of pleasure through your entire body and your eyesight starts to blur with unshed tears.

Jake cannot perfectly recall it, he’s almost sure he was enamored by how you look the first time he saw you but nothing could compare to how you look right now. Nothing could come close to how pretty you look crying on his cock.

It feels dizzying, the way your cunt keeps squeezing him and the way your face screws up, body trembling and mouth falling open it’s all more than enough to send him over the edge.

You don’t expect him to kiss you, but he does, it’s so softly sweet it steals your breath away and you’re growing frustrated because of it. Raking your mind to find a reason as to why and coming back empty handed yet again.

How is it possible for a mere kiss to feel unanticipatedly sinful?

You break it first, failing to look away fast enough not to catch his eyes and yet again you’re stumbling into weird feelings once more with how unweaving his gaze is. Strength that you lack and unlike him you’re constantly trembling. He captivates you with his beauty a second time and you’re more than thankful when he rolls off you with a sigh. It has you letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Despite the silence growing heavy between you two, it doesn’t last very long.

“Get up.” Jake speaks, stumbling out of his bed to change his clothes. A grimace on his face.

“What?” you ask, blinking at him.

“Get up. I need to wash the sheets.” He answers, monotone but not unkindly.

“Can’t we rest and then you can wash them later?”

“No. I’m washing them now so get up,”

But I’m tired.

“Okay.”

Are words you swallow down, realizing you’re probably being a nuisance. You tumbled into his apartment without permission and so you get up. Jake moves to tug off his sheets. As he collects them in his arms he shoots you a look.

You have already given him enough trouble these few days and just as the clouds of lust disappeared, the guilt takes over.

“I’m gonna go wash them in the other bathroom. Use this one to clean up.” At your nod he leaves the room.

You clean up at a speed that cannot be deemed human, putting Soojin’s clothes back on and leave without another word muttered to Jake. You leave with a heavy feeling clinging to the edge of your feet. It paints your whole being and only bleeds out from your eyes when you’re in the back of a cab. Silent tears stream down your face for the first time in quite a while.

It coaxes a deep self-hatred you know runs through your blood. From a trivial piece of glass, you grow to feel more like a graveyard, collecting bodies that never stay, never flourish into life, and mellow down to fleeting moments closer to death than anything else. Your existence feels embarrassing, overwhelming, and utmost cruelly lonely.

You realize it then, it was never Jake, or anyone else at that. It was always you.

When Jake comes back to his room there’s a bottled water and a protein bar in his hand that are deemed useless as soon as he sees that you’re nowhere to be found.

“What the fuck?” He mutters to no one, to himself and perhaps to the thoughts coming back to invade his mind like a parasite.

His disappointment doesn’t linger very long, it goes away with the shake of his head.

You realize chaos is unfolding the moment you’re in the corridor leading to your apartment. The sound of music is so loud that it cannot be coming from anywhere else. and you’re right because when you’re inside, bottles of alcohol lying everywhere are more than enough evidence to tell you so. And the smell of smoke greets you.

“What the fuck guys?” you exclaim, hand on your hips while a very high and drunk npp stare back at you. Jungwon is lying on your couch upside down, while Heeseung blinks at you with a joint between his fingers.

“What? We’re just having fun.” Ryujin defends with a giggle, words slurring together.

“I can see that.” You reply nonchalantly. With a sigh you go to turn off the music and a loud and in union “NO!” has you jumping startled, a look of horror washes over your face.

“Why do you have to kill the fun?” Niki whines.

“Your so-called fun is gonna get me kicked out. I could hear the music all the way down the hall.”

“Woah,” Jungwon speaks suddenly, stealing everyone’s attention “your tits look huge like this.” He says amusement colors his voice and really, you’ve long made peace with the fact that your friends are insufferable.

Yet it is moments like these that have you questioning why you kept them around for so long.

Niki with criminal like eyes, grabs a pillow and hits Jungwon in the face multiple times with it until it looks like he’s on the verge of suffocating him. You swivel your head away from them, you cannot be a witness to a crime you didn’t see.

“Come on! Let loose a little you need it as much as we do.” Ryujin says, walking to you and wrapping you into an embrace with an arm around your shoulders. She nuzzles her cheek against yours with a pout and you hate how your heart warms up immediately at the gesture.

“Yeah, you look tense as fuck Lilo.” Heeseung stands on your other side, his arm wraps around your waist and a bottle of soju in his other hand. Your eyes flit to it momentarily.

Instead of having an angel and a devil on your shoulders you wonder how you end up having two devils. Perhaps it was the unyielding urge to hit your head against your wall, or just the desire to walk to a mirror, steal a glance at your reflection and then watch it smash to pieces. It was the immense desire to run away. From yourself, from everything. And that’s why you end up snatching Heeseung’s bottle, chugging it down with one breath.

“Yeah! that’s my girl!” Heeseung whistles with a cheer and Ryujin turns to the music back up. It reverberates through your living room.

Out of nowhere, all your words feel too much inside of you. like your chest is so heavy and you need to unload it somehow. They come up to your throat so immensely fast there’s no way to stop them.

“I can’t believe I just fucked my boss again.” You blurt out.

You’d think that the sound of music was loud enough for them not to hear you clearly but maybe it was the same mockery that god liked to put you through every single day that manifests right now. A pregnant silence commences. Long enough for your confession to dawn on you,

Niki gasps and Jungwon tumbles off the couch with a thud loud enough for Ryujin to go check on him.

“What?!” Niki sputters, a mortified expression on his face.

“Again?” Heeseung looks at you, contrary to your brother he looks somewhat impressed. with a wiggle of his brows and a smirk tilting his lips.

“First time was at work and second time was like an hour ago.”

“Whore.” Jungwon mutters on the floor and you kick a pillow at him.

“I don’t think fucking your boss is a good idea yn.” you groan at Niki’s words.

“ugh I know!”

“Damn I wish I could fuck my boss.” Heeseung says and then there’s a heavy pause that follows.

“Your dad is your boss hee.” Ryujin replies with a disgusted frown.

It’s only a few hours later with more drinks in your system than you can count that you find yourself dancing around your living room with Heeseung. To You by Mallrat plays in the background and with his arms around your waist and yours around his neck. There’s a pleasurable buzz settling in your blood, drowning out the self-pity and hatred you were in withering in not long ago. And when he spins you around, with giggles erupting from you and a smile so big it starts hurting.

A feeling so close to peace nestles its way into you and stays for a while.

Holding on to you

Is all I want to do

The lyrics engrave themselves into your brain and even when the song is over and you’re still twirling around with Heeseung. They come back to you all night even when you’re so tired you end up passing out in the middle of your friends.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that your friends are completely insufferable.

Yet it is moments like these that make you thankful you kept them around for so long.

→ taglist : @slutforsjy @wonwoos-wineparty @nxzz-skz @piripurora @vousty

@realrintaro @slut4hee @chartrucewhore @iveivory @hearteyesforseungsung

@jooniesbears-blog @hee4lifer @pretty-bluntz @babrieeee @mandoscyare

@stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @softieluvsyou @seunghancore @chaewonshoney @chaeyunloveeee

@beommii @fuxktaekook @antonsgirlfriend @rockyhedgehog @lukeys-giggle

@arikazu @jakeyverse @not-very-slay-of-you @chlodavids @belovedsthings

@vveebee @pochamocharoll @direxila @nessas-archive

@riksaes @niniissus

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cillianhead · 1 year ago

Note

Cillian married to high libido wife

Yes yes yes yes!

Thank you for your request <3

In Your Car, I'm A Star || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, vulgar language, sex in a car, unspecified somewhat large age gap between Cillian and reader, general adult content ahead. I'd also like to warn that this is a bit wordy and rambly and probably poorly written but I hope you enjoy it anyways!

18+ Minors DNI

Insatiable little thing, you are, Cillian always said. Ever since you two had first met you couldn't keep your hands off of each other, the mental and emotional connection was there, of course, the love was real, and that made the physical contact so much better. His hands over your body, cock in your mouth, hands in your hair, you sitting in his lap... it didn't matter what you were doing, you just had to be touching him at all times.

You got married after a year spent together, and you'd go wherever he went, Cillian never wanted you to leave his side, he was madly in love with you, you were his muse, his everything. You two were devastatingly in love, two twin flames, you were meant to be together. No matter the age gap or what the public thought about you and how much younger you are than Cillian. Cillian didn't care, he just loved you for you.

Now Cillian being an older man, sometimes he can't handle your high libido. At first in your relationship, it was ridiculous how much sex you two were having, it was a constant. You'd go to work and then you'd see him and your clothes came off within a blink of an eye and you'd milk Cillian dry and then you'd still be begging for more. You've done it in every single room of your home, in his car, in a public park, and in other morally questionable places that you'd rather not discuss with anyone else but him. You've slowed down a bit but you're both at a healthy at least twice-a-day sort of thing. How could you not want to constantly ravish him? You have him all to yourself, completely wrapped around your finger... or maybe you were wrapped around his. He had learned ways to tame you like a wild horse, ways to get you to calm down like stuffing you full of his fingers, letting you ride his thigh while he worked, shoving his cock down your throat to mute your bratty requests. You always got what you wanted though... how could he ever deny you, his sweet little wife, of what she so desperately craved?

Now you were sat in an award ceremony, restless, knee bouncing up and down. A deep maroon gown was your outfit, pearls tightly clasped around your neck, you were dressed elegantly and stood out amongst the crowd, especially when you sat next to the one and only Cillian Murphy. He wore a sheer button-up, in complete black, he looked incredibly mysterious and honestly, you were ready to pounce on him like a jaguar would to its prey. Unfortunately, you were surrounded by hundreds of people, most of whom were some sort of important celebrity figure and you knew Cillian would hate to make a scene.

"Show's almost over, sweet thing," Cillian whispered in your ear, his hand slipped onto your bare thigh, in between the slit of your crimson dress. "Then we'll get outta here..." You knew he could feel your hungry eyes on him all night.

He hadn't touched you all night long- wait that's actually a lie, he'd eaten you out to settle you down a bit before you got to the venue but that wasn't enough. It never was with you. But the feeling of his fingers caressing the skin on your inner thighs made you feel like you could cum right then and there. Cillian continued to suggestively stroke your sensitive skin as the night went on. People would walk over to greet Cillian, but his hand was covered by the cloth of the table so no one could see his hand gripping onto your thigh in annoyance of having to talk to someone who wasn't you. He didn't stand up, he just remained seated, nodding along and smiling as politely as he could to this person just trying to make conversation.

As soon as you got the signal that you could leave, Cillian grabbed your wrist and pulled you protectively into his side, guiding you by your lower back out of the event and towards where he had his car. It was all too swift for you to truly process, having him push you down into the passenger seat before he himself sat in the driver's seat. You watched him as he leaned over to put the car in reverse, the way he looked back out at the road, one hand on the headrest of your seat, so focused and oh so sexy.

"Cillian..." You whined, he was driving way too slow and your home was way too far for your liking. "I need you now."

"I know," He smirked at you briefly before sticking his eyes back on the road. "Trying to get us home as fast as possible, love."

"No," You complained. "Need you. Right now."

Cillian glanced at you with an incredulous look before he swerved over to the side of the road, a bit too reckless and at this point, it didn't matter... you just needed to be fucked. It was a somewhat secluded area, a dimly lit backstreet that only the occasional passerby would walk at this hour. "Get in the back." Cillian hummed cooly, checking himself out in the rearview mirror as you slipped into the backseat, spreading your legs for him with anticipation.

"Cillian... hurry..." You whispered, he was combing through his hair, occasionally making eye contact with you through the mirror before he sighed and stepped out of the car. Casually strolling over to your side of the car. Cillian opened the car door, crawling into the backseat with you and connecting his lips with yours as his fingers trailed up your shaky legs. His touch was like a drug, you couldn't get enough of the feeling of Cillian's skin on yours, no matter how little or how much you got of it.

The kiss was wet and sloppy, tongues thrashing together, teeth biting down on each other's lips. It was like you were racing to see who could consume each other faster... harder... deeper. Cillian's hand reaches up and unzips your dress, the straps falling off your bare shoulders until he tugged it off of you completely. Naked and horny in the back of his car.

"Fucking hell," Cillian gasps out at the sight of you, jaw agape as he eyes you up and down. "What am I to do with you? Hmm? So fucking beautiful." He leans in again, attaching starving lips to the hot skin of your neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin. "I'm the luckiest man in the world." You just smiled bashfully, Cillian was incredibly affectionate, especially verbally. He always told you how he was the luckiest man in the world or how you're a goddess that needs to be worshipped. You felt like it was the other way around.

You grabbed ahold of his coat, pulling it roughly off of him. "I love you in this shirt, Cillian..." You whispered, tenderly rubbing the palm of your hand over his chest. "So pretty." He just looked at you, eyes deeply filled with a wonderful concoction of lust and love. You knew that look, you'd seen it a million times; his lips parted, panting heavily, eyebrows knitted together, eyelids hung heavy, and pupils wide. It was the look of love. A look that said 'Take me, I'm yours'.

