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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

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April Fools

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer needs to one up Reader just as he’s about to loose a prank war

A/N: I’m kicking things off for my 30 fics in 30 days for April with this fic inspired by April Fools day- lol this is a much better version compared to what I have experienced in the past with this holiday 😂 @90spumkin there’s a few specific lines in here that are totally inspired by your cowboy Spencer fic lol 😂 I’d like to hear all y’all’s thoughts so far or just drop me any type of anon here- ask me anything -my requests are also open!! Hope y’all enjoy reading ☺️

Warnings: 18+, Dom Spencer (not as harsh as in other fics of mine), Fingering, Edging, Public Sex, Sex with a hidden motive (there are some real feelings there 😉 plus reader acknowledges and knows the hidden motives)

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.4K

When you walked into the bullpen it was dead silent. If you dropped a pin you’d be able to hear it, even with the carpeted floors. You crept as quietly as you could, afraid that someone might jump out to scare you. It was not as if you had gotten in late today, you were actually cutting it rather close this morning.

Your fear of being submitted to a jump scare so early in the morning wasn’t as irrational. Today was the day that everything was going to come to an either a glorious defeat or a momentous victory. A two week long bet was tipping heavily in your favor at the final hours, you had to be careful to not let your hold over Spencer weaken in these last moments.

Today was April 1st- a day like any other to most people, but not to you and not to Spencer. It had all started when you both had begun trying to do little pranks on each other in the months leading up to the bet. If you asked anyone on the team they’d say it started when you replaced his normal standard deck of playing cards with a new set that had awkward pictures of Spencer you had accumulated over the years taped on them to represent each of the numbers and faces. Your personal favorite was the photos you had chosen for the Queens- one of Spencer looking rather regal, eyes cast downwards and with his hands crossed and a big lip pout while sitting at his desk obviously disproving of whatever Derek had said (who was also in the picture)

The team would’ve definitely said it had started there, but that was the first one that they had seen. The first one had actually been when Spencer had switched around the contacts in your phone while you weren’t looking while you had been hanging out with him. To be fair it had been in retaliation to you playfully teasing him about being a technophobe, all’s fair in love and war you had to admit.

And, whether you admitted to him or not, you did love him. This little bet that you set a few weeks ago had only strengthened your feelings. It involved setting a prank for each other, alternating every other day for two weeks until April Fools day, then the team would judge and figure out who one. You can definitely thank Morgan for that brilliant idea as he had spontaneously suggested it after your card prank on Spencer, though you bet he had been thinking about it for a while. Over the course of two weeks you had to delve into the mind of Spencer, really getting to know what would get under his skin, what would be the perfect prank for him.

“I hope you know what you got yourself into Spencer.” He had smirked back at me when you said that right after confirming your bet. You had delved into researching stuff, trying to figure out pranks that would be more personalized to Spencer rather than the ones everyone would see passed around. Eventually you landed on an idea for your last prank that was simple, yet the perfect way to get under Spencer’s skin. It was so easy you kicked yourself a little for not figuring it out before.

Apparently replacing the sugar Spencer specifically brought in for himself with salt was a step too far according to him. The glare that he had fixed on you after he had spit out his coffee onto his cardigan made you shiver, you knew you were going to be in for something big today.

Plus today was the aforementioned holiday that inspired the bet in the first place, you kind of wished you had gotten the chance to have the last laugh. You were still crossing your fingers and toes in hopes that it wouldn’t compare to your coffee prank.

Your eyes locked on the lone figure standing in the maze of desks, Spencer. It felt as if you were both ready at high noon for a duel to see who drew their gun fastest. Though, comparatively there was a distinct lack of cowboy hats and the sun was down to low for a proper duel. That didn’t stop your mind from wandering to thinking about him in a cowboy hat, he’d definitely look good. you’d have to get him one some day or maybe put a snake in a cowboy boot if another prank war was to ever crop up.

“Where is everybody?” You asked, though you knew that Spencer had probably sent them off elsewhere, you had done the same thing earlier when you needed to convince him that he had come in on his day off.

“I may have bribed them a bit to be elsewhere right now.” He spoke with a smirk that would have seemed foreign to you until you guys had started this. Now it was a staple for him whenever you saw him, going right along with his cardigan and tie to complete his look. There was no complaint from you, Spencer acting slightly cocky just before you were about to get pranked on oddly made you get hot and bothered easier than you’d like to admit.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you crossed your arms in front of you, probably a vain attempt to protect yourself from whatever was coming. Your voice came out a little shaky, “What for?”

“Just wanted to talk to you- privately…” He skated around your question, not really giving you any definitive answer. Though, you hadn’t really expected him to lay out his whole plan, that would just be counterproductive. There was a slight pause in conversation, you were about to break it with your own response when he added,“You know I’ve always found you desirable, Y/N…”

The simple teasing conversation that you had been having with him suddenly pivoted. The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out, leaving you gasping. Even if some part of this led to a prank, you knew Spencer wouldn’t play with your feelings like that. What was most likely happening is that he was using this confession to also pull a fast one on you. His deep brown eyes piercing into your own told you that he was telling the truth in that regard, plus if earlier in the bet was any indication, he wasn’t that good of a liar.

“This wasn’t what I thought you’d be talking to me in private about but- I’ve always found you desirable too...” You admitted with a gulp, pressing your weight into the edge of your desk almost sitting on it.

Your full weight pushed to sit fully on top of your desk, undoubtedly crinkling some important papers underneath when he stepped forward to close the large gap between the two of you. The tension was thick around you now with only two sentences spoken, both full of truth.

“Do you want me as much as I want you?” His lips were now so close to yours his breath was projected onto your lips.

“Yes.” You confirmed, with no hesitation. Honestly, you wouldn’t care if there was some sort of prank he was going to play on you soon, you knew that what he had said didn’t just apply to now. That was the part that mattered to you.

His lips surged forward to meet yours, letting all the tension that had been rising boil over. It was everything you had imagined and more, his lips just as soft and pillowy as they had been in your dreams.

When he pulled your skirt up roughly to expose your bottom half to him you came up off of the edge of the desk slightly, then being pushed back down once you were partially exposed before him. You squeaked into his mouth in shock of how fast this was escalating, but didn’t protest any further, wanting to see where he was going with this. You were so glad that he had gotten the team to leave the bullpen for a while, this would be a hard situation to explain. Being out in the open didn’t make you more nervous though, it excited you to know that someone could be around the corner with only the desk dividers hiding your exposed bottom half.

He didn’t even bother to push your panties down to your knees or ankles. He just pulled them aside to gain access to your now positively dripping hole. You hadn’t even thought to question how this tied into his prank, like it inevitably did, yet. You just wanted more of him, in any way you could get him.

His eyes were fixated on your dripping entrance, seemingly mesmerized by finally being able to see it. The awe in his eyes certainly did make you feel adored by him, but your desire made you feel impatient, “Spencer, do something or I’ll take care of it myself.”

A growl was all you were going to get in response to your desperate snarky comment. He then brought his hand up to suck on two of his fingers, his pointer and his middle. But, instead of then putting them to good use to help you reach a peak he stalled some more by bringing them up to your own mouth.

“I want you to suck too.” A little whine was all you could give in response before letting his fingers inside your mouth. You sucked diligently, making sure to get them wet enough for you.

Once he was finally satisfied with your efforts he removed them, a slight popping noise escaping. Bringing his hand down slowly was just another attempt to tease some more, but you knew that he’d reach there eventually. No matter how hard it was to be patient, you did so, though with a bit of squirming.

Your hips bucked up immediately in response to his fingers coming into content with your clit, Spencer’s other hand came down to press your hips back down again. He spent his sweet time playing with patterns, circling your clit a few times slowly before switching to a faster figure 8 pattern, seemingly just to get you more desperate.

“Spencer- again if you don’t do more I’ll take care of it myself!” You snapped harder with more venom this time, patience wearing dangerously thin. You thought you heard a small whisper of the word brat underneath his breath, but you decided to table it when he finally did oblige you.

You had to bite down on your lip hard when he stopped circling your entrance to plunge two of his fingers inside of you. The pressure on your lip was most certainly almost enough to break the skin while he began thrusting his fingers inside you in a steady rhythm, crooking them perfectly to make you see stars. You had to bite your lip so hard to combat the raging moans that wanted to escape from you due to the pressure he was putting on your gspot.

He brought his thumb up to circle your clit again once he saw that you were getting close, helping push you closer towards the edge. Your lungs were heaving in gasping breaths mixed with desperate moans as he continued to add stimulation to your most sensitive spots, hitting them perfectly with each crook of his fingers and circling of your clit.

Just as your orgasm was about to wash over you, all of his movements stopped abruptly. The euphoric stimulation you had been feeling was ripped away from you, his thumb on your clit halted, the curling of his fingers ceased, and his mouth that had been pressing kisses and hidden hickies to my collarbone had concluded its actions.

“April fools.” He then removed his fingers from me and promptly sauntered off to his own desk with no other words for you. Your legs were still shaking, more now from being edged to the point that you fully had to sit down onto your desk to try and regain your composure. Your jaw also was hanging slack in shock in contrast to how hard you had been biting your lips earlier while his fingers had been inside you.

A little glance from Spencer was thrown your way that was probably to gage your reaction,

you spotted even in your disheveled and distraught state. You had to admit, it was not what you were expecting and he had got you good. Your plan paled in comparison by far considering you were just going to have the entire office call him Stanley all day- and of course steal the coffee grounds to see if you could provoke an even bigger reaction out of him.

A deep sigh came from you, an non verbal admission of your glorious defeat. He had well and truly got you, it wasn’t as if you could exactly defend yourself and your pranks to the team during judging. Not that you really wanted to defend them, there was no reason to, he had well and truly beaten you. You could accept when you had been beaten, you’d accept defeat with grace. Though you definitely still feared the idea Spencer would come up with as a consolation prize for his win.

Reaching down with your hands to a stack of files on your desk you absentmindedly straightened them, then sitting down in your desk chair. You wriggled around a bit, feeling the dampness in your parties, already regretting sitting down. With another sigh you nodded towards Spencer, an acknowledgement of his momentous victory before getting up again to go clean yourself up in the bathroom to clean up- and maybe splash some cold water on your face. Though by the smirk on his face, there was no way this wasn’t going to happen again. And, maybe with him actually letting you finish or not, the thrill was sometimes in the chase of one. You’d also have to think of your own way of retaliation in the future of course, just because you accepted defeat just now doesn’t mean there wasn't a longer war to be won. Plus perhaps you will admit your deeper feelings for him that you could now see lying beneath his eyes as well, feelings much deeper than desire.