By now, you had straddled him, pushing him up against the backseat and unzipping his pants, you wanted to keep him in his shirt, you wanted to admire the view. In the backseat of his car, you slipped his cock out of his dress pants, the dirty act turning you on even further as you stroked him slowly, getting off on teasing him.

"Stop your teasing," Cillian grunted, eyes squeezed shut as he bucked up into your fist. "I know you need me just as badly as I need you, baby."

"Mmm," You caught your lip in between your teeth, rubbing your clit on the head of his dick before slowly sliding down on him. "I wish you could always be inside me, feels so good."

"I know, honey," Cillian leaned his head into the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths as you began rocking your hips back and forth. "Ride me, baby, that's it... good girl..." He moaned loudly and desperately, hands gripping onto your hips with a sense of urgency, helping guide you back and forth on his hard cock.

You threw your head back, giving Cillian a show, tits bouncing right in front of his face and fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders. The windows fogged up and the car rocked back and forth with each rough movement you made.

"Fuckin whore," Cillian snarled, growing closer and closer to the edge himself, head hazy and eyes watching you intently. "Can't believe how fucking horny you are all the time, can never get enough of me, can you?" He tapped your cheek with two of his fingers to get you to respond.

"No, just love you so much... I want... you all the time."

"So cute," He chuckled, you hung your head low with embarrassment at him calling you 'cute'. "My pretty girl, hmm.... my angel girl, I love you." He praised. Your hands slid up your waist and groped at your tits, fingers twiddling your nipples, making you moan further. There was no doubt that if anyone were to even just casually walk by they could tell what was going on. There was no point in hiding it now.

"God... fuck..." Your eyes were squeezed shut, mewling at the way his hands held your body and the sounds of his fucked out gasps for air. "Want your cum inside me, please!"

"Y'know I'll give it to ya, sweetheart, you've just gotta go on and take it from me."

You immediately dove in and kissed him, mouths open against each other, not really kissing, just sucking in each other's air. You felt spurts of hot cum shoot up into you as you began unravelling yourself, moaning with satisfaction at the feeling of him filling you up.

"Come on, that's it," Cillian mumbled in your ear. "So good... fuckin' so good to me, baby love."

He coaxed you through your orgasm, knees giving out around him as you fully sank down on his cock that still weakly spat his seed into you. You bit down on his neck, a tear slipping down your face, probably further ruining your makeup as your cum seeped out of you.

You sat there for a little longer, panting, coming down from how hard you came. "Thank you... Cillian."

"No need to thank me," He chuckled, pressing a loving kiss to your temple before pulling you back by your hair to take a look at your tired face. "Look so pretty after you fuck me, my goodness, I'm so bloody lucky." "Oh hush," You shook your head, biting your tongue and grinning at him coyly. "You're so sweet to me."

Cillian kissed you tenderly, hands cradling your head as you showed all your love and devotion to each other in the form of a kiss. "Let's go home and rest, yeah?" Cillian hummed, you nodded as you slid off of him. In unison, you both let out your own whimpers of sensitivity.

By the time you got home, it was around midnight or a little past midnight. You both immediately went up to your shared bedroom and into the lovely en suite connected to it. You found yourself sleepily sitting in the bubble bath, back pressed up against Cillian's bare chest as he hummed a love song softly into your ear.

"Cillian." You whined, clearly drowsy but also whiny about something else.

"Hmmm?" Cillian's hands stroked your waist innocently. You knew it was innocent, he didn't intend to turn you on but it was too much for your little mind to handle... you and your loving husband... naked in the bath together... his hands on you... it couldn't be a better time in your sex-crazed mind to be horny.

"Please touch me," You whispered. "Please."

"'M already touching you, sweet girl." He whispered back to you.

"Hmph!" You whined again, acting like you were giving him the cold shoulder and pulling away from him. You liked playing hard to get. "You know what I mean."

"Such a spoiled brat," He sits up with you this time, pushing your wet hair to the side and pressing kisses to your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "You really need me again? Hmm? Your cunt is so fuckin' greedy, so cock-hungry, aren't you?" He growled, fingers slipping down and pinching your clit harshly.

"Fuck... please..." You moaned in response. "Please... I need you always, Cillian." "Fucking insatiable," Cillian groaned. "That's what you are. How is an old man like me supposed to keep up with you?"

"Not an old man..." You sighed, leaning back and resting your head on his shoulder. "Please... baby... Cillian... just need you to make me cum..."

"I can do that." He sucked a bruise onto your collarbone, slipping two fingers into your pussy.

"You're the only one for me, Cillian," You cried. "Only one who can touch me like this... only one who can make me feel this good."

"I know, love," He said smugly. "All mine, isn't that right?"

"All yours." You agreed. He kissed your jaw happily at your response.

He slipped a third finger into your hole, thumb rubbing pleasing circles on your clit. You writhed around in the hot bath, mewling like you were being murdered. Pleasure shot through you like electricity, Cillian's lips on you were too much, your mind going into overdrive as he whispered dirty things in your ear. And oh fuck, the feeling of his tongue licking up your neck quickly brought you over the edge, you spasmed pathetically, squeezing his fingers that still stroked at your g-spot. You couldn't really tell because you were already submerged in water but you were pretty sure you just squirted all over him.

"Good girl," Cillian nipped at your earlobe playfully, slipping his fingers out from your overstimulated cunt. He licked his fingers clean, moaning like a madman at the taste of your cum on his sticky fingers. "Sweet girl."

"More." You demanded in a whisper. "Want more." "'Course you do," Cillian laughed, kissing your cheek. "Let's dry off, then I'll make sweet love to you in our bed. How's that sound, Mrs. Murphy?"

"Sounds good." You hummed happily.

I'm back! I hope you enjoyed!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

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scoonsalicious · 9 months ago

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7.4 Bucky*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (hand stuff(f receiving))

Word Count: 1.3k

Previously On...: You got it on. In the woods.

A/N: Ugh, my beautiful long weekend is over. No more days off from work until Junteenth.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

“I’m gonna end up falling in love with you,” she had said to him, and Bucky could barely believe his ears. He made love to her again, under the stars, assuring her with every thrust, every kiss, every caress, that he felt the same.

After he’d taken her apart once more, he’d grabbed his discarded shirt and dipped it into the stream. Wringing out the excess water, he brought the wet cloth back and used it to gently clean her folds. He’d made such a mess of her, but the sight of his seed oozing from her core was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. It was all he could do to keep himself from bending down and using his fingers to push it all back inside of her, where it belonged, where he wanted it to always belong, from now on.

But there would be time for that, later.

For now, he helped her dress, and using the combined lights of the flashlights on their phones, they managed to collect the rest of the picnic gear and made their way out of the clearing, hand in hand, and back to the parking lot, Major leaning against his arm and occasionally letting out a contented sigh that filled Bucky’s heart.

When they reached their cars, Bucky was surprised to see Major had arrived in a pickup truck. “Not sure what kind of car I was expecting for you, sugar,” he said with a laugh, “but a pickup wasn’t it.”

With a smile, Major lovingly patted the truck’s hood. “Yeah, wasn’t my first choice, honestly, but when I started my business, I needed something that could transport shit to The WarZone from our suppliers. It’s grown on me, though. Speaking of,” she added, her face falling a little, “I should probably head home; it’s already nine o’clock, and I have to work tomorrow.”

Bucky felt his heart sink. The last thing he wanted to do was say goodnight to her. “Spend the night at the Compound with me,” he offered again, bringing his hands to her waist. “It’s closer than your place, and I don’t want to say goodbye to you just yet.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and offered his most pleading puppy dog look. “I can bring you back to your truck in the morning.”

Major sighed in feigned reluctance. “I suppose I could be a little late tomorrow,” she admitted. “I think my boss will understand. I happen to know for a fact that she’s quite fond of your dick, so she might make an exception if I tell her I was out late riding it all night.”

Bucky laughed and pulled her to his chest. God, he loved the feeling of her as she wrapped her arms around him, the way she seemed to fit perfectly into the dips and curves of his body.

“To hell with it,” he heard her mumble into his chest. “I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow.”

Bucky pulled back and looked down at her, trying hard to stifle the grin that was threatening to spread across his face. “Are you sure, sugar?” he asked her. “I don’t want you putting your business in any kind of jeopardy because I’m trying to be a bad influence.”

Major shook her head and smiled at him. “Honestly, things over there run so smoothly now, I don’t need to be as involved as I am. I just like keeping an eye on things because, well, the business is my baby, you know?” Bucky nodded, he did understand; she’d devoted so much of her life to making it a success. “So, I can afford to take a day off here and there to spend time with you,” she said.

Bucky grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. “Since you’re playing hooky and don’t need to worry about being home early,” he said, “how ‘bout we finally eat dinner? You’ve got to be starving.”

Major let out a low groan. “God, yes, please. Don’t get me wrong, I fully enjoyed our alternative activities, but damn, boy– you had me working up an appetite.”

“Gimme one minute,” Bucky said. He hauled the picnic basket into the back of Major’s truck and spread the blankets along the bed. He grasped Major by the hips and gently lifted her over the tailgate before hopping in, himself. He propped up some pillows against the back of the cab, and sat down against them, spreading his legs and motioning for Major to sit between them, with her back to his bare chest. He then rummaged through the basket and retrieved their forgotten sub sandwiches and lemonades.

While they ate, Bucky pointed out constellations to Major, telling her the stories behind the figures in the night sky. He loved how much more could be seen out here than back in the city. He’d always loved space, and Major listened to him with rapt attention, asking thoughtful and poignant questions, letting him know that she was both paying close attention to everything he said, and that she admired his interest.

“You’d make an excellent astronomer,” Major commented, after Bucky had pointed out the tiny dot that was Neptune, far off in the unfathomable distance.

“When I was a kid, that’s what I wanted to be when I grew up,” he confessed with a nostalgic smile. He’d never told anyone that before– not even Stevie. When you were a kid from Brooklyn, growing up during what would become known as The Great Depression, the idea of making a career out of looking at stars seemed so fanciful as to be almost insulting. Bucky had known there was no future in the cosmos for him, only a life of hard, manual labor, doing what he needed to do to put food on the table for his family.

Only, that never even came to fruition, either. One measly letter from Uncle Sam had ripped away all his dreams, and his reality.

“Well, it’s never too late for a career change,” Major said, her tone only half teasing. “I mean, you’re only in your early hundreds. You’ve got time.”

And now, here was Major, simultaneously both reality and dream, and when she said he could be an astronomer, she had Bucky believing it.

Once their food was finished, though, Bucky couldn’t resist sliding a hand down the waistband of Major’s jean shorts, seeking out the warmth and wetness of her folds.

“Bucky!” Major sucked in a breath as she arched her back into his chest. “Fuck!” He slid two of his flesh fingers inside of her, working them in and out at a leisurely pace with one hand, while his vibranium hand pointed out the stars of one of the smallest constellations, Delphinius.

“That’s the Dolphin,” Bucky told her as she grasped onto his forearm to support herself. “The stars aren’t very bright, but the myth is that Poseidon– doll, how can you pay attention if you keep squirming like that?” He knew she couldn’t see him, so he had no need to hide the mischievous smirk that covered his face.

“Bucky,” Major whined, and god, how Bucky loved the sound of it. He brought his lips to the crux of her neck and shoulder.

“I’m trying to teach you about the stars, doll, and your mind’s completely elsewhere,” he teased. He brought his vibranium arm down to join his flesh hand, and used it to work her clit, until Major was a crying, shaking mess in his arms.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” he assured her as she came down from her high. He made sure to hold her close to him, loving how her whole body shook with the aftershocks of her pleasure. Pleasure that he had coaxed from her.

“You are a bad boy, Bucky Barnes,” Major said with a laugh once she’d found her voice again. “And you definitely do not play fair.”

“If you think I’m bad now,” he offered with a grin as he kissed the top of her head, “just wait until you see how bad I’m going to be when I get you back to the Compound.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 2 months ago

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Wrapped In Red [Commander Fox x Fem!Reader]

Warnings and Information: When a long-time friend of yours in the Galactic Senate invited you to one of the upcoming galas, you envisioned a night of lavish apparel, drinking, dancing, and dodging the attempts of too-friendly senators. Added security had not been a part of it, but it’s non-negotiable following an attempt on your friend’s life. Fortunately, you can make the best of a bad situation by making friends with your bodyguards — Clone troopers of the Coruscant Guard, including Marshal Commander Fox himself. Second Person POV, undescribed Fem!Reader, save for the color of her dress and accessories. Reader is the friend of an unspecified senator nicknamed “Aspen”. Political assassination attempt [off-screen, more focus is on the aftermath]. Brief reference of a riot and (civilian) violence against Clones. Elements of the ‘Lady/Knight’ or ‘Bodyguard Crush’ dynamics. Forced proximity. Reference and allusion to alcohol. Narrative and stylistic use of italics. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Some use of Mando'a. Prompt is highlighted in red. Requested by @returnofthepineapple from her previous account.

Word Count: 10,817

For the past couple of years, you’ve been living a quiet life on one of Coruscant’s neighboring planets. Though you were born there, the hustle and bustle of Coruscant proved more than you could handle as you grew older. You longed for some place less choked by pollution, politics and power-mad bastards.

So, just before the outbreak of the Clone Wars, you spread your wings and left the labyrinth-like nest.

People dear to your heart still lived there, so you never left Coruscant completely behind you.

One such person—a childhood friend—you’ve managed to remain quite close with in spite of your relocation, and their involvement in the Galactic Senate. Rising through the upper echelons in the political scene to make it into a senatorial position had taken time, but the friend you knew best as Aspen had never been the type who could be easily swayed from their goals, or their sense in doing the right thing.

Thinking of you often, Aspen liked to send you invitations to some of the millions of events taking place on Coruscant at any given time. Mostly small things, like seasonal markets or something related to various hobbies and interests.

“A certain someone I know would love the concert they're holding in the entertainment district this coming Zhellday!”

“Blast… I’m going to be busy that day! But you’re the best, Aspen.”

On rare occasions, the invitations Aspen gave you were to much bigger things than crafting workshops or concerts.

The most recent of these larger invitations is to an upcoming gala being held at the very end of the month, meant to cap off the long proposal period of very important—yet divisive—bills and other legislation to the Republic. You knew from past experience this would be a very, very long month for Aspen with no shortage of headaches. They were probably ready to beg you to attend the gala if it came down to it.

It took only a short moment of thought before coming to a decision upon receiving the electronic invite; hoping to surprise them with good news, a message was left with a member of their senatorial staff.

Hey, Aspen, just thought I’d let you know I got your invitation to the upcoming gala. I know you’re busy, so you don’t need to convince me to attend. I’d be happy to come and see you. The gala sounds like fun. Already looking forward to it!

You’ve attended a few parties with Aspen in the past, but you can’t recall one of this scale or importance. There were the small fundraisers where you ate so many jogan fruit tarts together you were nearly sick. Promotional campaigns where bets were made on how many flutes of champagne Aspen’s competitors would end up sucking back before the end of the night. Public appearances where you stood beside (or in place of) your childhood friend’s family to support and celebrate the hard work they’ve put into the planet you called home for a long, long time.

Making the kind of differences Aspen hoped for in the galaxy would often be an uphill battle. You’ve regularly joked it was a good thing that they’ve always been a fan of climbing in all the time you knew them.

By the time you made it to Coruscant, less than a week before the gala, you were faced with the horrible discovery of just how close Aspen had come to falling from those lofty heights.

You’re planet-side for all of five minutes—busy wrestling your things together in the spaceport terminal—before you find yourself face-to-helmet with a pair of white-armored men. By the way they had begun marching in the direction of the baggage claim from the moment you got there and the deliberateness of their stride, you had the feeling they were not simply on patrol.

These soldiers—Clones—part of the Coruscant Guard, judging by the red paintwork, had been waiting for you.

The rest of your luggage continued to sit on the revolving conveyor belt as you spoke with the shocktroopers for the next few minutes, trying to figure out what was going on in spite of the travel-fatigue. Anyone who’s spent a significant amount of time on Coruscant has seen more than their fair share of regular commuters and far-away travelers getting stopped by terminal security forces, so that in itself is not out of the ordinary.

Getting stopped by members of the Guard, those who dealt with riots and political escorts… That was more unusual. It meant whatever was going on was pretty karkin’ serious. (You’re not in trouble, are you?) Comply. Be polite. They don’t sound angry yet when they start asking basic questions to confirm your identity.

Starting with your name and date of birth, one of the troopers brings up his datapad clipped to his utility belt to verify your answers against information in their database. The other silently gathers the rest of your baggage from the carousel the next time it comes around, preventing some petty criminal from getting their hands on whatever's inside. Between giving the troopers the requested information, a million thoughts race all at once while wondering whether or not you’ll be asked to come with them soon enough. Unless the Corries are hurting for work so badly that they’re now working spaceport security, whatever this is about is undoubtedly serious.

In a shaken voice, you try to find answers once there is a suitable lull in the questioning.

“Can I ask what this is about…? Am I in trouble?”

The trooper with the datapad in his hand turns to the other, saying nothing, but raises his shoulders and gestures with his free hand as if to say “How much do you think we can tell her?” to his partner. You grow all the more nervous as the silent exchange continues, the partner shaking his head at the first.

“Not here.” the second trooper says, his head wagging sharply to suggest it isn’t a good idea.

The first makes a hurried promise before he’s interrupted by the second. “You’re not in trouble-”

“But you’re not safe, either. We can explain more once you’re about the gunship. We need to ask you to come with us.” (Gunship? Safe? Oh fuck.) The same trooper, nodding to a bag by your feet now says “Sayber, take the duffle bag. I’ve got the suitcase.” before instructing you to follow them.

Struggling to match their militant stride, you want to do little more than shrink out of discomfort feeling hundreds of eyes trained on you as you march back the way the shocktroopers came through the crowded spaceport. Doing your best to ignore all the many faces glittering with curiosity, you instead focus on the LAAT/i emblazoned with the crest of the Guard lazily bobbing in place as it hovers over a part of the terminal’s platform.

Aside from the pilot, there are three more soldiers. Two are waiting in the craft itself; another waits on the ground, hands planted firmly on each hip.

He must be who Sayber and the second, nameless Clone now walking beside you report to, judging by the stance and differences in his armor. On his helmet, you see stylized wings painted above a black visor guard, framing the visor itself. Two ‘capes’ of flexible armor hung from his utility belt, swaying in the downdraft of the ship just behind him, and the left shoulder armor has an antenna of some kind.

If you had to guess his rank, he’s either a captain or commander. “That didn’t take long at all.” he calls to his soldiers, tone neither impressed or surprised. “Have you and Naran verified she’s who we were sent to retrieve?”

“Yes, Commander Thorn. She matches the descriptions we were given.” Sayber, the trooper on your right, replies confidently.

All the same, he and Naran show their superior the datapad, allowing him to look at the information for himself. Confirmed with the commander, you’re given the go-ahead to board. Naran and Sayber board first, one securing your luggage while the other helps you into the gunship.

As soon as you’re aboard, the commander orders the blast shields closed. The sound of which makes you wince, but being so on-edge, you’re grateful for the feeling of extra security it brings soon after. As you’re being shown an overhead handrail to use in case the inertial compensator isn’t enough to keep you from being wobblier than a newborn bantha, you’re advised not to lock your knees once the military repulsorcraft takes off.

“Flight shouldn’t be too long, but, because even the most routine escorts have surprises we have to ask: do you get airsick, ma’am?” Having met them just a short time ago, you can’t yet tell Naran and Sayber apart, but you’re pretty sure this is Naran who’s rooting through the on-board medical kit for something.

“O-oh, I-”

Your hesitation and the commander’s interruption is enough for one of them to toss an airsick bag your way, just in case. “Nothing routine about this escort, boys. We’re gonna be wrapped in red tape for a while, so we should start getting used to it.” The pilot is signaled to take off from the spaceport and begin making his way to a coded location a few moments later.

The word ‘escort’ is nothing unfamiliar to you, having gone through this song and dance one of the last times you came to support Aspen’s senatorial workings. But red tape creates enough dread to ice over your veins before it begins pooling hot and sour in your guts.

“C-can I ask what’s going on now?”

What’s happened that’s made all of this a necessity?

Naran, remembering the promise he made back at the terminal, begins to carefully explain the situation with a slight halt in his voice. Each word is chosen carefully, like perhaps he’s unsure just how much he can say, or how you might react.

“Someone—we’re not sure who—tried to end your friend Senator Aspen’s life shortly before you got to Coruscant… They’re shaken, but ultimately unharmed. We were asked to bring you to the same secure location by one of the other commanders.”

The remainder of your flight aboard the gunship goes by without another word. The troopers know this is difficult information to process, and you can’t think of a single thing to say about any of it. It’s hard to be afforded a moment of silence to reflect on any of this with the guttural drone of the engine eating up any sound below a stage whisper, but the soldiers around you do their best. It’s a small act of kindness to you.

Until you step off the gunship, this will be your last opportunity to have any kind of time to yourself before you’ll be so caught up in red tape you would practically be wearing the stuff.

Upon arrival, Sayber and Naran once again wrangle your luggage for you to speed up the process of disembarking.

The less hindrances you had the better. You needed to see Aspen. And Aspen needed to see you. Having a friendly face by your side made confronting calamity a little more bearable, someone wise once told you. (Or, maybe you read that somewhere on the holonet…) In this state of heightened adrenaline, thoughts become muddled and disjointed as Commander Thorn ushers you past several armed security guards down a long hall.

You can only imagine your friend will be in a far worse state.

“Senator Aspen is in here,” Commander Thorn explains, stopping in front of a modified blastdoor. “The two of you will be kept here until a security detail has been finalized.”

“That’s fine… Thank you, Commander Thorn.”

Commander Thorn wastes no time, waving you in ahead of him once he’s completed keying in the clearance code. Inside, you find your friend crumpled into a low multi-seater, face in their hands as the person seated on the other end of the couch appears to be explaining something either to them, or to the other armed guards posted in the corners of the panic room.

From the armor kit, you know the man is another Clone like Sayber, Naran and Commander Thorn with a singular glance. But you’re less concerned with who he is right at this moment, never having been more relieved to see your friend than you are right now.

“Once she’s here, I would like everyone to-”

“Aspen!”

The other Clone immediately falls silent as Aspen gets on their feet in a flash, all but vaulting over the caf-table in order to meet you half-way. Mutually crushing the air out of the other’s lungs in the strength of your embrace, neither of you can properly express just how grateful you are to see the other. Jumbled, rapid words give way to tears seeping into one another’s shoulders before long, so occupied with comforting each other that no attention is paid to the troopers being swapped out with Naran and Sayber once they have brought in your belongings.

In a tight, choked voice your friend begins apologizing to you once they’re calm enough to speak. “I’m so sorry that we had to meet like… like this… but it’s so, so good to see you.” Pulling away, you get a better look at their face for the first time and your heart clenches painfully. They look so scared. So deeply shaken. Yet here they are, apologizing to you for something that’s hardly their fault.

“Had to be the longest hour of my life, waiting here with the Commander for you to get to Coruscant…” Aspen continues, taking your hand to guide you to sit beside them on the multi-seater where it would be more comfortable than standing. “I wanted to talk to you. So badly. Just to hear your voice and find a little solace after- After everything.”

“I’m guessing you couldn’t?”

Your friend shakes their head no. “Not exactly. We weren’t sure if it would be safe to. I’m sor-”

It’s you who shakes their head this time before explaining why a second apology is not necessary. “Hey. I understand. The important thing was trying to keep you safe after you were almost… hurt. Or worse.” The simple fact your friend was unharmed—still living and breathing in front of you—was an incredible blessing.

“Your friend sounds like a smart woman, Senator Aspen.”

Reminded of his presence after you’ve been paid a compliment, your friend quickly begins the process of trying to compose themself in order to begin proper introductions. “Y-yes, she very much is… Commander, this is my very dear friend I was trying to tell you about earlier when explaining who your men needed to find.” The second Commander nods in polite greeting, refraining from saying anything until introductions have been finished.

“And this, my dear friend,” Aspen says in a well-practiced this-is-important tone of voice, “is Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard. I believe he’s been tasked with security after what nearly happened.”

At this point, Commander Fox has gotten to his feet and taken a look at something on Commander Thorn’s datapad before consulting his own. “That would be correct, Senator.” Holding himself with purpose, this second commander standing beside Thorn differs from him in more ways than just the color-inversion of his chest armor, and the additional Corrie Crimson on his armor alone. “I am here by order of the Chancellor to create a strong security detail for you, and your friend, in light of the attempt on your life almost an hour ago.” His voice, while not too different from the Clones you’ve met today thus far, had strong tonal qualities of duty and seriousness that commanded a great deal of attention from everyone in the room.

You’ll ask about “that” detail in just a moment. Right now, you’re more surprised there’s no fear or unease when he says he’s here to enact the Chancellor’s will. This comes naturally to him.

“Sorry, I just want to make sure I heard you correctly: you said by order of the Chancellor?”

Nodding stiffly, Commander Fox confirms his orders. “Yes ma’am. As the Marshal Commander, I’ve been asked by Chancellor Palpatine to personally ensure your safety at all times until it is no longer deemed necessary. While he understands the upcoming gala expects to see many high-profile guests, he was rather disturbed to hear what had nearly happened to Senator Aspen, and insisted upon a constant security presence.”