Safe to say you just told the team that you lost fair and square, not divulging why no matter how much Penelope pried. It was without a doubt, a glorious defeat.

—

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader

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alvfr · 4 years ago

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Bittersweet Hotch

Gif by the lovely @dudeitiskarev

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+, minors DNI Words: 3.9K (look at me writing something shorter than 15k, huh?) Warning: Semi-public sex. Anal play (fem receiving). Love. Description: A short version of Hotch's POV from Chapter 1 of Bittersweet ("Accidents" Part 5). Link to the full series in my masterlist - will probably make most sense if you’ve read those first 💕

(Warning: Very NSFW below the cut! 18+)

Bittersweet Hotch

There were a lot of reasons why Aaron loved you.

The bigger things, of course, such as your intelligence, your sharp humor, and your heart. Your unbridled compassion for the whole world, however undeserving at times, where Aaron occasionally filed himself in the latter category. Just occasionally though, not all the time anymore. Not after you had made it so blatantly clear how good you thought he was and he found himself striving to live up to those expectations. Surprisingly, it worked.

So yes, the bigger things were almost self-explanatory for why he loved you. Why anyone would love you, really, if they got the chance. Then there were all the little things. Small drops accumulating all the time, like water on a mountainside patiently eroding the seemingly impenetrable rock. One drop after the other until the dam broke and Aaron finally realized he loved you, even if he had done it for some time already. How you hummed to yourself if you thought no one was around, how you always stretched right after waking up, and how you lit up at the sight of him without noticing it yourself.

It was subtle, of course, especially when you were at work. But after Morgan had deftly pointed it out to Aaron — who had asked how the infamous bet started — it was impossible to ignore. He could see how other people on the team had picked up on it. It sometimes made it unbearable to maintain the rigid professionalism you had agreed on at work because now Aaron noticed it all the time. Whenever you walked into a room, you would seek him out first. A small glance, maybe a split second at most, but always there. At home, in more relaxed surroundings, you dropped your guard down further and he could see how your pupils dilated when you caught his eye. And lately, you got that small smile on your lips too, a smile that had Aaron convinced he would do absolutely anything for you.

It was that smile of yours that had made him bold enough to say those three words for the first time back at his kitchen. After that unsub clocked you with a two-by-four and Aaron had to physically restrain himself from beating up a local SWAT officer. Your reaction to those three words had not been as he hoped for, at least not at first, but it had improved quickly. He had come to realize that although you were — like him — keenly intelligent and —also like him — profiled people for a living, you were just as stupid as he was when it came to love. Just as human and vulnerable. There was something incredibly reassuring about that and in all honesty, it just made him love you more.

It meant he had to work harder though, to make you realize how serious he was about this. About this relationship, about you. This promotion they offered you, the one that forced him to squash down his selfish desires to keep you close at all times, was a good thing. It was good for you, and where he had let Haley play the second fiddle in favor of his career and his goals, he was not going to subject you to the same. He could be supportive — he wanted to be supportive — and if that meant sacrifices on his part, so be it. Hopefully, you’d realize he was serious about both this relationship, but also that he took you seriously. As a person, a partner, and a profiler.

The forced hierarchy from your jobs should not and would not seep into any other areas of your lives together.

All of these things had been clear in his mind when you stormed into his office earlier, kicking the door shut, and demanding answers. He loved that about you too. How brazen you could be and that you were comfortable enough around him now to be brazen, even here. Time had gone by quickly, but he could recall just like yesterday when he had held an impromptu performance review here in his office. When he had tried — in vain — to lay down some boundaries, but still found himself unable to say outright that this couldn’t happen. You and him? Impossible for so many reasons. The age difference, your jobs, his son — so many obstacles that had been swept away by those steady drops of water. Things he eventually forgot were obstacles at all unless someone pointed it out for him.

And as he watched you chew your bottom lip raw — so obviously conflicted about this offer and so obviously looking for some kind of permission from him to take it — he realized he would do anything for you. Maybe that was why it had happened? He certainly hadn’t planned it, but seeing your wet eyes after he asked you to move in — again, not the reaction he planned for — he had acted on instinct. Anything to turn that confusion into something simpler.

It started as a kiss. Just a simple gesture of affection and a physical distraction. And perhaps your boldness had rubbed off on him or all those whispered confessions how you fantasized about being bent over his desk played a part, but the next thing he knew, he had pushed his hand up the skirt of your dress. By then it was too late to back down. The way your breath hitched when his fingers brushed against the silken part of your inner thigh skipped through both ears and brain and lodged straight into his libido. And then that perfect mouth of yours had dropped open when he ran his finger against the thin material of your underwear. Using his trigger finger to carve out that well-defined slit marking the entrance to something downright holy — he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to, and despite your half-hearted pleas, you didn’t want him to stop either.

You hadn’t been wet to start with, but it took seconds before he felt the fabric dampen. Blood rushing to swell your lips and that tight bundle of nerves he loved to rub, suck, and bite when the occasion called for it. He thought he could tell the difference with each of your heartbeats and he’ll admit he got lost in the moment.

A calculated risk on many levels, but when you shuddered and tightened around his fingers — two of them pumping into you with sloppy wet sounds — he knew he would have come in his pants if he’d been twenty years younger. Sometimes he hated that he was noticeably older than you, other times he silently thought it gave him the opportunity to show you the sexual experiences you deserved. He had another kind of patience now than when he was young, another kind of appreciation for giving as well as receiving pleasure, and let’s face it, another kind of stamina. Not necessarily better, but different.

The sight of you fully dressed, knees knocking against his where he caged you in the chair, and with a glow to your cheeks would forever be burned into his retina. He’d never able to see anyone sit in that chair again without remembering this moment and he was unable to decide whether or not that was a good thing.

It was at least part of the reason why he stayed hard — rock hard, so uncomfortably strained against the stretchy materials of his boxers — even while driving to the city. Trying and wanting to make good on his offer for lunch. And he could smell the faintest wafts of your juices on his fingers and that didn’t help one bit. For a second he had been tempted to let you help him as you had offered — unzip and lean back as far as possible in the seat, pushing your head down and feeling the rasp of your teeth when he pushed too hard at one point. No. He had tried, he told himself, to make this about you. All about you.

There was still a limit to his willpower.

“Aaron,” you had said when the car was parked, the forest empty besides the two of you. As if nothing really existed outside the two of you. Your lips were swollen from his kiss where you leaned halfway over the console. Your eyes were heavy-lidded and focused on him, pinning him in place with your unbridled sincerity. “You just need to decide if you want me to suck your dick or not before you fuck me.”

It took less than a minute before he was shoving his dick into your wet and open cunt where you laid splayed over the passenger seat in the SUV. The door stood wide open to allow him access to you, with the chill of the Virginia forest whispering across the bare skin of his thighs and yours alike. Outdoors, in the middle of the day, when you both were supposed to be at work and not fucking like two teenagers at the end of a forest road. You with that fancy dress rucked up to your midriff, and him with his pants and boxers nestled around his ankles. He didn’t even bother stepping out of them, working with what he had and shoving himself into you through the car door.

The agent and the lawyer in him mumbled something vague about indecent exposure, but drowned out at the sight of you throwing your head back when he snapped his hips forward, your wet open lips pressed against and around him. You weren’t even worried. Another part he loved about you. Spontaneous, risk-taker, daredevil — call it whatever the hell you wanted, but he loved it. It. You. He loved you.

It always felt like the first time when he pushed into you, that heated way you almost sucked him in, squeezing around his dick like a tight fist. Pure velvet fire consuming his dick, and his fingers scrambled for hold, searching for those soft parts of your body that yielded to his grip. He could feel your insides tighten whenever he hit a particularly good point and he kept the pace brutal because you asked him to. At least he thought you did — you at least swore incessantly and it was hard to tell the fuck me’s from the ordinary fuck’s. You always swore like this when you didn’t have to be quiet — and sometimes even then — and it was all breathless and beautiful and he strived to give you everything you wanted. Everything he had.

He loved the way he could see your breasts bounce even under that tight dress he had all but tricked you into wearing today. And when you had to turn around, he loved the way your ass jiggled every time he thrust into you. He loved the way his fingers fit on your body, how pliant it was, somehow always making room for him — be it his fingers, his dick, or his tongue.

You made a spectacular sight and he didn’t know where to focus. On the faint reflection in the window on the other side where he could see your eyes tightly closed and mouth hanging open. On the curve of your waist, flaring up to your hips where his hands held you. On the ripple passing through your thighs and ass cheeks every time he went all in so his balls smacked against your undoubtedly swollen clit. Or on your puffy wet lips gripping around his dick in rhythm to his hips snapping forward, a clear mirror of how your other lips looked like when they locked around his cock.

His mind felt blank and he was aware he was saying something. Trying and failing to put his thoughts into words, mostly groaning your name and saying how beautiful you were over and over again. Because you were. Jesus Christ, you were. It was partially as a distraction for himself when he reached around to find your clit — two fingers, pulling the hood back a fraction so he could move better around it — because he wanted to fill you up now.

He wanted to pump you so full of his cum you’d feel it for the rest of the day. It was a little caveman-ish, but he was done trying to deny he loved seeing his white spend pool out of your hole. A claim, a mark, an undeniable sign of where he’d been. Of what you’d done together and how you’d let him use your pussy. The only thing that could compare was seeing it in your mouth, a small pearly shimmer of something that was his gliding over your tongue.

This distraction wasn’t working. Fuck. Aaron felt the drops of sweat run down his back — despite all his cardio, his dress shirts were tight and warm now with the brutal pace he’d set. God, you were exquisite. Knees spread wide on the seat, bottom of your ass resting on your ankles on either side of his thighs. Wide-open and fucking gorgeous. He wanted to make you come around his dick again. He needed to make you come around his dick again. To feel what only his fingers felt earlier, how you’d squeeze and pulsate and buck your hips to get deeper and more. Fuck.

His tie hung loosely over your back and occasionally censored you from his view. Breathing hard, Aaron flung it away and — acting on some kind of instinct or just pure debauchery — he pooled spit in his mouth and let it drop down so it hit that perfect little asshole of yours. You obviously felt it — he heard both a gasp and had to increase his grip so you wouldn’t fly right off his dick, but most of all he saw how you tightened and that little asshole became momentarily smaller. Fucking exquisite. He checked your reflection in the window, saw the full-on mask of pleasure, and more blood left his head to pump into his dick so he wondered if you would feel it thump inside of you.

He could debate how good of a distraction it was, but at least the sight of his spit running between your cheeks kept his focus from how his dick felt in your pussy. Aaron knew he was good at multi-tasking, but this was almost too much. Remembering to keep fingering your clit — aided by how you squirmed against his hand — and trying to keep a steady pace with his dick — again aided by how you also pushed back to meet his thrusts — and wetting his thumb thoroughly before gliding it over your asshole.