“I may or may not have tried politely refusing the Chancellor’s offer.” Aspen explains to you, chuckling somewhat shamefully. “And he was right to insist upon my refusal; it was fifteen minutes after the attack and I certainly wasn’t thinking clearly… I… Well, I think Commander Fox or Thorn has the pictures.”

Nodding less stiffly than before, Commander Fox takes one of the datapads and shows you a collection of the holo-stills and frames taken from nearby security feeds of the destruction left by the attack. While you look at the horrible state of Aspen’s senatorial office, the main window broken with thick shards of transparisteel strewn across the floor, your friend explains that they managed to escape the attack unharmed by sheer, dumb luck.

“I survived because I tripped, if you can believe it.”

Blaster marks have burned the back of Aspen’s chair and several spots in the floor. The main desk, made from a much heavier, more-solid material, is riddled with blaster burn in comparison. While you’re not an expert by any means, the window pane’s shatter pattern suggests that the weapon used by the would-be assassin was likely high-powered, or of uncommon caliber.

“It was just a split second before the first shot. After that, I hid in front of the desk as best as I could until members of the Coruscant Guard showed up. All that Corrie Crimson surging into my office must have scared them off because the firing stopped almost as soon as the Guard got there.”

Dumb luck. Dumb luck saved your friend before the Corries came to protect them.

Facing the whole emotional gamut as you view these stills, Commander Fox puts the datapad away the very second you cannot stand to see more, shaking your head no, no, no.

Outrage and disgust blooms in your chest, acidic and bitter-hot. You had too many questions to ask all at once. Crime scene analysts had cordoned off Aspen’s office, currently combing over everything for the most minute of clues. Would they be able to figure out who could have possibly wanted to kill your friend? Did anyone see who it was before they got away?

What was the motivation?

Uncertain of the answers to the other questions, Aspen could only offer partial answers as to ‘why’ someone might have tried to kill them with much hand-wringing.

On one of the planets the Republic has been hoping to change the neutrality status of, there had been a riot almost a month ago now that’s still so tightly wrapped up in red tape largely in efforts to keep details away from the press while investigations are still on-going. Because of that, Aspen can’t say who they believe started the riot, or for what reason. But they can tell you that several Clones were nearly beaten to death as a result, and the rioters responsible have been charged with destruction of government property for the time being.

Aspen was spearheading an effort to re-file those charges under a different crime that they believe more accurately reflects the rioters’ intentions that day. Attempted murder. While the effort has seen a lot of support in the Chambers, there are a fair number of senators still dragging their feet on making a decision.

A small handful of influential senators have had a far less positive reception to this effort the longer Aspen has encouraged these changes. Matters that were becoming complicated when some of them were beginning to react in ways that suggested hostility have now become even more complicated with the introduction of a botched assassination.

Planning for the gala has gotten a whole lot more complicated as well. If it’s even going to happen at all…

“Did the Chancellor say anything about cancelling the gala at the end of the week?”

“Too many high-profile guests coming from across the galaxy to change anything at this point, I imagine. Some of them have been making preparations for half a year, or more.” Aspen explains, fruitlessly massaging their temples over the thought of it. “Great galaxies, I do not envy whoever is in charge of organizing security for that mess…”

Commander Thorn politely clears his throat. “Will likely be me, now that Commander Fox is overseeing your security, Senator.” He quickly adds, “Or, it could be Commander Thire. We’ll get it sorted.” after sharing a fleeting glance with his fellow commander.

Aspen winces sympathetically.

“I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be, Senator.” Commander Thorn says. When he speaks again, his voice is a little softer than before, careful sympathy lacing every spoken word. “We’re sorry that your plans to get ready for the gala are going to have to be changed.”

“How soon will that be?” Aspen wonders.

“Once Commander Fox has your security detail finalized.”

Your friend makes a low sound in their throat, smiling grimly. “Very soon then, I imagine… May I ask what we can expect, Commander Fox?”

In a calm and deliberate voice, Commander Fox explains that as investigations are being conducted, he and other members of the Guard are going to be accompanying the two of you everywhere leading up to the gala. They’ll be your security as well as your escort force; you’re going to be spending a lot of time under their watchful eyes and ready hands.

So if there are any reservations, now is the time to say something.

You look to your friend and make a quiet offer after considering the Commander’s words. “You’re the one who invited me here, so I’ll follow your lead, Aspen.” You’ve known each other long enough to trust their judgement. If it was decided it would be safest for you to go home, then you would take a rain check on this visit and come back to Coruscant another time.

While you’re prepared not to create more trouble for everyone, Aspen’s selfless nature rears its sweet head even in the wake of an attack. Turning to Commander Fox, who stands straight-backed as he is patiently awaiting a verdict before the two of you, your friend asks one final question of him.

“I know plans will change, but will the security detail mean I can still help my friend prepare for the gala, Commander?”

Commander Fox takes less than a moment to think before deciding that would be a reasonable use of the service. “If that’s what you wish, Senator.” He nods politely not only to Aspen, but to you as well, you notice. A small gesture of professionalism, as well as respect.

“Then we accept.” Aspen says, sealing your shared fate for the rest of the week leading up to the gala.

Though the two of you have only just met, the feeling that you’ll come to like this man has already begun to spark.

From the moment Commander Fox put the security detail into action, you decided for yourself that you would make the most of this situation and make conscientious efforts to get to know everyone making up this task force better going forward. Not only would it be polite, but it would make it easier to remain in close-quarters with these men for a long period of time when they were no longer strangers.

The full team consisted of two parts: Clones who had been hand-picked to be stationed with Commander Fox full-time, and those who would be rotating through the force on an as-needed basis. That meant there would likely be more than a few soldiers you would get to know very well by the end of the team’s lifespan.

Maybe even become friends.

Already, you and your friend were making great progress getting to know Naran and Sayber in particular. These two soldiers—who were part of the permanent assignment—are not merely patrol partners like you had initially assumed when you first met them. They explained they were batchmates, meaning they had been created and trained together at the same time on the world known as Kamino, out in Wild Space.

Naran and Sayber completed their training six months ago; stationed on Coruscant for five. It explains why their armor looks so new, and why the paint lacks much chipping, fading or transferring. They’re young, and have only begun breaking it in. There’s a term Clones like to use that pretty much means the same thing as “rookie”.

“We’re not exactly a couple of ‘Shinies’ anymore, but we’re still fairly inexperienced compared to other brothers in the Guard… I’m not exactly sure why Commander Fox assigned us permanently.” Sayber confesses to you in a moment of quiet.

Commanders Fox and Thorn are busy, following protocol to secure the room where you and Aspen will be sleeping; the batchmates are supposed to be focused on keeping their eyes on the two of you in the meantime, but Sayber’s curiosity is stronger than his worry over being “caught” bothering you by his superiors.

Something that Naran quietly fumes with frustration about. (“You’re going to get yourself in trouble, di’kut…”) He much prefers to stay on task and engage only when addressed. It might take more time before he opens up to the two of you compared to his brother and patrol partner, who happily does more than enough talking for the two of them.

You can expect to meet more of the Guard starting tomorrow; the rest of the day will likely be focused on getting the two of you settled in before any of the pre-gala preparations and errands can be conducted. Some will have to be done separately. Others can be done together, such as the shopping for a dress (on Aspen’s insistence), given that they are performed during set hours.

And they will always involve an escort of no less than two troopers.

You will not be permitted to wander around Coruscant, alone, at any given time.

“Dammit. Sounds like getting some Hyellian musical noodles around two in the morning is out of the question, then.” you remark softly in jest during the first review of the safety plan once the Commanders have completed their protocol, shrugging animatedly in an oh well fashion. Won’t be the end of the galaxy.

His review disrupted, Commander Fox’s dark T-shaped visor lifts from the screen and fixes itself upon you, quietly regarding you over the top of the datapad in his free hand.

The thought that you just karked up strikes you in an instant.

Thinking you’re being serious, Fox speaks seriously in turn. “I was unaware this was something I needed to account for. Forgive me, ma’am.” Your hammering heart skips a beat rather uncomfortably as he begins to pull up the keyboard on the device’s HUD, and your face grows hot with embarrassment.

“No, I-! I was only making a joke. I’m sorry, Commander, I shouldn’t have.”

Asking him to accommodate a silly little tradition of yours every time you made the trip to Triple Zero would create more work for everyone. Taking unnecessary risks. It would be selfish.

Fortunately, you won’t have to worry about making fewer jokes just because Commander Fox has a stronger no-nonsense personality than you might be accustomed to for very long. Members of his own Guard have a way of softening the tension to keep things from getting quite so abrasive.

“Grizzer and I could always make that run for you, ma’am.” There to listen in on the review, the ARF trooper that was assigned to guard the perimeter of the ‘safe house’ by the name of Sergeant Hound drops the lead to the massiff in question after issuing a command word. “Su!” The quadrupedal reptilian settles on their hindquarters, long tongue lolling between dagger-sharp teeth.

“It’ll help her earn a turbodog once this is all said and done. Tradition of ours, for the big jobs.”

Maker: it will take some getting used to being called or considered part of a “big job” like this.

After a long moment, you decide to accept. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” Since he was kind enough to offer, you make sure to give Hound an especially grateful nod.

Commander Fox adds the offer to the approved actions he’s compiled once the exchange has finished, and moves swiftly on. There has been a lot of ground covered, and he intends to cover more before someone will be sent to collect that night’s dinner order. It’s evident enough that he’s a serious and hard-working man. He would have to be, seeing as he’s the Marshal Commander appointed to lead the Coruscant Guard. so…

So it comes as little surprise that any offer or invitation for a breather, a single moment off his feet has been turned down time and time again as the afternoon bleeds into the evening. Even in the securest of spaces, Commander Fox turns down reprieve and refreshment with the same four words.

“No thank you,” either followed by Senator or ma’am.

Your kindness refuses to falter in the face of his stoicism, but you’re smart enough to recognize when to let it go at the same time.

“Okay. May I offer it to Naran and Sayber instead, then?”

Dinner had been sourced from 79’s in the entertainment district; largely finger foods made in outrageous portion sizes, meant to be shared between large groups. Aspen had ordered a slider for each of you, and a basket of protato wedges to share. There had been a slight mix-up, and the two of you ended up with a third slider and more than double the wedges that you could possibly hope to eat by yourselves. Trying to sort out the error was met with the offer to go ahead and keep the food as they were pretty slammed tonight.

“If you wish, ma’am.” Fox replies, voice as politely disinterested as before. “I’m certain they won’t object.”

True to form, the batchmates eagerly unseal their helmets before gratefully accepting the offered food, granted unspoken permission by their commander. It’s the first time you see any of the Clones’ faces since the start of all this unfortunate excitement. “Thank you, sir. And thank you ma’am!” Sayber exclaims. His broad grin brings out a dimple in the tanned left cheek, adding to how he looks far, far too young for this armor.

He and Naran carry the food to the only other table in the room in order to eat, wasting no time in coming up with a way to halve the slider and wedges between them. While his men eat, Commander Fox discreetly consults the datapad he has clipped to the utility belt from which his dark kama hangs. What he’s reading is a mystery, but you could probably assume it had to do with either you, Aspen, or his shocktroopers. Maybe it was the safety plan and security detail for tomorrow. Maybe it was unrelated.

Regardless, this seems to be the only sort of reprieve he allows himself. Once he’s finished, the tablet returns to the Commander’s hip and he reassumes position.

His posture is meticulous, yet somehow almost elegant. Hands folded behind his back and chest high, the crimson commander does not budge so much as an inch from his post in the time it takes Naran and Sayber to put everything away. Only once they clean up and reseal their helmets will Commander Fox drop this extra rigidity.

Fox’s earlier refusal now appears more purposeful than before when this time it is Naran who thanks you and his superior for the food. The shocktrooper’s words are met with a “Don’t mention it.” so softly spoken, it would be hard (but perhaps not impossible) to mistake it for a command.

From this singular display of momentary tenderness, Fox has told you more about himself that he might realize: if you hope to have a better chance of befriending the commander, how his men are taken care of will likely be very important over the coming days.

Following that first night on Coruscant, you fell into a routine within a short couple of days.

Waking up an hour (sometimes more) before Commander Fox arrived with the day’s security detail, you would quietly prepare for the day ahead of you just to have a small bit of time to yourself. Just you and Aspen. Together, you’d take this opportunity to have more intimate conversations without your second shadows in red and white armor present; to reflect on the days behind you.

And puzzle out a curious pattern beginning to develop…

It was hardly surprising that there would be the most to say of Commander Fox out of all the Corries. You spent the most time with him. Not only was Fox the lynchpin to your collective safety, but the only time he was ever away from your side (save for using the ‘fresher) was to allow each of you to sleep for the night.

He was by far the most reserved member of the Corries you’ve had the pleasure of meeting; the most aloof and strictly professional, all for good reason. Not only was he dealing with the Chancellor’s orders for a very serious situation, there was so much red tape for him to navigate through on a daily basis. It wouldn’t feel right to either of you to ask Commander Fox to behave in a more-friendly manner for the sake of protecting your own feelings.

But more recently he was starting to become more warm with you, no longer just his soldiers.

You’ve seen how he is with the younger soldiers in particular, like Naran and Sayber. Reminding them again and again to not tense their shoulders quite so much. Answering their many what-if questions. Encouraging the two of them to play a bit of holochess against you or the senator in his stead.

Now Commander Fox was thanking you for your offers when turning down the invitation to take a short break or have something to eat. He was no longer passively listening to conversations you would have with the other Clones, but joining in on the rare occasion. You were no longer just ‘Senator Aspen’s friend’ or simply ‘ma’am’ when speaking of you, or being addressed.

When Commander Fox began to use your name, that’s when things became a little more interesting.

Aspen started to gently tease you after that, suspecting you were becoming somewhat charmed by the crimson commander. The gala was in two days. Your friend had promised to help you buy a formal dress here on Coruscant in order to save you luggage space. Neither of you certainly expected to have an audience, and Aspen wanted to make sure that you’d be okay with potentially being seen by Fox and a dozen or more Clones in a fancy dress or two.

Yes, the Guard was always, always very respectful of you both, but perhaps it might be a bit embarrassing. Or feel strange. Maybe you would feel self-conscious in front of Fox in particular… Something they promised was perfectly normal while you were busy getting ready together this morning as you waited for Fox and the Guard to arrive.

“You’re saying that you think I have a crush on the commander?”

You take a brief pause from tidying things on your side of the room, wondering whether or not you’d heard your friend correctly. Commander Fox was by and large what you might consider a “strong and silent” type of man, slow to let someone into their comfort zone, teasing the other person along inch by inch. Did Aspen really think that’s what was going on with you? That you were intrigued by some kind of thrilling mystery in interacting with someone like that?

“Well… Sort of.” Aspen admits with a soft laugh. “This kind of thing happens a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s Baby’s First Bodyguard, or you’re a seasoned professional when it comes to dealing with armed escorts. A lot of senators and diplomats tend to form some kind of feeling for the people who are there to protect them.”

You try to mask your doubt with a joking accusation. “Are you trying to feed me banthashit right now?” Is this truly as common as Aspen says it is, or are they trying to help you feel better in their typical selfless fashion?

Sensing your doubt, Aspen promises they are telling the truth. “It really does happen all the time, sweetheart. It’s happened to me too! You know I wouldn’t lie about that. And you know I’m not going to judge you for feeling things for the commander, or possibly having a crush, either, right?” Before you can answer, you hear the sound of a distant LAAT/i, followed by several soldiers speaking at once.

You’re going to have to wrap this up, quick. “Of course. I’ve known you for a long time, Aspen. I trust you.” They’ve always been a good friend to you; there’s never been a reason for doubt or distrust.

Briskly getting up, Aspen helps you tidy and put away the last of your things not a moment too soon. Just as everything has been put away, Commander Fox makes himself known with four firm raps on the other side of the door. Here forty-five minutes exactly before the first of the boutiques is set to open, as discussed.

The usual pleasantries are exchanged after Aspen has gone to answer the door. The ‘good morning’s and asking if the two of you slept well. Asking if there was anything either of you needed before joining the others back at the gunship and getting on your way.

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you. Nice to see you, Commander.”

Perhaps surprised by your choice of greeting, Commander Fox has a brief moment of pause before he’s able to reply. “You as well, ma’am. Very well. No need to inform our pilot of anything, then. We can be on our way.” Nearly positive you’re not imagining it, while still rather factual, there seems to be more warmth in Fox’s voice this morning.

He’s still all-business, encouraging everyone not to waste any time getting to the gunship, but now his tone is less stern and terse compared to the days before. He almost sounds… friendlier. Maybe Fox just needed three days to thaw out before warming up to you. Could be that he’s in a good mood because his men are in a great one this morning, most of them comfortable enough around you by now to talk about last night’s boloball victory in whispers.

Whatever the case may be, it makes you a little less nervous about the prospect of going shopping with such a large security detail.

Commander Fox’s brightened demeanor hardly changes for anything.

Even Sayber can’t ruin it by forgetting his training and speaking out with excitement while you and Aspen steadily shop around the first of the formal boutiques for a suitable dress. His reason for doing so was more than forgivable: right around the time you began reaching for a gown in a sort of pomegranate red, the young shocktrooper cried out “HAH! Eat your heart out, Police Inspector Dan Tivo! I knew the Corries would find a lead in the investigation before him!”, much to the disturbance of the other patrons.

There would be much apologizing to do—Sayber for breaking protocol and to the shop for causing any additional inconveniences—before this would start to become the point where things really began looking up.

The red tape would not yet loosen itself from you, but with any luck it should soon begin to lift.

Whether you believed it was a curious coincidence or not, you decided to go with the red gown you had been reaching for around the time news broke of the lead in the investigation. By cleverly pairing it with a few ivory accessories, you curated an overall image that would come close to matching with much of the Coruscant Guard.

This way, you could quietly sort of “mark” the time spent in their company in the week leading up the gala without outright wearing any one Clone’s personal markings, or the iconography that belonged to both the Guard and the Senate.

You also can’t pretend it was no small relief to have so many of these big decisions taken care of so quickly, or all at the same shop in a busy fashion district. What had been planned to take nearly all day was completed in the span of less than two hours.

And the next two days went by in a feverish blur with Commander Fox working harder than ever to truly make sure your security at the formal event would be nothing less than ironclad.

His men even claimed he was aiming to be better than beskar: creating plans for every possible situation and even going so far as to form redundancies. Mapping out where and when you would arrive at the gala venue. Choosing who would be watching over you and Aspen separately, and who would be watching both of you. How he can continue to take care of your needs. Until the time comes and the suspect behind the botched killing has been caught, Commander Fox has sworn to remain at your service, no matter how trivial the request.

Or how foolish you feel to ask.

With hours to go and anxieties rising, there are times that involving him in the hustle-and-bustle process of getting dressed up becomes simply unavoidable. With every instance, your gratitude for this man only continues to grow stronger than before.

Dropped an earring under the dresser and it’s too far for you to reach? Naran and Sayber will need to lend him a hand, lifting the furniture aside so he can search for it on his hands and knees.

Hands shaking too much, and the clasp on your necklace giving you trouble? He’ll help you put it on - he only asks that you hold your hair out of the way for him.

Turning over the string of delicate Castilon pearls, you move to stand in front of the commander. The most straight-forward way to secure the necklace will be to turn your back to Fox and allow him to fit it from behind. “Thank you, Commander. I can’t seem to get my nerves under control at the moment...” you explain, grateful he won’t see the soft flush breaking across your face as his dexterous fingers latch and unlatch the tiny set of claw clasps with relative ease.

In his voice you hear the very same tenderness he imparts to the youngest of his brothers as he softly encourages you to relax. By the time you take a deep breath and count to five ‘battleship’s, he’ll have this taken care of. You’re going to be just fine. Ordinarily you would be, were it not for the electric ripple in your skin every time you feel the smooth material of his raven-dark gloves brush against you.

Understanding the tensing under each feather-light touch is only a reflex, the Marshal Commander casually remarks that you’ll be hard-pressed to find a senator, dignitary or diplomat that isn’t a bit on edge or nervous about the gala. Fox says it in hopes of it serving to soothe you, rather than make you more nervous.

“There you are,” he concludes once he’s finished securing the three-strand necklace. You allow him to check the matching earrings to make certain they won’t come loose for good measure. “I admit I may not be the best man when it comes to these kinds of things, but I give it my best effort.”

Fetching your ivory clutch, you can at last turn to thank him once Commander Fox reports the ivory accessories are both secure. “Thank you, Commander. Fortunately I’m not looking for the very best, only a bit of help. I would say that it’s hardly a contest that you’ve been among the very best in providing an immense amount of help this week.” Your favorite pair of shocktroopers share in Aspen’s giggling amusement as Commander Fox maintains his professionalism rather than fully internalizing the compliment you’ve tried to pay him.

“Thank you, ma’am: but I don’t believe I can take all the credit. My men have shown around-the-clock commitment to this assignment that I couldn’t be more proud of.”

With a boisterous laugh, Sayber bravely advises his superior officer on what to say. “Now’s not the time to be all modest and humble, sir! No buts – just tell her thank you!” He’s close enough to still being considered a Shiny that Sayber can get away with speaking to a brother of higher ranking in a semi-teasing manner, and he knows it.

Commander Fox knows it too. “You’re right, you’re right…” he relents, beginning to fix parts of his armor in a bid to stall for more time. Starting with the vambraces, he straightens them out like he’s adjusting a pair of cufflinks. “Thank you, ma’am. It is my hope that both you and Senator Aspen have felt nothing less than complete assurance in the security force I have tirelessly maintained.”

Finding it satisfactory, Sayber quickly concludes with “That’s better, sir!” after you and your friend confirm there have been no concerns in your armed escorts at any given point.

There isn’t much time you can afford to waste, having to take alternative transport that would be kinder on any formalwear than a gunship. While helping you board the other transport, Naran politely comments on the care you’ve put into your appearance for tonight and offers his hope that you have a nice time. Doing so now just in case he doesn’t get a chance later. The same sentiment is then offered to Aspen as they are helped aboard after you.

Fuck. You’re really gonna miss these guys when all of this is over.

You’ll miss Naran and Sayber’s playful bickering, the way they shout “Ulyc, di’kut!” at each other when the other does something foolish. You’ll miss the pilots who have flown you over the more beautiful parts of the upper-city when there’s been time to kill; like Umate and Monument Plaza, even some of your old haunts from before.

Miss the games of fetch with Grizzer to reward her for a good job, the meals that have been shared, and the stories of how these boys got their names.

But most of all, you’ll miss the crimson commander.

It didn’t matter that he was rather aloof and distant. How he kept things almost strictly business. That he’s never once taken off his helmet in front of you. Only ever nodding, never showing you if his smile dimpled his left cheek like most of his brothers. Or that he never told you how he came by “Fox” for his name. Whether it had been one he claimed, or something he earned.

Because that wouldn’t be what you’d miss Commander Fox for.

You’d miss him for never drawing more attention to himself than he had to, shying from such spotlights in the interest of giving them to his brothers instead. Miss him for the unwavering politeness he’s had for you, treating you no differently than he would for another galactic senator, or even the Chancellor.

All this security, all this red, had been the most reassuring feeling you’ve had all week. And it won’t be easy to say goodbye, to any of it.

Or to Commander Fox.

Between the sound of spirited chatter, ceaseless pop-and-chop of photographers’ camera shutters and lively, swelling music, entering the formal venue before the official start of the celebration proves easily-overwhelming near-instantaneously.

Getting here early offers you time to acclimate. Elation and excitement should eventually find you, but there will be time to find somewhere to cool off, if necessary. It also serves as a chance for the Chancellor to visit with Aspen, hoping to speak and hear how they’ve been since Commander Fox had been appointed for protection, as well as to ask about his performance.

The visit is kept brief, but your friend stresses the shared satisfaction you have in all Fox—and the rest of the Guard for that matter—has done for you before agreeing to speak more privately and at-length the following morning. The Chancellor is not here to detract from the hopeful enjoyment of the occasion for either of you; soon enough you are left free to enjoy the entertainment and pursue the available catering.

It became apparent most of the music played tonight came from Naboo, much like the Chancellor - written by some of her people’s most respected and well-known composers. And much of the food was extravagant, tables showcasing what your own credits could never hope to see with plate after plate of hors d’oeuvres beyond your ability to even name. Same went for the drinks when you were unable to locate any cards or signage.

The Commander quickly proves rather knowledgeable when you blindly select a sparkling crystal flute, scrutinizing the bubbling contents with a puzzling expression after it fails recognition by smell alone.

“What’s this…?”

“Prized champagne provided by Pantora, ma’am. It’s recently proved rather popular.” Fox explains, hands moving from carefully held at his side to folded neatly behind his back as he approaches closer to the table.

“And what about the tall and skinny glass, or the one with a short stem and large bowl?”

An erroneously-named Mantell mixer in the highball glass, supplied from a different planet in the Mid Rim. The snifter is a robust brandy reportedly of Wayyl origin. Commander Fox can only tell you what he’s heard when it comes to if they are any good, refraining from making any kind of decision for you or presuming what you would like. There are other drinks reported to be stationed throughout the venue, if none of them appear to be to your liking. If you would prefer something non-alcoholic, he knows where the sparkling cider can be found.

You decide you’ll be starting off safe with the cider, for the time being. Less decision fatigue than coming up with an unfamiliar, strong drink to try. He again helps with identifying the human-suitable foods for you and Aspen to sample. That’s when you realize Fox is utilizing sensors and scanners built into his ‘bucket’ rather than strictly being knowledgeable upon a sharp pause in his explanation.