Worth it, he thought vaguely, based on those positively angelic sounds you made. Even with how you swore, it sounded like gospel. He barely remembered to ask if it was okay —if it was good, if this was accepted —so mesmerized at the sight. He had done this before — always carefully, always asking for permission — not really for any other reason that in some positions, it felt like your body offered it to him. And you liked it and where Aaron hadn’t had any particular fantasies about it before, it struck that caveman-gene in him again that this was another hole to fill with his cum. Another part of you to claim in the most depraved way possible.

Maybe down the line, but so far you had never gone further than what he did right now. Rubbing a slick finger around that tight little ring he couldn’t imagine fitting even his pinky inside. It took some willpower to let his hand follow the rhythm of your body — sometimes you pushed back against his dick so hard his finger would have poked into you whether you wanted it to or not — but he wanted this to be good for you. Needed this to be good for you.

But when you told him to fuck you, and rub your clit, and don’t stop, he wasn’t going to question it.

He groaned, mostly because of how you squeezed your pussy around his dick — again like a tight fist that you might as well have sucker-punched him with — as he pushed the very tip of his thumb into your ass. Tight. Hot. Only wet because of his spit, but based on your sounds, not exactly painful. He rubbed your clit harder, hoping to ease any discomfort there was or at least distract from it, and worked his thumb gently around. A vision of his thumb buried down to the hilt floated across his mind. Another way to grip you, using your ass as a balance hole to pull you back onto his dick, and he closed his eyes while involuntarily working your clit harder as if he could transfer some of his quickly approaching climax into you.

Another time, he reminded himself and tried to focus on your words. That didn’t help. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Aaron, please don’t stop. And in the same breath, you told him to come inside you — to fill you up — and that you were moving in with him and you wanted him to keep going and he couldn’t.

On your instructions, his thumb was inside to the first knuckle and he could feel himself now, could feel his dick where he was balls-deep inside of you. The further his thumb went in, the easier it got too, almost like you were sucking him in and he tried to remember to wiggle it around, loosening you up some, wanting this to feel good for you. But you were so tight and wet and you weren’t happy with how he’d slowed his pace on anything because you obviously wanted more.

He kept rubbing your wet little clit, almost on auto-pilot, but had to stop thrusting before he came before you. Did you have any idea of how good you felt? On his dick like this? Gushing wet and spread open and still so fucking tight? The slick sounds of his fingers on your clit drowned in your breathy pleas for him to keep going.

The words made it through the haze in Aaron’s mind, where all he could see was where the two of you were joined. Yes, he could do the fucking laundry. Yes, in his apartment. Yes, you were moving in. Yes, you were close to coming and you sounded so desperate he had to try. His wrist burned from circling your clit at the awkward angle, but he’d wear a wrist brace for the rest of the week if that meant feeling you lose yourself to a climax around him.

But he was so close. His balls tight and throbbing, bursting with cum he wanted to shoot inside of you. Wanted to watch it ooze out of your swollen glistening cunt afterward, use his fingers to push it back in, and then let you lick them clean. He wanted to do all of that. But not before you came first.

Almost holding his breath, he pulled his dick out with a lewd squelch, fighting to keep the rhythm on your clit even though you were squirming and swaying all over the place. Both of you were so close and you shoved your hips back to meet his next thrust, and your tight, tight asshole swallowed the rest of his thumb, and thank god that made you almost scream as you came because Aaron only lasted two — three — four more thrusts into your tight, tight pussy before he followed. He felt it in his whole body, the way the dam burst, and his nerve-endings exploded as he came.

The quiet forest engulfed his loud groan, the sound of your name in his chest, and your thin whimpers of unbridled pleasure. He desperately grabbed onto your hips to steady himself, keeping you from pulling away, wanting everything pumped into you. He halfway pulled back and buried himself all the way in again and grunted your name like he had traveled ten thousand years to the past and reduced to nothing but animal instincts. His balls pulsated, shooting string after string of cum into you, more than he would have expected. Hopefully enough. Filling you up to the brim, just like you’d fucking asked for, and enough to eventually run out of you to coat that expensive lace he’d bought today.

He clutched your hips like a lifeline — like you’d clutched that folder earlier today in his office — like your pussy clutched and milked his dick. He still twitched inside of you, still on the cusp of the orgasm, and he breathed hard to counteract the light-headedness. You were so perfect for him in every way, just so tight that he could feel his own cum coat around his dick in the limited space.

I love you, he thought and memorized every curve and line of your back, not enough breath in his lungs to say it just yet. Slowly coming down, he massaged your hips where he had left his marks yet again. Fingerprints dug into your skin in slight bruisings, ones you seemed to appreciate. You breathed equally hard as him, but looked at him over your shoulder, so flushed and gorgeous and deserving of the world.

I love you.

It was in your eyes, your smile, and often coming out your mouth too. Not right now as you only panted slightly, but you looked at him in a way that stole his breath away all over again.

I love you.

You had looked at him like that so many times before you said it for the first time, and Aaron knew you had held back. Patience. Trust. Understanding. It was in your every move and conversation with him. He didn’t know if he had earned it, but he hadn’t lied before of how grateful he was for it. Now it was his turn, he realized, to show you the same. To adapt to your schedule and your needs like you had done for him.

Like you were doing right now when the sound of his ring tone cut through the foggy aftermath of your orgasms. Not even hesitating, you reached out for his phone — Aaron swallowed a grunt when the movement pulled his dick from your gushing hole — and handed him both phone and some wet wipes. You had never tried to compete with either the job or Jack, and Aaron loved you for that too. Even if he deep-down knew he should have prioritized differently at times, you had made it so he didn’t have to. You had made everything so easy. Always, so easy, because apparently you felt he was worth it.

Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything but satisfaction in your eyes now either as you watched him try to listen to Garcia. If you kept this up, he might start to think he was worth it too.

He wanted to be worth it, he realized, watching the wicked glint in your eye when you sucked his fingers clean after the call ended. Wanted to have you and this and everything forever.

There were many reasons why Aaron loved you, but most of all because you had made him believe he could love again at all.

A/N: First time writing this "you"-style from Hotch's POV and looking for feedback. If it's confusing or if it’s unclear who’s POV it is. Also first time writing smut from a guy’s perspective and accepting feedback on that as well 🥰

As always, I strive to be inclusive of my reader-inserts, so please let me know if any descriptions or phrases needs changing.

Remember to reblog if you liked it! And that comments feed my creativity just as much as caffeine 💕

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #accidents #criminal minds fanfiction #tumblr exclusive

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achliegh · 4 years ago

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Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 8:

Boat Playlist: Youtube, Spotify

“Noelle… Why did I run!? That was a terrible decision!” Thomas has been pacing around the room at the foot of their bed for the past hour, butt ass naked. He came to find Noelle at Judy's, obviously something was wrong, when Thomas starts to worry he starts sweating which means he takes off his clothes.

“I don’t know babe, but we need to talk to him…. Also,” She smacks his ass with a pillow as hard as she can and lets out a frustrated sigh. “WE HAD A PLAN!” She sits back on her heels and puts her face in her hands. Taking a deep breath she looks up at him. “Tomorrow is a new day, we can hopefully get Clay alone to talk to him. Did you even stay to see how he reacted?” Thomas shakes his head and flops down on his side of the bed, limbs resembling a starfish. She looks down at him and smiles a little. This beautiful, yet stupid, man makes her heart beat so fast she doesn’t know how to react.

Clay another beautiful, yet stupid, man was someone who makes her feel the same. Hopefully they can show him how they feel in a less chaotic way.

Hopefully.

The next morning the sun woke Logan up by blinding him through the small opening in the curtains around the bed. They left it slightly open so Leo would know they were there and waiting for him… but he didn’t come to bed last night. Logan rolls over just to make sure Leo didn’t sneak in on the other side of the bed.

Nope.

Logan gets this odd sinking feeling in his chest and wakes Finn by shaking him. Finn rolls over and wraps his arms around Logan just shushing him.

“It’s too early.” Logan rolls his eyes and pinches Finn’s side making him scoot away from Logan. Whining a little he opens one eye and looks at Logan, pushing himself up on his elbow to look over him to see if Leo is in bed, he frowns. “Did he come back?”

“I don’t think so, and I don’t know where he went so we can’t go find him.” Logan sits up and sighs, he yawns and stretches, rolling his shoulders out. Flopping his arms down he turns to look at Finn and notices he has already fallen back asleep, he was up a while after Logan had fallen asleep waiting for Leo so Logan just kissed his forehead. Rolling to the edge of the bed he sits up and puts his feet on the ground. Cracking his toes and ankles he sighs in relief, standing up and walking to the closet to get some clothes for the day. As he is digging through his bag looking for a pair of socks he hears the door slide open and close. Then there were warm arms around his shoulders and a chin resting on top of his head.

“Leo?”

“Logan.” That familiar drawl sunk its way into his heart and gut, he turns around in Leo’s arms and cups his face. He looked exhausted, there were a couple of leaves in his hair, the bags under his eyes were purple against his golden tan skin. He notices a few freckles on his nose that are just barely there. Running a thumb over his chapped lips Logan looks him in the eyes. That dark blue has gotten duller and he frowns. “Logan.” Leo closes his eyes and brushes his nose against Logan's.

Suddenly Leo stands back up straight, towering above Logan and starts to sink down to his knees, running his hands down from Logan’s shoulders to his sides and landing on his hips. Looking up at Logan with these half open eyes that causes a spike of arousal throughout his entire body. Leo grabs his hand and puts it into his hair as he starts to press soft kisses into Logan’s hip bones.

Logan knows what Leo wants him to do, and he wants to do it. He feels himself getting hard and takes a shaky breath, he was only in his boxers from sleeping last night so there wasn’t much for Leo to pull away. Tipping his head back and gasping as Leo swallows him down he grips his hair tightly. What takes Logan by surprise is Leo doesn’t move, it's like he was waiting for something, and he was. Logan moves his hips on reflex and Leo moans to let him know what he wants. Logan looks down at him surprised, Leo pulls off for a moment to tell him the words that would ring in his ears for a long time after.

“Use me, please.” and he did as Leo wished. He started slowly to push in and out of Leo’s mouth, groaning at the feeling because Leo knew what he was doing. Gripping Leo’s hair tighter and moving faster he sees Leo completely relaxed and almost peaceful. He curses under his breath and moans when Leo moves his tongue just right.