“The cured meat is supposed to pair best with… no, wait. Damn artificial intelligence pulled up a recipe blog.”

And rather than pressuring you to engage every instance, Aspen encourages you to go explore the venue instead of listening to them catch up with many of their fellow senators. Knowing who you’ll likely prefer for company (but might be too bashful to openly say), they give you their “blessing” to take Fox as your escort in the meantime.

“Why don’t you go exploring for a while, dear friend? Just so I don’t bore you; I promise I’ll let you know if Senator Amidala or Chuchi are able to stop by before I catch up with you so you can decide if you want to say hello. I’ll ask Naran and Sayber to stay with me in the meantime. Perhaps the Marshal Commander can go with you… If he doesn’t mind?”

The commander offers a cordial nod prior to replying. “Not at all, Senator Aspen.” He would be happy to, in fact. And though he will not be leading you, Fox is even offering to take you by the arm.

You can attribute it to his work ethic and find it applicable etiquette for such a grand event. Considering there is both a chivalrous and protective tone to such a gesture, this is not a measure of control through the imbalance of a power dynamic. He is not here to dictate where you are permitted to go.

Simply put, he’s here with no other intentions but to accompany you no matter where you go, and to comment as necessary as he listens to whatever you have to say. So when Commander Fox finds you quiet after some time, he surprises you by asking what’s on your mind.

“Thought you would be making a small amount of commentary, ma’am. Something weighing on your thoughts?”

Blinking in surprise, you chew over the thought of how honest you should be. “Well… there is something.” Unable to see through that impassible visor and faceplate, the hope of seeing this particular Clone’s face flickers anew.

“S-someone…” comes the clarification.

“Senator Aspen?”

It’s less of a risk for him to hazard this guess, but it doesn’t make the mark.

“No. No, not my friend.”

After a pregnant pause, you confess that it’s him that weighs on your thoughts when he does not ask. “I can’t… I can’t get you out of my mind.” Your reasons are innumerable, and strange even to yourself. You’re not sure what explanation you can give Commander Fox that would likely not be found comforting, innocent or even sane.

So you expect him to politely pull away. To put up walls of professionalism stronger than before. To kindly but firmly establish some boundaries. (Hell: it would hurt, but you could understand if he didn’t do it so kindly.) If you were slowly stoking the fires to a potential friendship, you might’ve just gone and done the one thing to completely stomp it out.

And by hearing yourself say it, it sounds far more romantic than you might have intended it to. “Wait, sorry- I… I meant that very generally.” Attempting to clarify this now feels like a weak excuse to cover up that you’re backpedaling, but it’ll keep you up at night far longer if you don’t at least try.

Commander Fox, surprisingly, does not suggest he is the least bit perturbed. Not by your admission. Not by your apology. Not even by the way you try to create distance from him yourself and begin to anxiously attempt to pull your arm free.

An earnest “I believe you.” is all that is needed to stop you in your tracks. The gala, now well in full-swing, feels as though it is slowing down around the two of you as you feel very foolish – just staring at the red-armored commander. “I know what that sounded like. But I believe you.” he continues, now with insistence.

“You-? You do?”

Starting with the soft use of your name, he again promises that he does - even going on to say why.

“I’ve spent all week watching how you treat and interact with my brothers. Hearing how you speak to my men. And you’re always kind. You make honest efforts to remember their names and have a friendly word to say. Always expressing appropriate gratitude. All of it shows that you care about them, that you’re a good person.

“And good people are often honest people.”

The work Commander Fox does for the Chancellor, the Senate, all of Coruscant… it’s thankless. What work he is thanked for is done with insincerity, often disingenuous and callous and empty. Senators like Aspen are a rarity. Ordinary people, people like you, are the most likely to thank him for his work outside of his bonds within the GAR.

But you’re different even among ordinary people. You have truly meant your thanks each and every time he’s done what’s been asked of him. And you wouldn’t yet know it, but it has led to Commander Fox becoming so hopelessly wrapped around your little finger in the reddest thread in hopes of tasting such genuine kindness. Such a response couldn’t be conditioned or trained out of him.

He may be a Clone, but he was not a perfect copy. Not of Jango Fett. Not of any of his brothers. It was part of that Factor H as described by Fett more than a decade ago to the Kaminoan cloners, likely before the commander’s own creation.

‘H’ for ‘Human’. And humans… they have a base, instinctual need for forming connections with the people around them. It’s why isolation proves so detrimental. As a soldier, it was an unspoken expectation to simply not acknowledge those kinds of consequences to his formative years.

Created in a high-tech petri dish. Decanted from a tube. Together forged by fire with a living sea of brothers. Getting planted on the singular-most crowded planet in this entire kriffing galaxy, where his failure to protect the heart of the Republic meant having to listen to more reports of dying vode.

But tonight, he’s here, thinking of asking to dance in all of his blood-red armor with one of the most beautiful women at the gala. Having lost a complete sense of elapsing time, the two of you had been standing just on the inside to a respectably-sized dance floor when the venue appeared to be cueing up for either the first, or another of the largest shared dances.

There’s no time to be coy about asking if you want to join your friend waiting off to the side, now that they and his shocktroopers have found the two of you. It appeared Aspen intended to have joined you, but it was now too late to step into the designated floorspace. There would still be time to step out.

“Would you like to join your friend?” Fox politely offers.

Historically, you and Aspen had platonically partaken in these duo-dances together owing to your closeness and long-stand friendship. Usually at some point during the night if Aspen was preoccupied with other senatorial attendees, but often at the first available opportunity. Dare you ask for another of their blessings to break a long-standing tradition?

“Aspen, I think I-”

“Go. There’ll be other dances!” Aspen urges, interrupting. They’re smiling, a promising sign you had worried for nothing.

Hopeful, Commander Fox extends his hand out to you. A quiet offering. An implied invitation. If you’re going to accept, it has to be soon. “Another dance, then.” you promise to your friend, carefully trading off items like the ivory clutch in order to free up your hands.

Naran suggests a crucial change before you can take the commander’s outstretched hand and join him further into the showfloor.

“Sir! Your helmet!”

“Right, right.”

This song with a famously long lead-in allows for the ordinarily simple unsealing and removal of the commander’s headgear to transform into something a bit more preformative, if rather hurried. With a polite doffing befitting of the high-class nature of the event, Fox removes the recently-polished helmet and allows you to see his face for the very first time since meeting earlier that week. It is then directly taken by Naran away from the dance floor, surrendered to his care and subsequently forgotten not long after.

Following Fox, he leads you slightly deeper into the dancing crowd with a rhetorical “Shall we, ma’am?” where the two of you assume the appropriate starting position just before the lead-in concludes, and the dance number finally commences.

As a ballroom piece common to the Core Worlds, you’re given more than enough time to study the charming face of your dance partner as the two of you step through the poised and elegant choreography.

While there is perhaps some truth to the erroneous adage “If you see one Clone’s face, you’ve seen them all!”, you are wholly committed to determining what little traits set him apart from his brothers while you have the chance. And kindly, the commander allows you to do so, encourages you to do so.

“Do I look like you imagined?”

Mostly yes. But also, no.

While he had the same round ala to his nose, there was faint scarring across the bridge you hadn’t yet seen in any of his brothers. (You would find others; one cutting into the arch of his right brow, and a freshly-pinked nick that tucked under his jaw on the left.) Fox’s eyes were the same, soulful brown; with an additional intensity that was hard to completely identify. A soft five-o-clock shadow along his jaw, now that you hadn’t expected. Or the touches of gray blending out in the dark waves and tight curls of his hair.

You admit you’re starting to wish he’d taken off his helmet sooner, even though he was only doing his job… A long-suffering job that allowed you to even be here to begin with. If it wasn’t for him, your long visit home just to see Aspen would never have happened. Not the way it did. Without him, without the Guard, your friend would have asked you to take the first shuttle returning to your new home.

You can’t even begin to fathom how you could possibly thank him enough for everything they’ve done to protect Aspen and get you to this point.

“That won’t be necessary,” Fox pledges, both his voice and his smile tender. The dimpling in his left cheek is the most pronounced amongst any of the Guardsmen. A golden warmth that softens the watchful depths in his eyes. All of it brightens your heart with euphoria, pulse already keeping time to the soaring peaks of the strings’ music.

When the song calls for those assuming the position of the dance’s “gentlemen” to pull their partner close, the Marshal Commander fits you so perfectly against his armor in order to make himself heard.

His voice becomes softer—fonder—in the delicate shell of your ear.

“But I know you’ll probably try...”

As the music begins the winding-down, Fox’s vambrace begins to squeal - an abrupt, demanding tone disrupting the pleasant, vulnerable moment between you. Needing to answer it, you assist him by depressing the instructed buttons after lowering the volume per his instructions.

“CC-4477 to Commander Fox! We have the suspect behind Senator Aspen’s attempted assassination in our custody!”

Fox does not reply right away, but rather he eyes the open comlink with a degree of great pride. But there is also great reluctance. After everything you’ve told him, after everything he’s told you, the long-shot he’s taken in asking to dance with you amidst all this formality and decorum, he has to leave now?

“Well done, Thire. Tell Commander Thorn-”

No.

No, maybe just this once, he can get away with not answering a summons instantaneously. His duty may be to the Republic, but man of his honor his duty is also still to you. As of now, he is still charged with protecting you and the senator. It becomes socially acceptable to leave the gala without staining one’s reputation fifteen minutes from now, after these large, shared dances. His men can handle the suspect until then.

Fox will not allow your standing to suffer now simply because of him.

“Sir?”

“Tell Thorn I’m still wrapped up pretty tight here. Might take fifteen minutes to disentangle her and Senator Aspen from the gala. Maybe more.” Fox’s focused expression changes to one of warmth when the word “her” parts his lips, while his voice retains its authoritative tone.

There’s a long silence on the other end of the comm before Thire comes up with a reply.

“Understood, Commander. Thire out.”

Breathless and head light, you’re reeling with relief and elation that they’ve captured their suspect. This is the beginning of the end of Aspen’s nightmare. Your nightmare. But where there is joy, there too comes sorrow, knowing your time in Commander Fox’s company is coming to an end. Maybe not tonight, maybe not in the morning. But soon enough, you will part ways and return to your regular lives…

“I can’t believe they got the guy… Thank the stars, it’s finally over. If we need to leave so you can-”

“No, mesh’la,” Commander Fox interrupts you before his voice turns almost pleading. The song may now be over, but there is still music that can be danced to. Still time that he can spend with you. “Let me be a selfish man for once… Fifteen minutes is all I ask.”

Maybe fifteen minutes… can be a good place to start.

Everything will still be there after fifteen minutes. The suspect, his men, the senator… but the clock will start to run out with you after fifteen minutes. And he’s not ready for that.

“Okay. Fifteen minutes. We’ll… work out what comes after that.”

When you’ve spent most of your service dealing with red tape, it’s going to take more than fifteen minutes to unwrap all of it.

So you’ll make those minutes a very good place to start…

Thank you for making a request for my 200 follower event, Pina! Ended up longer than I initially anticipated even after everything I cut out of it, but I hope you enjoyed it! I apologize for the unexpected delays, so I hope this was well worth the extra time it took me to write it in order for you to read it! And in case anyone is curious why I chose the name "Aspen" for the name of our senator friend here, I took inspiration from the Greek word for shield, 'aspis'. I thought it felt fitting for a story focused around Fox working hard to protect even a complete stranger, being the dutiful and brave man he is. ❤️

Taglist: @callsign-denmark @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit

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#frostfics #Wrapped In Red #frosts 200 terrific followers event #request fic #thepineapplereturns #star wars #tcw #the clone wars #tcw fanfic #the clone wars fanfic #clone wars fanfiction #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x fem!reader #fox x reader #fox x fem!reader #x reader #clone oc: naran #clone oc: sayber

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petals2fish · 2 months ago

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The Golden Globes Incident

James Potter cannot get a decent interview in with Lily Evans. It's mostly because any time they get together it's all banter and wit, which leaves the couple no time for seriousness. one shot. Victoria on Tumblr asked me to re-create the Andrew Garfield interview at the golden globes but with jily, and this is the result. READ ON A03 (and yes I do plan on writing the chicken shop date @joyseuphoria for this to add onto)

“I heard Lily Evans is going to be here.” Peter, James’ cameraman, said sneakily as he set up his tripod, “you going to act like an idiot again?”

“James always acts like an idiot when Lily Evans is around.” Marlene, James’ producer, said with a tinge of annoyance, “and the reason I am here and not in the studio.”

James shot his producer a sheepish grin, “you act as if you have better things to do with your time.”

Marlene waved the cards in her hands at James, “I brought cue cards, in the hopes I can keep you on topic around the woman, although after the last interview I highly doubt it.”