Hearing the closet door open again he looks up to see Finn walk in, stumbling and still half asleep. His socks match his underwear like the ‘loser’ he is, according to himself. Logan goes to say something but Leo gives him a nice long suck that draws out an incredibly pornographic moan from him.

Finn startles a little and looks up to see Logan fucking into Leo’s mouth, it was beautiful… and got him extremely hard, blood rushing down. Leo gestures him over with his hand and Finn moves on autopilot. Leo grabs him by the back of his thigh when he gets close enough and pulls off of Logan, yanking Finn’s underwear down and taking over the situations he swirls his tongue over the head of Finn’s cock while running his thumb over Logan’s. Smiling a little as he hears them groan in pleasure and grab his shoulder and hair.

As time passed Logan and Finn were kissing and just breathing each other in as Leo would switch between who he was jerking and who he was swallowing. Panting his name Leo kept a steady pace until he felt they were getting close. He pulls off Logan one last time and takes them one in each hand, he starts pumping them in a quick pace, twisting at the head. Logan throws his head back with his eyes closed as he holds on to both Finn and Leo. Finn closes his eyes and presses his chin to his chest as his hips stutter.

“Leo!” They both say as they finally break and cum off over Leo’s face. Finn opens his eyes after a few moments and looks down at Leo, his dick twitching from the sight he sees. Leo being flushed red, his pupils blow wide, and the cum slowly drips down his face. He wishes he could take a picture and keep it forever.

Logan kneels down next to Leo and smiles. Picking up a white shirt off the ground and starts to wipe Leo’s face. “Do you want us to get you off?” Leo shakes his head and smiles lovingly at Logan and gives him a peck when he is finished wiping Leo off. He stands up and kisses Finn as well before walking out and whistling to a random tune. Looking at each other confused, Finn helps Logan up.

They just get ready for the day with an ominous cloud over their heads.

A half an hour later, Leo was pulling on his jeans and about to button them when the bathroom door burst open. Reg comes stomping in with a fury behind his eyes, grabbing Leo by his arm he marches him back into the room and to the door of his bedroom. Past Finn and Logan who were pulling on a shirt and fixing their hat. They ended up following behind the two younger guys and stumbling down the stairs.

“Clayton London Bruss!” his mom could be heard yelling from the kitchen as he exited the entrance hall. Pausing Clay takes a step back but hears his mother call again and he sighs, walking into the kitchen he sees the whole team getting breakfast. Mom looks like she is fuming, Leo is half naked and being pulled behind Reg who looks like a twin demon to his mother. He makes eye contact with Leo and sees the same fire light in him.

Fuck, he really messed up.

“Good morning! How was everyone's night.” Clay put on his most charming smile and waltzed over to his mothers side and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He goes to grab a piece of toast when a hand grabs his wrist and yanks him to look at them. Leo was furious.

“What so you are going to walk in to MY house and act like you didn’t almost destroy my fucking trust in you!?” Leo let go of his wrist and cupped his neck, getting close enough that only Clay could hear him. “Are you okay? What did she do to you? I can tell something is bothering you.” Before Clay could answer he felt a sharp slap on his ass with the bottom of what he knows is his mom's house slipper. Jumping away from Leo he whips around and looks at her offended while rubbing where she just smacked him.

“Ow!”

“Why would you go somewhere with that- that bitch!” Judy is not one to curse so wildly, so Clay knows she is upset. He smiles shyly at her and shrugs his shoulders. She starts hitting him with her shoe, not trying to cause any harm or anything, but she suddenly lands a hit in a place he was going to try and hide. His side, where lovely Ashley gave him a giant fucking bruise last night after finishing… the deed. She kicked him out of the bed physically and decided to land a couple more to make sure he stayed off the bed.

He gasps and clutches his side when she hits him and everyone freezes, his mom, Leo, Reg, and the entire team who was just trying to mind their own business. Reg doesn’t waste a second, he lifts ups Clays shirt and whispers a ‘holy fuck’ when he sees the bruise that covers the side of his friend. Judy tells him to take his shirt off and like the good son he is, he does. She starts examining him in the way the retired nurse was trained to do.

“Leo, does your mom have any Tylenol?”

“Let me go check.” Leo turns and walks down a hall to a linen closet where they keep all their medicine and injury stuff. They can hear him rummaging around. Judy continues to poke and prod at his side and he flinches sometimes and just sucks in a breath at the others. He tries to keep his eyes down to the ground but he knows there are two particular sets of eyes on him.

“We only have Ibuprofen, it looks like she took the other first aid case when she left for France a few weeks ago.” Leo walks back over and stands next to Reg who is just boiling over with anger. “Reg and I can go to the pharmacy in the mall and pick some up while you keep him here.”

“Actually I think it would be best if he goes with you. She hands Clay his shirt and gives all three of them a look that says ‘work this out.’ They all nod and head to Leo’s car because the truck was still packed full of junk from the summer.

They drive in silence.

Pulling into the mall Reg points out that maybe they need to stop at the pet store they always stop at when they come to this mall. They all agree and walk in, the familiar bell ringing above them. Clay had worked here for a short time a couple of years ago and is still friends with the owner. The teenage music playing over the speakers as one of the employees feeds the little parakeets in the corner, they give the guys a wave and go back to their job.

A song Leo has never heard before was playing, but the words stuck with him… it's an insecurity he has actually had for a while in his relationship.

“So if you wanna piss off your parents. Date me to scare them. Show them you're all grown up. If long hair and tattoos are what attract you. Baby, then you're in luck, and I know it's just a phase. You're not in love with me. You wanna piss off your parents, baby. Piss off your parents. That's alright with me.”

“What if we casually sneak a fish?” Clay is looking at the beta fish in small square tubs just waiting to be snatched. Knocking Leo out of his slowly spiraling thoughts from the music and bringing his attention to something else.

“Out of us three you would never be able to do it.” Leo has a challenge to his voice as he joins Clay in looking at the fish. He has his eyes on an orange one, it reminds him of Finn. It also has the attitude of Logan by trying to attack the fish in the next tub.

“Oh god…” Reg sighs and watches them share a look and smirk, they were going to try and steal the fucking fish. He watched them go up to the counter with their fish just out of sight of the cashier while buying some fish food and small square travel bowls… but not the fish. Reg rolls his eyes and gets his own fish, bowl and food. Walking up to the counter after those two idiots scurried out of the shop as quickly as they could.

Reg got rang up with all of his items. He thought for a moment and decided that he wasn’t going to tell Leo and Clay that he paid for their fish.

“Add two more fish to my price, the yahoo’s that just left happened to steal one for each of them.” The cashier laughs a little and has a polite conversation with him about his friends. Once he is done paying he finds them both in the car with the air conditioner blasting onto the fish to keep them cool as they go into the pharmacy.

Judy was not impressed when they came back with fish, but they got what she asked for. She hands Clay a bag of ice and tells him to go relax. He rolls his eyes and earns himself another smack on the butt from her house slipper. He runs away into the main floor bathroom before she can get him again.

He doesn’t realize he didn’t lock the door until two familiar faces walk in. One standing in front of the door and the other coming over to examine his side. Noelle and Thomas.

“Noelle, I’m sorry. I promise I wasn’t thinking and I know Thomas loves you with everything and I’m not trying to get in the way of tha- OW!” She had taken the ice from him and pressed it on his side just a little too hard, the Tylenol hasn’t quite kicked in yet.

“Sorry, sorry! Also, you know how you are going to get in the middle of Thomas and I.” She looks at him straight in the eye, he swallows. He hasn’t been able to get close enough to her to see the warmth of the brown around her pupil and the green surrounding it yet. He couldn’t stop staring. Sometime when he was looking at her eyes she moved to be between his legs and is now resting the hand that isn’t holding the ice pack to his side, on his thigh. His eyes flick down to her hand and then over to Thomas who is just giving off these vibes that Finn gets when Leo and Logan are flirting. “Like this.” She takes the hand from his thigh and turns his chin to face her.

She kisses him, and it doesn’t have the same fire in his veins like his kiss with Thomas did. But it made him feel like he was floating in one of those sensory deprivation tanks. Nothing else was being focused on but Noelle and Thomas. Clay felt a hand rest on his lower back, pulling away to look he was pulled into another kiss by those lips that set him alight the night before. His hands move to grip a shoulder from both of them.

After a few moments Thomas pulls away, Clay keeps his eyes closed for a moment to calm his spinning thoughts. When he opens his eyes he sees the most beautiful sight. Thomas and Noelle were kissing right in front of him, smiling into the kiss Noelle nips at Thomas’ lip as they pull away. Both turning to look at Clay. With the same look they give each other.

This could work.

Leo is watching his new fish swim around in its new travel tank when he gets a sloppy kiss on each cheek.

“One of you needs to shave, you’re prickly.” He looks at Finn who is rubbing his cheek and shrugs. Smiling he turns back to his fish and watches it just… exist.

“So, is this what you’re replacing us with?” Logan puts his face near and glass and swatches the flurry of orange and red swim around the tank.

“I got it because it reminds me of y’all. It’s red just like Finn.” He sweetly pinches Finn’s cheek, getting his hand swatted away by a snorting Finn. “And aggressive like Logan.” He pinches Logan's ass and gets slapped on the arm.

“How can a fish be aggressive?” Leo blinks at them a couple of times, he gently moves the fish’s tank a little closer to Reg’s fish’s tank and they watch as the fish tries to attack the other. Leo raises both his eyebrows and purses his lips in a sassy way. “Huh… that fish really is Lo.”

“Okay, instead of comparing me to a fish, can we talk about where you slept last night Leo.” Leo pauses and moves the tank back away from the other, deciding on whether to tell the truth or not… he decides to show them. Standing up from his stool he nods toward the back patio door and walks towards it. As they follow him he takes them down a path towards a pond where the mama and papa duck are feeding.

He walks over to the large willow tree and leans against it facing out to the pond. Logan and Finn are still taking in their surroundings, the leaves dangling off the drooping branches, it was serene and calm. The light breeze moved those same leaves like wind chimes. The sun rising through the gaps in the tree lights up the ground like a spotlight on the few wildflowers that have been able to thrive in the small spot of sun. Marigolds were planted around the trunk besides a spot that was the perfect size for someone to sit against.

“It’s very calming out here, I see why you’d fall asleep out here.” Logan was braiding a few of the smaller branches together. Smiling when they unraveled themselves.

“It’s my dad's tree. When he passed, he didn’t want to be buried in a casket that would keep him from giving back to the earth… So we cremated him and buried him with this willow sapling.” Leo was leaning against the tree in the trunk of the tree right in the spot where the marigolds weren’t blooming. He looked like he belonged there.

“I’m sorry about your dad.” Finn looks at him sadly and then back at the ground where a squirrel ran past like they weren’t even there.

“It wasn’t your fault, don’t apologize. It wasn’t my dad’s fault either… the police report and his death certificate say he committed suicide but, its not what happened. When I was 16 Ma and I were at one of my baseball games, we came home to find our entire property was covered by police. Obviously something wasn’t right. Know that about a month before I came out as gay and my dad came out as bi, we came out together and Ma was so proud of us.” Smiling a little at the memory. “I remember she made a cake that said “I love my gays” dad found it hilarious, I was just still processing that everyone knew about me so I cried.” Leo laughs a little and sniffles, getting a little teary from the last happy memory of his dad. “ My dad had told me he was bi by telling me about a guy he would mess around with in highschool… I found out who that guy was after his death. Basically what happened was dad was found in the middle of one of the pens with a bullet to his temple. It was in the right side of his head and the gun, which was the only gun on the whole property by the way, was in his right hand… Daddy was left handed.” Leo shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from cracking his knuckles, a habit he picked up because his mother hates it when he does it.

Finn and Logan were keeping themselves busy by watching the ducks and the ripple of the water but listening intently to the story.

“Yeah, the guy my dad was messing around with in highschool… he was the first person on the scene. It was the sheriff. He has always made Ma’s and my life a living hell so I guess it makes sense. You know the funny thing, random flowers will show up at this tree sometimes. I know it's him who is sneaking in and putting them there. He’s such a piece of shit.” Leaning his head back on the tree Leo takes a deep breath to calm down. Something is poking at his leg, making him look down.

It was Daisy, the mother duck of all the ducklings every year. Also, Eloise’s best friend. Leo smiles and gives her a couple of pets and pats and she waddles away back to the pond.

Hours pass, Leo is still distant when speaking but he is always touching them in some way. Whether it's a pinky linked with Logan’s or resting his head on Finn’s shoulders randomly. It was cute but they also know he is letting himself process his emotions. Once, he was back to wanting to interact with people. He mentions how Clay and he own a small pontoon on a lake about 15 minutes away. Everyone was up for it so they packed coolers and got into their swimsuits. Judy made sure they had bug spray, sunscreen, food, and water. Remus was in charge of bringing that because literally anyone else would have forgotten it.

Everyone piled onto this, obviously not old, pontoon and got comfy in the pleather seats. There was even a top deck with a slide that Kuny was dying to try out. As Leo was pulling off the dock some people went up to the top deck to sunbathe and feel the wind as they drove. Clay was hooking up his phone to put on the only radio he cares about, the pontoon radio. (Youtube, Spotify)

No one was surprised when some country music about a pontoon actually started playing over the rather impressive speaker system on the boat. Leo drove past a small, large, corner that was much less well kept than the rest of the lake. Clay, Reg and Leo all waved over to the corner smiling like idiots.

“What's over there?” Sirius is looking over and trying to see a person but no one is there. The rest of the team is also trying to see literally anything.

“Our favorite gator! His name is Scar because he, like Clay over here, has a fat scar across his face.” Leo smiles and pats Clay’s shoulder who slaps his back and runs away to hide behind Thomas before Leo can grab him.

Leo gets them into the middle of the lake, the deepest part, and hears a bit of a scuffle. Looking over to see Clay trying to push Thomas off the boat and failing, smiling at them he watches as Thomas picks clay up over his shoulder and jumps into the water with him. It causes a chain reaction of everyone else jumping in.

Minus Finn and Lily who were still applying sunscreen.

Everything was great, they were all relaxed and drinking. Clayton got to show off his super power of a human bottle opener by literally opening a bottle with his fucking buttcheeks. Kuny asked for a bottle opener and Clay just used the crook of his elbow.

When something other than country music came over the speakers the team was fucking shook, especially when Clay, Reg and Leo all started doing a fucking line dance to the song Working Bitch by Ashniko and singing it word for word. The only response they got was .

“We may be cowboys but we are still gay.”

When Up by Cardi B came on they went fucking nuts, changing specific words to fit Leo and Reg’s pasty ass skin, Clay took on the first verse, Reg the second and Leo the third.

It causes four people in particular to have mini heart attacks when their boys would rap all this raunchy stuff. They know these two are slutty but when the actual song S.L.U.T came on they didn’t expect them to sing it from their heart. Nat and Lily also joined in on singing some of these. Sometimes Remus and Finn would join in too but more lowkey than the others. All around it was a good time.

“Leo… Look.” Reg was next to him as he was holding Finn from behind as they watched Logan and Sirius arm wrestle for one of the last cigarettes. Reg points out the left side of the boat, looking where he is pointing Leo notices a small fishing boat that he’s never given permission to be out here. Sharing a look with Reg, he has a sinking feeling he knows exactly who it is, binoculars and all.

Calling everyone onto the boat so they can go and confront this person, Leo takes a lap around the lake to collect himself first. Slowing down as He pulls up next to the fishing boat at an appropriate distance not to knock him over.

“Howdy Sheriff.” Leo leans over the side of the boat, resting his forearms crossed on the railing. “Snooping?” He smiles at him.

“Let me on the boat son, I need to check you’re not drinking.” Leo rolls his eyes and opens the side door so he can climb on but doesn’t move closer. He sticks his hand out behind him so Reg can put a couple of pennies on his hand, Reg also gives some to Clay and takes two himself and puts them under his tongue. The sheriff checks everyone's IDs that he doesn’t know and walks over to the youngest ones. Taking out a breathalyzer from his jean pocket, because he is off duty and still policing for some reason. “Blow.”

“I thought you were trying to prove you’re not gay?” Clay smirks at the sour look he gets and blows into the breathalyzer and blows a 0, smiling and blowing a kiss to the annoyed 40 year old he walks back over to everyone else. Spitting his pennies into a cup.

“Blow.” Reg rolls his eyes and blows a 0 same as Clay walking over and spitting his pennies into the same cup. The sheriff doesn’t even tell Leo what to do, but he also blows a 0. Smiling a tight smile he crosses his arms.

“Happy? I’m just providing a boat for my friends to hang out on.”

“Having a gay orgy?” Leo smirks and looks down at him.

“Nope, but I know you’d want to join in.”

“You know this is private property and I know the owner and-and can get y’all kicked out!” He was turning red with embarrassment and anger, it was entertaining.

“Oh yeah? Call them then.” Leo picks at his nails as the sheriff calls the number posted on the sign out by the gate of the lake.

After a few moments, Leo’s phone rings.

He picks it up and says ‘hello’ It echoes through the sheriff's phone who is standing there stunned.

“Get the fuck off my property.” With that the sheriff gets back on his boat and drives off to the boat dock. Rubbing his temples he looks up to see Reg who gave him a thumbs up as he ended the video he was recording of the idiot, just in case anything else happened.

“Man, that guy is way worse than dad.” Noelle sips her beer as Logan nods in agreement. “Dad at least doesn’t patrol off duty… I don’t think.”

“Your dad is a sheriff?” Leo looks at them shocked because he doesn’t get along with any law enforcement besides Derek the keeper of the jail cells. The stab of worry that goes through his chest makes him have to take a breath. He tells them he is going up for a smoke and goes to the top deck.

Lighting up he listens to the music start again to keep everyone down stairs. Someone, who he is guessing is Clay, drives them back to the center to keep swimming.

Leo can’t help but think maybe… just maybe Finn and Logan are actually with him because they want him and not because they want to spice up their relationship, or to piss off their families.

He knew he was reaching though.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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ciggylungz · 5 years ago

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Tip toe

(Blurb request:

What if y/ns parents dont approve of Harry being her bf so they have to fuck behind their back) high school couple au

You ask, I deliver- 1.6k words

High school relationships were never easy, although things get a lot more complicated when your parents don’t approve of the person you choose to date. And well…that was y/n’s current predicament. She was forced to resort to sneaking around to see her boyfriend Harry. She truly didn’t understand why her parents didn’t like him, Harry is the best guy she could have chosen to be with, yet her parents still have the ‘no dating till you’re in college’ rule. One she didn’t respect nor follow, but her parents didn’t need to know that.

Y/n hates that she has to sneak around, but she really can’t live without her Hazza so she does it. The only time she feels truly happy is when she’s with her boy, and well the sex is also really fucking good. So more often than not the time they manage to snag together is spent shagging.

Of course, the two have their sweet, pg-rated moments but lets face it- teenagers are horny and Harry and Y/n are not an exception to that rule of nature.

______________________

‘I’m parked up the block’

y/n tried to hide her grin as her phone dinged, she had managed to trick her parents into thinking she was spending the night with her friend Maddie, instead of the true place she’ll be sleeping-or rather not sleeping- that night. In Harry’s bed.

The girl gave her parents a quick goodbye, shoving her feet into her sneakers as she traveled out of the house, practically sprinting down the street towards the familiar black car tapping quickly on the passenger window to get his attention before sliding in the car. “Happy to see me?” Harry beamed at her, his smile just as big as hers getting a elbow to the ribs lightly before she leaned over to kiss him, a good dramatic smacking kiss with a dramatic ‘mwah!’ at the end. Harry swears his girlfriend is the most adorable thing to ever walk this earth.

“Silly tonight are we, baby?” his tone was teasing, putting the car in reverse putting his hand on the back of her headrest to get a good view out his rear window- he didn’t feel like getting in another fender bender and have to cough up the money for whoever he bothered. “ ‘m just happy to see my squishy Hazzy boy! I’m excited to love on ya’, kiss your cute squishy face and play with the little Harry in your pants.” The boy snorted, shaking his head with a breathy laugh as he pulled onto the pain road “I’m happy to see yeh too lovie, and for the record he’s not little he’s well above average and didn’t appreciate that comment missy” he pointed a sassy finger at the girl who giggled, lightly biting the tip of it before giving it a nice harsh suck, releasing it after. “you are going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”

The pair made it safe and sound to the Styles home, Anne taking the night shift so the two teens had the house till the morning, so of course they planned to take full advantage of that luxury.

“Baby, baby let’s at least get the door open till yeh jump my bones yea?” Harry was fumbling to get his keys in the door, his girlfriend standing on her toes to kiss his neck distracting him from the task at hand. “But I loveeeeeeeeeeee you, I want to kiss my boyfriend!” “you can! Give m’ a second please” he managed to get the two in the house, locking the door behind him while his baby tugged on the hem of his shirt. Her adorable pout only made the boy smile when he looked down at her, wrapping his arms around her waist giving her a few kisses before hiking her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist, arms looping around his neck a bright smile on her face. “God, you’re cute. Missed holdin’ my girl.” “think you could hold m’ and fuck me in the air?” Y/n teased the boy getting a eye roll in return, “I thought I was supposed to be the horn dog, I think you might be the teenage boy instead of me miss thang” Harry chuckled setting her back down so they could make their journey up the steps, “Hey I can’t help my boyfriends hot as fuck, and I haven’t got to play with his pp in a week! I wanna touch my boyfriend’s weenie” their combined giggles echoed in the empty house, following them into the boys room when he swung the door open “Okay can we not refer to my junk as a weenie? That’s a bit of a boner killer, don’t yeh think?” , “I’m the one who puts your penis in my mouth, I can call it what I want mister.”