“I can be professional.” James argued as he straightened his bow tie, “she’s the one who got me off topic last time.”

“You guys spent twenty minutes comparing cows to cats,” Marlene deadpanned, “forgive me for lacking faith in you.”

“We don’t even know if she’s truly going to be available for interview.” James reminded them, “or if she’s even here.”

The screams from the fans across the road announced her presence first. People begging for her to look their way, to come over, and to acknowledge their existence. James would honestly do the same for her attention, had done so, back when he was nothing but a footballer and she was a child star trying to live a normal life. Going to American high school and being two of the three brits on site had placed them both in similar crowds, but nothing had ever come of them but friendship.

But this wasn’t high school, and now they were basically strangers, acquaintances at best. James had done his football thing, retired early due to a poor shoulder, and became an entertainment host for ABC. Lily had propelled from her childhood sitcom on Disney into an impressive acting career that had landed her at the Golden Globes that night. They saw each other around, mostly at these events, but every time he was reminded just how much he missed seeing her every day in high school.

Then she appeared and James felt as if his breath left his lungs at the sight of her.

There she was, walking over to him with the biggest grin plastered on her face. Lily Evans’ cheeks were shining with glitter painted on like freckles, and her green eyes were shadowed with golden dust. She wore a stunning dress that made her pale skin look tanner than usual, or she’d just gotten back from an ocean-based vacation.

God, she was just beautiful.

She wasn’t going to come over to him though, no, the last time they’d seen each other had probably scared her off for good. He turned towards the cameraman, pretending to be interested in a nonexistent conversation. He tried to look nonchalant. He didn’t dare look at her until after he was sure she’d passed by. He couldn’t take rejection, not from her.

“James.”

Lily was standing directly beside him and hadn’t passed him by. James turned halfway and looked at her. She stood eye to eye with him since she wore heels. She was even more goddess like up close and personal. James looked back at his coworkers for confirmation that he could start an interview with her. Even though he never managed to talk to her normally, in any situation.

Peter nodded at him, and Marlene made a motion with her hand that meant the camera was rolling and they wanted him to interview her. Right, James had to do his job.

Lily, however, gave an awkward wave to the camera and turned her back to the camera. James touched her shoulder with the microphone, and she cackled, turning back to face him, and allowing the camera to angle down her body for dress shots.

“Looking lovely.” His voice cracked like a twelve-year-old boy, bloody hell.

“Oh, you are interested in talking to me?” She pestered him.

“Of course.”

“I just saw this…” Lily gave an imitation awkward smile and turned away from James, pretending to be him five seconds ago when he’d seen her coming and hadn’t known whether to run away or die on the spot.

“No, I didn’t do that!” He sniggered off his awkwardness, she always gets him laughing when she’s around.

“You did!” Lily pressed a fresh manicured hand to her red tainted mouth, “you’re like a capybara in the wild”

“No!” He felt like he wanted the red carpet to swallow him up now that he knew she’d seen how awkward he had been at the sight of her. “I was smiling!”

“Good.” Lily brushed a strand of her auburn hair back, “I thought you were going to pretend you didn’t know me.”

“I was smiling! I was like…” his smile was strained because he was aware of everyone within fifteen feet watching them. “Happy to see you!”

“It was not! It was this…” Lily did a perfect imitation of James’ side eye. He had to laugh at that, because she looked preposterous, which meant he’d been even more stupid looking.

“No, I was happy!” He cried, touching her shoulder, and forcing her to bring her eyes from her feet to his face.

There was a playful fire in her eyes that made his stomach twist into knots as they stared each other down. It was if she were daring him to give in and make a move, declaring her mutual attraction. James tilted the corners of his mouth into a quizzical expression as she stuffed her hands into the folds of her gown.

“Can we start over?” Lily and James both looked over to the camera man and his producer, who currently had her arms crossed and had interrupted their little reunion. “This isn’t usable material.”

“Right,” James cleared his throat and then pointed the microphone at the actress. “Professional.”

Lily bent down so her mouth pressed into his microphone with a sly little, “hi.”

He couldn’t resist matching her smile with one of his own smoldering grins as he brought the microphone back to his lips to respond to her just a coyly. “Hi.”

The sparks flying between them were undeniable. She looked beyond happy to be standing in his shadow. There were no words in the English language that could describe how he was looking at her, at least none he could remember.

He started to ask a question, but Lily bent back, face ecstatic and she winked at him as she said, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Her red hair was also dusted with gold, making her look as if she were hand painted by an artist. James would love for one afternoon to sit and paint the way her smile lifted her cheeks. He’d love to sketch every feature to perfection. He’d taste her skin with his—nope wrong time to think about that.

The last time they had run into each other had also been an awards show. He’d complimented her cat, asked her if she liked pizza, and made some off-the-wall comment about her leg hair. This time, for the golden globes, he ought to be more refined. There was something about Lily Evans that brought out his worst and best parts. The last time they’d met, he hadn’t gotten even a reel of good footage to use. It had all been banter and wit.

That’s what led James to start with a polite, mildly flirtatious, “we must stop meeting like this.”

Lily snorted, brushing off his claim with a wave of her hand, “I only ever want to see you.”

His voice dropped an octave. “What?”

He cannot comprehend what Lily just said out loud, thankfully he could rewind the tape a million times when he got back to the studio. Meanwhile, Lily was still talking like a mile a minute.

“At an, on like a—“ And then Lily saw James’ shocked expression and she quickly covered his hand on the mic. James felt like he might feint as he was now holding her bloody hand. “No, that’s not the end of—“

“What?” James asked again, tugging her up and closer to him.

Lily paused, as if mesmerized by him, before shaking herself from her stupor and adding quickly, “—the sentence! That’s not the end of my sentence!”

James licked his lips, “Care to clarify?”

“I only ever want to see you in this kind of sort of situations.” She seemed to wince, but James didn’t know if his eyes were able to do anything beyond gape at her, let alone deduce her actions fairly. “I mean, I like to see you in these situations.”

“What about other situations?” He asked boldly, or stupidly,

“Not--” Lily’s face was tomato red as she glanced at her publicist who nodded thoroughly at her for whatever answer she was about to give. James arched a brow. So, Lily was being babysat that night. He wondered if it was due to him, and the last viral interview they’d had. Lily turned her eyes back on James and said without an ounce of truth, “not interested.”

James clicked his tongue with feigned disappointment. “I was gonna invite you to my birthday party!”

Lily’s publicist hit herself with her notepad when Lily grabbed James’ elbow and inhaled, “wait, when’s your birthday party?”

“March.” James said, “all our friends will be there.”

“We have mutual friends?” Lily giggled, fucking giggled, in his direction.

She was flirting.

She was flirting so much that everyone watching was picturing what he might say next.

“Oh loads.” James lied. “We miss each other on all the big outings.”

“Well then I should invite you to my birthday.” Lily said, “how rude of me!”

“What astrological sign are you?” James asked, seeing Marlene throw her que cards on the ground in frustration as he once again pulled the interview into a mad direction.

“I’m an Aquarius,” she said, “and yours is Aries.”

“How’d you…” he cut himself off and glanced over his shoulder at the camera crew literally gaping at them, speechless. He would hate himself forever if he didn’t be wholly honest with her now. Screw Marlene and her cue cards. “Did you know that if you have a sun, that’s the same as the sun sign of someone else…”

Lily grew worried by how serious he had become, “is it not good?”

“Nah,” he leaned into her space again, feeling quite courageous. “it’s good.”

They were compatible without all the astrological signals. Hell, he had been attracted to Lily from the first second he saw her walking the hallways of their old school. Everyone had known he’d had a crush on her, everyone but Lily. He had been determined to take her out, but it had always been the right girl at the wrong time. He hoped the timing was finally right.

“Oh, so it’s good that we share a sun or a moon?” She rocked in her heels, “well that’s interesting.”

“Why?” He stepped into her with a cool smirk, his knees brushing the edges of her puffy gown. “Is that an issue?”

“Well because, I don’t…I don’t think we should explore this.” She said faintly, but her eyes weren’t leaving his, almost like she was begging him to just kiss her already.

“Okay, well, I’m not even asking to explore it.” He resisted the urge to tuck her red hair behind her ear as it tickled her sparkling cheek.

“I know, but I’m just like really kind of…” Lily’s voice trailed off as looked at James like she wanted to push him against the nearest wall and find out just how compatible they could be.

He wouldn’t argue, and told her as much with a clever arch of his brow and a seducing brush of his teeth on his lower lip.

“Okay,” Marlene, his producer, retorted boisterously from beside the camera, “we need to do an actual interview you two!”

Lily pretended to not look flustered as she stepped back from James a bit. “Whoops, sorry, he’s just so into me.”

“I’m sorry,” James tried not to flush red and he casually brushed Lily’s wrist with two fingers. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” She said, motioning at all of him like he hadn’t been joking with her. “I’m scared of what it could turn into.”

Holy shit.

Was she being serious?

Was she being serious and not joking right now?

James’ heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Ugh, okay.” James scratched his head, unsure of what to say because Lily Evans was having a crisis on camera in front of him, about him.

“And I’m not ready for that kinda thing.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to anyone else. “it’s not you, I just am not ready to really dig into that, right?”

“It would be too much,” he deduced, offering her an out that he didn’t really want to give.

“I’m not ready for it.” Lily confirmed, but she confirmed it a little too hastily as she glanced at her publicist who gave her a thumbs up.

Something was keeping her from bluntly asking him out, and that something was her publicist. James wondered if they had some other plan for her romantic life, a marketing relationship to get her more screen time. James doubted Lily wanted that because she acted like she wanted him instead.

“Oh okay,” James placed his hand on his chest, “well, I am ready whenever you are.”

“Wait.” Lily froze in place, her eyes widening with astonishment at his admittance. “Fuck.”

James realized he had thrown her off and quickly tried to backtrack. “You’re nominated tonight, congratulations.”

“Thank you very much.” Lily still looked like she was sweating, she kept glancing at her publicist who seemed at a loss for words or advice for her client.

James couldn’t remember the questions he had prepared. He felt like a dunce standing in front of her. He willed his brain to come up with something. “You have, I feel like you have an affinity to playing religious characters.”

“Are you serious?” Lily’s face cooled down as she cracked another tickled smile. “That’s what you want to talk about? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to ask a serious question?” she argued, “this sounds like you pulled it out of your arse because you forgot what you were really going to ask me.”

James shrugged, “I mean if you don’t want me to interview you—”

Lily took a deep breath in through her nose and then let it out. “You aren’t going to ask any serious questions?”

“Fresh out, sadly.” He admitted, winking at her.

“I knew you would do this!” She hit him with her little Prada bag.

“Ouch,” James gripped his arm dramatically making Lily roll her eyes.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t try acting after football.” She baited him, loving the banter just as much as he did.

James glared down at her, “I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent actor.”

“Hey! Focus!” The producer called to them both. “Please for the love of God, focus!”

“Sorry Marley,” James shot his producer a grin, “old friends—you know the deal.”

“No I don’t know,” Marlene snarled, “but I do know this isn’t an interview!”

Lily grinned sheepishly at James when he looked back at her for confirmation that they were both being yelled at, “No. Go on then. Let’s see what we can do. Let’s see if we can do it.”

Was she talking about them?

Or the bloody question he still hasn’t made up?

“You seem to have an affinity…” he bit his lip, and she let lose a bubble of laughter, “to playing…”

Just then a man, an actor, in a black tux ruined any semblance of an attempt at a normal conversation. He pushed between James and Lily, and the camera, cutting them both off from the camera pointed in their direction. His bodyguard followed him, also blocking the camera.

James’ face fell. “Oh sorry.” He shouted after them sarcastically, “just in the middle of an interview here!”

Lily noticed James’ frustration and started yelling after their retreating backs too. “Yeah, go ahead. Cut in front you fucking bastards!” Then Lily looked at James warily. “Wait, are we live?”

“Kind of?” James said, having to kneel over because he was laughing so hard at her ‘fucking bastards’ comment. “Holy shit you’re hilarious Evans.”

Lily stared laughing too, and they leaned into each other as they cracked up over the situation they had found themselves in.

“Please ask your fucking question.” Lily said while still laughing, wiping her eye, removing some of the glitter from under her eye. “Before we’re rudely interrupted again.”

“You have an affinity for playing religious characters.” James continued, slowing down his breath as his laughter died. “I feel like you’re always playing a religious woman in some way.”

Lily put a hand on her hip and tilted it right. “That’s not a question,”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” He adjusted his glasses on his nose and then very cheekily added, “Why?”

Lily burst into laughter again and walked back a few steps, holding her face as her shoulders shook. The producer, the camera man, and Lily’s handler were all shouting at them now. James knew they were on borrowed time, and about to be separated for their nutty antics on the carpet.

“Wait, we can do this,” James motioned for Lily to come back over, “tell me your favorite food.”