Harry really didn’t have a solid argument against that one.

“fair enough, yeh want it bad don’t you?” the joking atmosphere seemed to switch instantly, his tone now deeper and suggestive making a whine rumble from y/n’s throat that went straight to Harry’s cock. “Tell me, tell me what you want sweetheart..” the boy inched towards the bed his girlfriend was laying on, painfully slow teasing the poor girl further knowing dominant Harry was coming out tonight and she didn’t call the shots anymore. “Yes, I want your cock Hazzy please. I need it.” Harry hummed slightly, making his way to the edge of the bed knees bumping his girlfriends slightly. “you need it huh? Go on, take m’ cock out princess.”

y/n wasted no time, darting her hands forward to yank his belt from it’s loops. The leather made a delicious snapping noise whilst it was ripped from the boys hips the need growing inside her with every second that passes. With a slight fumbling of her excited fingers she managed to unzip him and tug his jeans down his legs, Harry kicking them off his ankles, turning his attention back to his eager girlfriend who was tugging his boxers down to free his semi-hard length, making eye contact with her as she waited for her next direction.

“Don’t give me those innocent eyes baby, you were just begging for my cock. Open your mouth, don’t act shy now honey.” A sultry smirk tugging the right side of his mouth up at the corner while watching his girlfriend take hold of his member to slide it into her pretty little mouth. Y/n was too needy to go slow, her suckling was strong the bobbing of her head going quick working hard to get him fully hard for her. it obviously didn’t take long, Harry had missed her touch as much as she missed his, soon enough his cock stood at it’s full 9 inches pushing against the flesh over her cheeks every few bobs. “God, mouth feels fuckin’ great. Wanna feel that throat before I fuck yeh, you know what to do.”

Y/n was moaning even without getting any stimulation to where she needed it, seeing her man bossing her around was enough to make her feel like she could come on the spot. She followed her instructions, taking in a nice deep breath and holding it, keeping her throat open as Harry pushed his cock all the way down her throat giving her cheek a light tap as he felt her jaw instinctively trying to close when her gag reflex was triggered effectively getting her to keep it relaxed while the tip of his cock massaged itself deep down her throat. Harry gave a good few strokes into her open throat, just enough to make him feel good and make sure she has a sore throat to remember him by for a few days after before pulling out pushing her back onto his mattress.

Y/n giggled slightly as her boyfriend quickly tugged her clothes from her body, pausing to tug his own shirt over his head then shuffling to lay on his stomach between her legs. He was face to face with her dripping cunt, the organ a bit swollen and flushed from being so turned on, he could tell just by looking at it that she must be aching. “Please Harry…please don’t tease me I need you.” Her pitiful voice and harsh tugs of his locks got Harry even more riled up, plunging his tongue between her folds lapping up the wetness that had already collected giving a nice strong suckle to her engorged clit getting the girl to squirm, legs trying to close as pretty moans tumbled out of her mouth. “God Harry- ah fuck-wa-wait wait I wanna cum with you in me. St- oh my god- stop I’m not gonna last!” her pleads fell on deaf ears, Harry deciding he wanted her to cum now. The relentless pleasuring giving her no choice but to tip over the ledge stars dotting her vision, her first orgasm in over a week was a fucking good one.

Once Harry was satisfied, he shuffled the both of them further towards his headboard, roughly opening his bedside table drawer to pull out a condom making quick work of sliding it down himself positioning himself back between her legs, not able to stop himself from slamming into her fully. The girl gasped, feeling the tip of his cock push into her cervix from how hard he thrust into her all 9 inches of him sheathed inside her walls now. Everything seemed to happen so fast, the hammering of his hips into hers the moaning and curses and both of their eventual orgasms brought on by the touch of each other.

y/n was brought back to reality when Harry’s sweaty body dropped on top of her, pulling himself out of her to rest his softening cock between their bodies as they caught their breath numerous ‘I love you’s’ and ‘you felt so good’ being mumbled between them.

y/n decided this was definitely worth having to sneak around for.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles blurb #blurb night #harry style drabble #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut

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caddy-whump-us · 4 years ago

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Finally got Etienne fitted with that leg brace. I guess that makes bad things better. Maybe. Hey, @voidwhump! Get slurpin'!

This is more angst and character stuff than "typical" whump, but I do love me some angst. Also, there’s a trip in the near future for all the lads, so that’s exciting too. Stay tuned.

For reference, I was looking at these two leg braces. (Having done some research, I'm now like 98% sure there's a fetish related to Victorian/vintage leg braces, which I didn't know about before. I don't want to yuck someone else's yum, I'd just like to thank them for sharing photographs for the sake of my whump writing. )

---

There was a fire in the grate, but less for the warmth than to stave off the damp. It had been raining all day and now, with the household awake with nightfall, a storm was sweeping in.

They were in the library--not the grand library, but the small library, the study. It was darker here, warmer in an almost human way. The grand library was for show (so of course that would be where Viktor would display Etienne along with other parts of his collection) but the small library was for true work. Viktor was at his desk and writing diligently. Etienne he had set in an armchair before the fire with his ruined leg resting on a footstool. Etienne slouched and dangled his hands over the arms of the chair. Viktor paid no mind.

There was a knock at the door and even Etienne turned to see who would trouble this quiet room on a night like this.

"Come."

The candles flickered and swayed when Lucien opened the door. His shirtcollar was undone again. For all that he would dutifully wear his master's livery day after day, he never quite wore it as it was intended: this undone, that unlaced, the sleeves rolled. Perhaps they all rebelled in their own ways.

Except that, if he was to be believed, Lucien came willingly into this house.

His eyes were shining like moonstones again in the candlelight. "The doctor is here, my lord." And he held the door open to let the crow-masked doctor into the room before creeping away again.

Viktor set down his pen and laced his fingers together. The fire glittered in his eyes.

"To come on such a night," he said. "I hadn't expected it to turn worse. I kept waiting to hear you wouldn't be coming. How is the storm?"

"Settling in for a stay, by the looks of it," the doctor replied. "You seem more bothered by it than me. Does it keep you trapped inside?" A bird-like cock of the head.

Viktor said nothing for a moment, holding the crow-mask in a cold look, then turned to look toward where Etienne was slumped and sullen in the armchair. "Some of us feel more trapped than others, I think, even when the truth is otherwise."

"Oh, now now, my lord. He can still be called a convalescent for the moment. He's not yet malingering." A pause. "Yet."

Viktor said nothing, only took up his pen again, but he did not yet turn back to his work.

"Now then," the doctor said.

"Use the table there, if you like," Viktor said, pointing to one not so far from where Etienne sat.

Etienne, for his part, was looking into the fire.

The doctor came to him and patted at his arm. "Come now." And he turned to Viktor. "He does look miserable. But we'll have him on his feet soon."

Etienne snorted and turned away.

"But we will, dear boy. The cobbler, the brass-worker, the tanner--they've all been hard at work for you."

"Along with the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick-maker, I suppose."

The doctor pulled back. "There's no call to be rude, no matter how bad you might feel."

Etienne scoffed again. "Every time you visit, I feel worse."

The doctor grabbed him by the shoulder and Etienne turned to be nose to nose with the crow mask.

"Don't forget that I fed you from the poppies. I have heard the screams of those who have not been afforded such a mercy, and you were nearly one of those. Now get up for me."

Etienne did, shaken but still sullen. His crutch was leaned against the side of the chair and he stumbled up to stand as well as he could, and less well today than on drier days.

The doctor had set a black case, nearly a trunk, on the table. The hat, the coat, the mask all but blocked Etienne's view of what was in the trunk as the doctor opened it. Something gleamed. The doctor laid something out on the table. Viktor rose to inspect it and even Etienne tried to glimpse it from over the doctor's shoulder.

"Your thoughts, my lord?"

"I think we ought to ask Etienne."

The doctor turned to him with one hand outstretched and Etienne hobbled to the table.

Laid out on the table was a brace for his bad leg: a heavy shoe at the bottom, sitting in a kind of brass stirrup, jointed for his knee, and secured with brass and leather belts. Etienne stared at it as Viktor and the doctor spoke around him.

"A rather complicated contraption, I admit, but the best that could be done, all things considered."

"Will he still need the crutch?"

"I should think not, so long as he's wearing the brace. He may want for a cane, though. For balance."

"He won't have one. He'd do better to learn how to walk again."

The doctor made an obsequious bow.

"Put it on him. Let's see if it improves on the crutch."

The doctor bowed again then pointed at Etienne's foot. "Take that off. You won't need that one anymore. You have a new shoe to wear."

Etienne hobbled back to the armchair to take off his shoe and the doctor came to him bearing the contraption in both hands. It put Etienne in mind of scaffolding, brass scaffolding. He let fall the shoe.

The doctor opened the cage of the contraption, tossing straps and buckles out of the way. Etienne threaded his foot down towards the shoe; the doctor met him halfway and jammed the contraption onto him. Etienne gasped and pinched his eyes shut.

"Hush, now. It isn't so bad as that," the doctor said as they began closing up the brass plates around his ankle. He took out a brass pin, adjusted the length, set it again, sat back, adjusted again.

Etienne was fighting for balance in the midst of these adjustments. He staggered, and the doctor caught him by his good leg.

"If I could just--" and he reached toward where he had leaned his crutch against the chair.

"No more of that," Viktor said. He picked it up and carried it to his desk, laying it flat across the top. "No more need for that."

The doctor went on until he was content with the length of the brass that ran down inside and outside of Etienne's leg. He buckled the brass into place at his ankle then moved up to buckle the first leather cuff--but not only leather, as Etienne could already feel the brass or steel or boning in it. The doctor jerked it tight and it pressed just at a sore point in Etienne's shin. He cried out a little but the doctor hushed him.

"You'd best get used to it."

Etienne leaned hard on his good leg and bit at his lip while the doctor tightened the buckles.

"Now the knee," the doctor said, "It always a bit of a trick. How can one let it bend in the most natural way while still providing the necessary restriction?"

Etienne felt that last word, restriction, rattle in his chest.

"This, my lord, is why I sought out the help of a saddle-maker. Or, well, bridle-maker more specifically. This joint, here, has more in common with a horse's bit than one might assume."

Viktor stood by, watching, saying nothing.

"And here, if you will notice, we align the knee--" and Etienne whined again "--with what might be thought of as a saddle on the knee and the girth behind it."

And the doctor buckled the whole into place, tightened it, but then turned another brass piece up from the back of the leg, from the cuff he'd finished buckling already.

"Obviously, though, there needs to be a bit more support. Therefore--are you following all of this, dear boy? You'll need to if you're to dress yourself. Therefore, we attach this curved brace to the sides of the knee so as to prevent the knee from bending backwards."

"I've not had that problem," Etienne said.

The doctor stopped and turned their beaked mask up to him. "Then perhaps you would like to continue without me."

Etienne looked aside and was quiet.

"No? Very well then." And he hooked the half-hoop around the back of Etienne's knee, a kind of stint to hold his knee in place.

"Now, as per your suggestions, my lord, I have decided to continue this brace up nearly to the hip so as to provide as much structure for this leg as is possible, especially as he begins to walk again. In this instance, as you can likely see, I employed a corset-maker."

The doctor was whipping the lacing out of the last cuff on the brace, high on Etienne's leg, before wrapping the leather around and lacing it up again. They tugged and pulled, shifted the lacing, tightened it down, and tied it off.

The doctor sat back on their heels and considered not Etienne but only his leg.

"Well, it's on. But I'll need to make a few adjustments." And he took out a small kit of tools from the trunk on the table.

Etienne had turned his face up towards the dark ceiling. His knee was pulled too straight and the parts of his shin and leg that ached worst when he tried to sleep or when, like tonight, it rained were aching but with a sharpness he'd not felt since his leg was newly broken.

"It's quite an elaborate construction," Viktor said.

The doctor was punching a new hole in one of the straps to tighten it further. Etienne gasped again when he closed the buckle again.

"He did quite a lot of damage to his leg, my lord," the doctor replied.

Etienne cast a cold, hard look at Viktor. But Viktor's face was still placid, curious at the brace and the procedure of fitting it.

The doctor sat back of their heels again.

"Better," they said. "But even with that much brass--there are plates and rods in the leather you see, my lord--the leather may be inclined to stretch. Permit me to return in a week to make any more adjustments?"

"Of course."

The doctor bowed their head and began to collect their tools.

"Well, sweet boy?" Viktor said. "Perhaps you'd like to take a turn about the room."

Etienne looked toward the chair in front of the fire, only a few steps away. The doctor was leaning against the table and watching. Viktor, too, was watching with one finger idly at his mouth.

So Etienne took a step, first with his good leg then, hesitantly and stiffly, with his braced leg. His foot in the shoe of the brace tipped into place flatly, inelegantly, slapping on the floor. If it was better than the crutch it was not much better.

His knee still felt strained and the cuff on his shin made him ache worse now that he was standing on his braced leg. Wincing, he tried to bend his knee back into place, tried to turn his foot to ease the ache.

"The brass is there to realign your leg, you know," the doctor called. "Let it do what it is intended to do." And as they turned back to the trunk: "A lesson a great many of us could learn."

Etienne was reaching for the chair with his braced leg straining. He lifted his good leg and moved it, balancing for a moment only on his braced leg. He took a step. Then another--an easier one; he had long been balancing on his good leg with the crutch. Two steps more, good and bad, and he reached the wing of the armchair and clutched at it.

He stood there, leaning there, lifting his braced leg to test the knee, the ankle, to see how well he could walk if he could just practice long enough. Perhaps he could walk up and down the long dining room. Perhaps along the garden paths. With enough practice perhaps he would even be able, despite this leather and brass contraption, to run again.

"The knee swings too easily," the doctor said and came at the brace with a tool like a knife. He tightened up the joint and Etienne groaned through his teeth again.

Suddenly Viktor was there behind him, squeezing at his neck and shoulders with his long, cold hands. "Do you see? You cannot escape. Even after you've healed, you cannot escape. Even with everything you might need to walk again, you will not be able to run from me."

#whump #medical #captivity #injuries #aftermath #viktor #etienne #vampires

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mistymark · 6 years ago

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the one with the blocked drain pipe.

nakamoto yuta x reader // 1.7k words // ex-fwb!au // neighbour!au // requested

summary; in which a blocked shower drain causes y/n to turn up on Yuta’s doorstep in nothing but a towel

warnings; swearing, making out, sexual references (but no smut)

“Can I use your shower?” The door hadn’t even opened fully yet, and you weren’t bothering with any kind of greeting.

Yuta took in your appearance; wet hair and sudsy, a towel wrapped tightly around your body as you dripped water onto the floor of the corridor. He raised an eyebrow at you, “You’re dripping water on my doormat.”

“Can I use your shower?” You repeated your question, your voice laced with desperation, hoping he would get the message that you really needed to use his shower.

He nodded and stepped backwards slightly, opening the door enough for you to enter. “You know where it is.” Yawning, he shut the door behind you, making his way back over to his couch.

You tried not to think about how weird it was to be showering in Yuta’s apartment, considering the casual hook-ups you’d had in the past. You’d never stayed at his apartment for enough time to warrant shower use, and it felt only a little bit strange that the first time you’d used his shower would be when you were almost strangers. It was almost 10pm, and if it weren’t for your blocked shower drain, you wouldn’t have been here.

More so, if it weren’t for the fact that Yuta was the only person your age in the building – that you knew – you wouldn’t have been here. How unlucky it was that you hadn’t made more friends when you moved in.

You turned off the tap to the shower, the conditioner now washed completely out of your hair, and reached for the clothes you’d left on the counter.

In your bathroom.

Shit, you thought, staring around his bathroom for your towel, which was already soaked and sitting in a wet pile on the floor.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Hey, Yuta?”

“Yeah?” You heard him pause the TV to hear you better.

“I, um, left my clothes in my room,” you felt yourself cringing at your own request, “Can I borrow-?”

There was silence on the other side of the door. You hoped he understood what you were asking for.

A few moments later, the door opened, only enough for a hand to reach in and blindly place a pile of folded clothes on the counter. It closed softly again.

You smiled at the pile, recognising one of the sweaters as the one he wore the first time you kissed him, and later threw on his bedroom floor. Slipping the soft material over your head, you quickly ran your fingers through your wet hair before sliding a pair of his loose black sweatpants over your legs.

Content, you stepped out of the bathroom.

Yuta’s head lifted at the sound of the door opening, momentarily causing him to put the milk down on the counter from where he was pouring it into a mug of tea. “Woah.”

You laughed, “Woah? What is that supposed to mean?”

He let out a breath, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek as he watched you walk towards him, dumping the socks and t-shirt he left for you onto the small wooden table. “Woah like…” he thought about it. “Woah like you look sexy as hell in my clothes.” He’d never seen you in his clothes, as most of the times you’d come over you had mostly spent your time making out on his bed – or doing other things on his bed. You’d never had time for romance; Yuta had never been your boyfriend, so he’d never acted like one. But right now, he wished he’d given you his clothes a lot earlier.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the smile from forming on your face, “More like woah, you just wanna get into my pants.”

“Actually, those are my pants,” he pointed out, picking up the milk carton again to finish preparing his tea. He could tell you were trying to hide your smile.

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. “You’re right. I’ll head upstairs and change and then come and return your clothes-”

“You can stay if you want,” Yuta was leaning against the kitchen counter, his signature smirk playing on his lips as he sipped from the black mug in his hands. He shrugged, “I haven’t seen you in ages, and I think I’m owed an explanation as to why the girl I used to fuck showed up on my doormat in nothing but a towel at ten o’clock at night.”

You raised your eyebrows at his words. He’d never been someone to sugar-coat. “My drain got blocked, it was too late to call a plumber and you’re the only person in this building I feel comfortable with enough to shower in their apartment,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Yuta seemed surprised by your words, “I’m the one you feel most comfortable with?”

“Well, I guess. I mean, you have already seen me naked,” you shrugged nonchalantly, but wrapped your arms around your torso, a dead giveaway that you felt slightly anxious by the fact. You couldn’t forget how trusting you’d been of Yuta, and how much he knew about you. It had been two months since you’d last seen him, two months since you’d last spent the night in his apartment and you had to admit how much you missed him. It was too much for your liking.

“And wouldn’t mind seeing it again,” he quirked an eyebrow at you over his mug.

You ignored the flipping of your heart as you pretended not to hear him, “So what have you been up to?”

It was well past 2am, and maybe it was the fact that you were a little tipsy, but Yuta was starting to look more and more attractive again.

It also meant that you were feeling a lot stuffier than normal, the alcohol in your veins causing your cheeks to flush and the material of Yuta’s clothes to feel hotter.

“I’m really hot,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Yuta, whose tolerance to alcohol was apparently a lot higher than yours, grabbed the bottle from the table and put it away before you could try and drink some more. He hummed in response.

“I’m really hot,” you repeated, watching with satisfaction as he came to sit next to you on the couch, his leg pressing against yours. You smiled down at where you touched.

He laughed at your intense focus, “Are you okay?” He pulled his leg away, causing you to pout and put your hand on his knee, tugging it back to its original position against yours.

“Can I take my pants off?”

His eyes widened, “What?”

“Is that okay? It’s too stuffy, but obviously, I don’t want to take off my sweater. Well, your sweater-” you rambled.

He smiled down at you, amused by your rambling, his voice quiet, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

You smiled happily, standing up to reach under the sweater that dwarfed your frame to find the elastic band around your waist. Slowly, so you wouldn’t accidentally lift too much of the sweater, you tugged the pants down your legs, leaving them to pool at your ankles before stepping out.

Looking up at Yuta to ask where to put them, you took in his appearance; his slightly red cheeks, his eyes wide as he stared at you, his lip caught between his teeth. Your lips quirked up into a sly smile, “What?”

He quickly averted his gaze, “Huh? Er, nothing.” He glanced at you swiftly, “Just…that was kinda hot.”

You blame what you did next on Fredwich Vodka and the large small part of you that was still really attracted to Yuta. Come to think of it, the alcohol was probably wearing off, its grasp slipping from your mind.

Keeping your eyes trained on his face for any signs of hesitation, you slowly stepped forward and pushed one knee into the couch beside him, throwing your other leg over his body so that you were hovering over him, practically straddling him.

“Okay, wow, that was really hot,” he breathed, his hands coming up to find purchase on your hips.

You smiled, satisfied with his words. Slowly, you bent down a fraction to nudge his nose with yours, lips ghosting over his – so close that you could feel his slightly-heavier-than-normal breathing.