Lily broke down with laughter again, doubling over in front of the camera this time. Her dress shook, looking like a waterfall as it vibrated against her skin. James brushed his fingers through his hair, chuckling, as she placed her lips near the mic, he was still holding it out between them.

“I’ll tell you my least favorite food.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” She started listed several foods.

James glanced over her shoulder when Sirius Black did bunny ears behind Lily without her noticing. Unfortunately, James didn’t look back at her quickly enough because she caught his interest moved elsewhere.

“You just looked over my shoulder. Is it someone more important?” Lily glanced back and spotted Sirius bounding away like a troublesome toddler. “Ah, yes, my costar.”

“Yeah, Sirius Black.” James joked, “can we like wrap this up because I need to speak to him about your terrible interview skills.”

Lily pretended to talk into a mic attached to her ear, “SB is coming in. I better bounce.”

James said speedily, “can I get your autograph before you go?”

“Wait this feels like a trap.” Lily said as he took a pen and paper from his pocket, balancing the mic on the crook of his elbow. ”Is this a trap?”

“No.” James said, “not a trap, just sign it.”

“I’m not going to read what it says.” She dipped the ink against the page and started writing with great big curly letters.

“It says…”

“I’m not reading it.” She repeated, handing the paper and pen back to James, “I won’t.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, “but full disclosure, it’s a best friend’s certificate.”

“Well then call me later bestie,” she winked as she was walked away, or rather, was pushed away by her exasperated publicist. “Bye James.”

James glanced down at the paper.

She had signed it with two hearts.

And her cell phone number.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jily fic #jily fanfiction #jple

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glader13 · 1 year ago

Text

Playing Dangerous

Leon Kennedy x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, p in v (18 and up)

Inspiration

“Fucking dick!” you shouted, staring at the video, “Fucking asshole!”

You were lounging in your lace (very see-through) nightgown at your boyfriend’s, ex-boyfriend’s, mansion when you saw the secretive video. He was away on a business trip and you were finally off the road from touring. The two of you haven’t seen each other in months, due to your music career and his company being the CEO.

But that didn’t get in the way of your love, at least that’s what you thought. The long phone calls where you would talk for hours and then the calls where you did more than talk, meant nothing to him. All the flowers he sent before each show were there, filling your dressing room with its sickly sweet scent. You should’ve known it was going downhill when he brought his assistant to your lunch date, and you should’ve known something was off from the way she lazily regarded you, how she sat next to him. She walked in a manner as if he were hers. Perhaps at that time, he probably was. Every time you called him from halfway across the country, she was there in bed with him, or sucking him off as he called you his “little singer”.

You throw your phone, staring at the ceiling through blurred eyes, angry that you’re hurting after ignoring the signs. He’s supposed to be coming home late tonight, going to the office to look over some paperwork, but you knew that he was with that bitch. Or, she was with him at the office, being in your bent-over position on his desk. “Fuck,” you say again, thinking of the dinner that you cooked, the cake that you’re baking. Hell, you’re even wearing a new lingerie set, a pretty dark red against your skin. Despite the hurt, you continued watching, seeing him sit her down, and plunge his face in between her legs.

The video ended shortly after, leaving you trying to rationalize why. She was definitely more attractive than you, much happier to lean on him. She definitely tried to see everything from his perspective, but the most damning thing was that she was always there and you weren’t. That alone was all he needed to cheat. Finally, your sadness gave way to anger, eating you like a fire. Slashing tires, and breaking items can only do so much, so you decide to hit him where it hurts. Since he loves her so much, he can live with her.

So, you fell asleep as your cake was baking, causing you to forget about it. As you were sleeping, you felt incredibly warm, waking up to nothing but smoke. You barely made it out, but thank goodness you were there alone. That’s the story you would tell, you decided staring at the flames. Watching them claw at the night sky as if trying to reach for the stars. The sound of sirens made you jump from your seat on the ground. An officer, a young one, jumped out of the car, his eyes widening seeing the flames. He spoke into his radio as he ran over to you, taking you by the waist to lead you away from the fire. From this angle, he looked akin to a puppy, with bright and big ocean eyes, and lips that gave you the softest smile, reassuring you that everything will be fine. His tenderness almost scared you, it felt so foreign, and then you realized why, his features were never that soft with you.

He opened the car door, seating you inside. He placed his jacket over you, “You okay, Miss?”

“Just a little shaken,” you say looking at the fire.

“Okay good,” he gave you a smile that weakened your heart, “Better to be shaken than burned.”

“I’ll be right back,” he began to walk toward the fire, causing you to take his hand.

“Officer ..,” you saw his badge, “Officer Kennedy, it’s dangerous, and no one else was inside, just me.”

He nodded, walking off again to talk on his radio. He then returned to you, his eyes taking your body briefly before he pulled out a small notebook. “Thank you for being concerned,” he says.

“What are you talking about Officer Kennedy?” you asked, pulling his jacket up, it was just so comforting, feeling right on you.

“About the fire,” he smiled, still making you weak, “But danger is my job, I keep people safe. Also, please call me Leon.”

“Okay Leon, I’m y/n l/n,” you say, and when he repeated your name it was heaven itself. Another sure sign that your desires were reaching for the stars like the flames.

He then asked you questions about the fire, when did it start and how? You kept your story, though you felt bad whenever you would meet his angel eyes. He asked you why you were here and if you lived here. You told him that you were cooking for your partner, and seeing his face drop with slouched shoulders wanted you to make it clear that he is now your ex. After the questioning, he leaned against the cop car, staring at the fire, his fingers constantly moving.

The silence allowed you to get another good look at him, noticing his slim yet muscular frame. Blonde-brown hair that was blowing in the wind. You mumbled how you felt so much safer with him and he dropped his head, running his hand through his hair as he mumbled thanks. So cute, you thought feeling your emotions run ahead of you.

You two continued to sit in a comfortable silence, as you played with the ends of your nightgown. As you were doing that, you noticed Leon stealing glances, which you let slide at first, feeling a dangerous spark from those eyes. Then you felt the states become longer and bolder, Leon finally noticing that the nightgown is see-through, revealing the lingerie.

“Is everything okay Leon?” you say, “Oh! My nightgown, I’ll cover it.”

“You don’t have to,” his eyes widened, becoming visibly ill, “I mean it’s up to you. Shit,” he sighs, “It looks nice.

“The nightgown or the lingerie?” you laugh, causing his face to match the flames. Then you got an idea, “Let’s switch places.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“My turn to be the officer,” was all you said as you forced him on the seat.

“So, Mr. Kennedy,” you pulled out your phone as if you were an interviewer, “Why did you join the RPD?”

He stared at you smiling as he playfully shook his head, “I knew that I wanted to protect people ever since I was young. I mean in my school years, I always stood up to bullies who were huge compared to me.”

“Quite the hero,” you say, thinking that he’s perfect, “But why this city, this department?”

“I love Raccoon City,” he began, his eyes finally resting on yours, confidence in his voice, “But this city needs work, and I want to help it, and all communities in it,” he chuckled, “I just want to protect innocent people.”

“Including poor damsels like me?” you tease.

At that Leon looked at your body again, now having a better view of you. He swallowed hard, before mumbling yes miss. You could feel him mentally removing the nightgown revealing the lacey lingerie material that shows off your chest. The underwear was just as equally thin, with straps that connected to a lace piece wrapped around your thighs. This was supposed to be for your ex, but maybe Leon will enjoy it instead.

“Do you usually work so late and alone?” you asked, ignoring how his hands were resting over his crotch though your smile was light.

“Um … no. I just started,” he struggled for words, “First night alone .. Fresh from training.”

“Your girl must be worried then,” you say, smile now gone with the realization, that you’ll be no better than your ex, “Sorry for keeping you so late,” you managed to laugh pointing at the fire.

“There’s no girl,” he blurts out, “At least … there isn’t now. Been like that for two years.”

His desire is evident now in those stormy eyes. Giving you the confidence to get closer to him, inches from his face. His lips were so soft up close, and you fought the urge to kiss him right there, “Have you ever thought about dating a singer?” you were closer now, scarcely feeling his breathing, “Would you date a singer officer?”

“I’m guessing you don’t have a partner,” he says and you nod. The air between the two of you is finally clear.

He pulls you onto his lap, shamelessly taking off the nightgown. His stare gave you goosebumps in the fire’s heat and his light kiss on your neck nearly caused you to come undone. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes against your neck.

You shakily breathe his name as he continues to kiss your neck, nipping as he goes lower to your chest. His hands weren’t idle, both finding your chest and kneading your chest, squeezing your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. His lips finally found yours, crashing into you like a hurricane. The feel of his tongue against yours was powerful as you began to become aware of, only concerning yourself with all things Leon. The fire, your ex, everything all faded away by Leon’s hands, by his kiss. It was just him and you, and all you wanted was to fade into him wholly.

You let your hands palm at his pants, clenching around nothing as you felt him getting hard under your fingers. Feeling impatient, you undid the buckles and pulled his boxers down. His cock came out, angry and already leaking, causing your heart to tumble at the sight seeing how large he was.

“Please,” Leon croaked out, and you knew what he wanted, what he needed.

You nodded, causing Leon to move your underwear to the side, exposing your dripping pussy. You then got over him, sinking down. He groaned feeling you around him, his hands digging into your sides. He then smirked, touching the side of your face, and tracing his fingers over your lips, “Are you just going to sit there and look pretty? Or are you going to move that body of yours?”

So, you did as he said causing a beautiful sound to fall from his mouth. As you grind your hips against him, chasing your high by crashing down on him. You threw your head back, feeling him come up and meet you as you crashed down. He hit all the right places, filling you just right by hitting your sweet spot. Your mouth was only able to form his name, repeating it like a sacred prayer. You then looked down at him, causing impossibly more butterflies in your stomach. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was slightly open, whispering jumbled words of praise.

You touched your clit, rubbing desperate circles and feeling the pleasure build up like a bomb. The extra sensation caused you to clench around him even tighter, your name dripping in honey coming from his mouth.

“Le … Leon,” you whined feeling him move your finger.

He placed your finger in his mouth, his tongue swirling over it. He was drunk on your taste, on you, hazy eyes filled with desire. His eyes were dark with it, giving the impression that they did not belong to him. But they focused on you, saw you, and you can swear that you think you’re falling in love. He held you down, rubbing new circles on that same sensitive area, all the while thrusting up. Your moans filled the police car as you grind on his dick, against his finger.

“Leon … Leon more,” you begged, fucking yourself against him, “More please,” the bomb was getting ready to explode. The knot in your stomach coming undone.

He obliged, making the circles on your clit harder, thrusting up into you harder and faster. You became sloppy at first, losing somewhat of a rhythm of grinding into him as your body began to shake, your legs jello. Next thing you knew, a white-hot pleasure erupted in you, engulfing you like a flame as you came on his dick. But he wasn’t done with you. He kept on slamming into your abused hole, the overstimulation causing you to try to get out of his grip but he was too strong. Or, maybe you just didn’t want to leave. Now he was chasing his high, thanking you for being good, for still being tight. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t talk. Your mind was in a haze, dumb off of his cock. You came again, another cry coming from your mouth, which Leon called beautiful.

Leon’s movements began to falter and stutter, signaling that he was close. He sat up, pulling you into a deep kiss as he came, some of it spilling out of you. The two of you finally pulled apart, your pants filling the comfortable silence. You moved some hair that was sticking to his forehead, and he gave another tender kiss, full of promise. He wraps a jacket around you, holding you against him. You don’t know why, or what convicted you to talk. It could’ve been the intimate moment that you shared or his calming heartbeat, but you did. “Do you ever think about her?” you asked, “Do you miss her?”

You felt him shift and tense, but he still held you. “I did think about her a lot. I mean, I saw her as mine, despite us being on and off, I knew that I loved her. So when she left, I was blindsided and angry,” he sighed, “I tried to hate her, but I couldn’t. I did miss her, but … I think I found something better.”

“I was angry,” you confessed, “I lied, Leon. He cheated and I couldn’t think,” you felt tears, “I was so angry, I started the fire. I just wanted him to feel my pain, especially because I did nothing but love him.”

“But this fire didn’t stop my anger,” you say, finally looking at him, “Leon, I don’t want to be angry.”

“Well,” he squeezed your hand, “It’s a good thing that you don’t have to.”

You smiled, feeling safety in his gaze, “But I lied to a cop and committed arson. You can arrest me.”

He caressed the side of your face again, “But you fell asleep, remember?” he says, “You forgot the cake.”

Your eyes widened as you giggled, kissing him, “Of course officer, I was just so sleepy.”

Soon the two of you were standing side by side watching the firefighters put out the remaining flames. They didn’t notice how his hand held yours, how he pulled you close. “I would like to do this again, I mean,” he facepalmed, “I would like to ask you on a date, make it an all-day thing, breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” he smiled, “I want to know my singer more, then after all that we can do this again.”

You kissed his cheek, “I would love that Leon.”

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