He leant upwards, tilting his head to connect your lips with his. As soon as you begun to kiss him back, his grip on your hips tightened, pulling you forwards so that your chest was flush against his.

The way he kissed you made you firmly decide that you weren’t drunk, nor tipsy, because the way his lips felt against yours made your head cloudy in ways the alcohol hadn’t before. You felt his tongue run along your bottom lip and your mouth opened slightly in shock, giving him the perfect opportunity for him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

When you were certain you couldn’t go without breathing for any longer, you pulled back, breathing heavily, a small chuckle leaving your lips, “I knew you just wanted to get into my pants.”

He leant his head back against the couch to look up at you, his hands still on your hips, before letting his eyes fall to the side, his hands soon following suit, dropping to rest by your legs on the couch, “Nah, not tonight.”

Instantly, you felt yourself recoil slightly, believing this was his polite way of saying he never wanted to do that again. “Oh,” was all you said.

He noticed your sudden change of heart, “What? Oh, no. No, I meant…I don’t want to fuck – um, I meant…” His hands reached up again, to hold onto your waist, as if to keep your attention. Little did he know, he already had it. “Do you want to go on a date?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise; Yuta, the boy you went to for casual hook-ups two months ago, was now asking you on a date. Last you checked, Yuta didn’t do dates.

He stared up at you, his fingers nervously tangling into the sweater you wore

You felt yourself smile as you leant down to kiss him again, “I’d love to.”

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

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A Girl Walks Into A Bar 13

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)

Summary: Modern Declan harp AU. Declan plans a date and hopes it goes well. It goes so well neither of them wants it to end.

Warnings/Tags: Mild. Language. Date Night. Bella softening up and stepping up! Maybe they finally kiss?

Click on my screen name then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! It makes me want to write more of what you want if you let me know!

Thanks to Bella’s stellar work ethic, she was able to concentrate despite the buzzing in the back of her skull. With her still highly suspicious coworkers she managed to avoid questions with glares, but the bravest and admittedly closest to her, CeeCee, wasn’t convinced.

She stands in Bella’s doorway after hours, door open for the 4th day in a row. She’d been playing old Motown all day, they’d even caught her dancing and singing to herself in the studio, chewing on a pen and swinging her hips as she read over papers.

“Alright. Who is he? Or her, what the hell do I know?” CeeCee shrugs.

Bella's eyes shoot up from her clipboard, looking wide at her ballsy business partner. “What?” she asks with no inflection.

“I’m not stupid. I know you. I have eyes. You’re happy about something.” she says with a jutted forward chin, giving Bella tight lips that show her obviousness.

Bella only stares, her eyes under a deep set brow.

“The Motown all day? Singing and dancing to yourself? I even saw you smile at your phone today. You tell me nothing is going on I’m gonna tell you you’re full of shit.” Her bold statement delivered with a back and forth of her head.

“Then save us bother the time and tell me that then.” Bella snaps back quickly.

“UGH.” she throws her head back dramatically. “Fuckin’ Scorpios I swear to GOD!” she groans and turns to leave. Bella smirks as she returns back to her checklist.

----

All Declan had told her was to dress comfortably and for movement. To say she was curious was an understatement. She’d suggested something fun that would help her forget the hard week she’d had. While it had been tough, there was something different, something that kept her mood from crashing despite the workload and meetings. She’d not told him about that part though.

With his advice in mind, she’d dressed comfortably. She struggled to find the balance between form and function, fussing over if she looked “cute” enough. Which was something she hadn’t weighed in many years. But he made her want to consider things like that again. He brought out something in her that made her want to be feminine. After years of leather and denim, of hard brows and severe hair, she’d found herself shifting. This was also something CeeCee noticed. She’d even worn a dress to work more than once in the past week, and on a non-meeting day. Wearing her hair down and loose, softer make up in lighter colors and less black, she felt a part of her opening up that hadn’t since she was young. Her armor of leather not feeling as needed when she had him around, she didn’t feel the need to protect herself so much. She knew she was in good company.

Declan makes it to her house, the roar of a motorcycle surprising her as she fussed over Robbie before having to be out the evening.

“You’re fucking kidding me?” she scoffs out a playful laugh. She watches him pull up on an old bike, something like her dad would’ve ridden when she was small. A surprising shade of turquoise, but what was more surprising was how he looked.

He was no stranger to showing more skin in the warmer months, just like her, but riding a bike requires a bare minimum of coverage to still be responsible. Plus maybe he’d gone to the gym every day this past week, gone up to the woods and started clearing out his stomping grounds of the winter build up. Maybe he’d wanted to look good for her. She was making him consider his appearance just the same as he was her. He hoped he succeeded, as he knew she’d look good to him no matter what.

She wracked her brain for the long since buried information on motorcycles she had from her childhood. Her dad having his and treating it like a member of the family before his wreck. After it he’d dabbled a bit here and there, helping friends work on theirs. But he’d kept being a fan of them, trading road trips for magazines as he got older. She gets washed over with an odd, warm nostalgia. She thinks of the old pictures of her parents, him in his leather jacket and her in her bell bottoms and flowing dresses. She wonders if this was what her mom had felt like when big Sandro had rolled up to take her out all those years ago. A deep pull in her gut that she didn’t want to acknowledge told her yes.

She jumps and shakes out the nerves. “Be cool. Be cool.” She whispers, stretching her arms and neck as he makes his way to the door. “Be cool. You can do this. It’s just a date.” It was a date right? Shit, had he said date? She knew he liked her, no room for wondering there, the almost kiss was still burned into her mind. So it was a date. Or was he going slow? Was he going slow because of her or because he wanted to? Her brow furrows and she scratches her big wavy hair, falling past her collar bones now as she’d opted out of the usual spring cut. The doorbell makes her jump and she rolls her eyes at herself in harsh judgment. She counts to ten slowly and breathes, then goes for the door.

Declan stood with gleaming shoulders in the late afternoon sun. His tank top long and loose, faded over dark jeans and his usual shit-kicking boots and chain. The leather vest was something she’d not seen him in before and to say she was a fan was an understatement. She wonders if there’s more leather where it came from and if he had a collection to rival hers. She doubted it but filed the curiosity to his kinks away for later.

“Hey, Babe.” She greets first and boldly, pulling the door back to welcome him in.

“Hey Bells.” A broad closed mouth smile that makes his eyes nearly disappear comes across his face at the sight of her. A dress cut in at the waist with a little ditzy floral print of white and yellow against a black background reminds him of some cool girl from a 90s sitcom. It brushed at her knees and he saw her same little boots loose around her ankles. With effortless hair and makeup, he wanted to hold her against him and feel that softness. The cotton of her dress under his hands as he leaned in to hug her, the warm berry vanilla scent of her as he kissed her cheek and made her blush as she side-eyes him before moving away.

“Gonna grab my purse. Say hi to Robbie if you want. He missed you.” She tells over her shoulder with a tone that suggested he wasn’t the only one.

“I’ve missed him.” He responds in a deep and even voice, Robbie already loudly announcing his presence and rubbing between Declan’s legs. “Hey, baby dude.” He mrmurs with a scratch to his fluffy butt. Robbie purrs in approval.

“Alright.” she announces with a black leather crossbody bag to match the jacket. Warm for the weather but she wouldn’t get on a bike without it.

“I know I said comfy but, I don’t know if a dress will work for what I’ve got in mind.” He responds with a hesitant face.

“Oh, I’m prepared.” She responds proudly, hand reaching down to lift the hem of her dress to show shorts underneath. “Got bike shorts underneath.” She grins.

“Always prepared huh?” He nods in approval.

“I try.” She smiles sweetly, bending to pet Robbie one last time. “We’ll be back, kay? I put your catnip toy on the bed for you.” She coos at him, taking out her keys.oo

“Hope you don’t mind.” He says, shrugging to the bike.

“I should’ve known you had a bike really. Black Wolf and all.” She answers, putting her keys and zipping shut her purse. “But you’d never mentioned it.”

“I don’t ride her in the winter. Well, not this one anyway.”

“She special?” Bella asks as he moves to grab a helmet out of studded leather saddle bag

“The most.”

“So this is the woman I’m competing with huh?” She chuckles.

He feels his face flush slightly, thankful for the color he’s gotten in the woods the past week to hide it, skin now a warm-toned tan that caught the sun like a dream. Bella wanted to run her fingertips down those muscled arms and feel every curve of muscle he’d earned. “Yeah. My first love.” He explains after clearing his throat. “First bike.” He clarifies, handing her a black matte helmet, same as his. “My mom hated it, so I painted it her favorite color as a way to suck up to her.” He grins at the memory.

“Did it work?”

“Eh. Not really.” He fully laughs and mounts the bike, holding his hand out to her. “You got it?”

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about me. Dad had bikes growing up.”

“Seriously?”

“Mm hmm.”

“Ugh. Lucky.” He remarks, getting out his keys and readying his foot to kick off. “You gotta tell me about that later.”

“Can do.” She nods with her helmet on, now fearlessly wrapping her arms around him, the warmth of his stomach and chest against her palms and fingertips as the unbelievably soft shirt shifted in between her fingers with the flutter of the wind. He wasn’t reckless or fast and she appreciated it greatly. It’d been decades since she’d been on a bike.

They pull up and Bella peels herself from the hot skin of his leather vest, looking forward to seeing all of in motion as she’d gotten her fair share of his arms during the ride. Although driving out of town had been an unexpected but lovely detour, the site of his arms, which up close rivaled the tree trunks on the sides of the two-lane road they rode on. They pull up to a long line of fencing. His bike not the only one there, but by far the coolest in her opinion.

“Forest Fortress?” She states out loud with a wrinkle of her nose in question as she shakes out her hair from her helmet.

“So you haven’t been here before. Good.” He proudly declares and takes her helmet.

“You gonna tell me what it is or do I have to keep waiting?” She smiles.

“Have you ever played paintball, Bella?” He asks, half bent and securing the helmet in the saddle bag.

“No, but I’ve played laser tag.” She offers.

“Think of it as laser tag that hurts.” He laughs.

“So this is a paintball place?” Her brows go up and she shakes out her dress.

“Hope that’s okay.”

“Hell yeah it’s okay.” She answers with a big grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet slightly. “My legs are gonna get totally fucked though.” She lets out an amused noise.

“Nah, they have protective gear you can use. Wouldn’t have let you leave in that if I thought I’d be bringing you back all bruised. Robbie would never let me live it down.” He kids with a straight face and she manages to suppress a girlish giggle at him beaming a killer smile her way.

With his charisma and gentle guidance, he found that smile that he was worried might only exist at the festival still fully engaged as they went through the steps of putting on gear and teaching her how to use the guns. People knew him there, half bro hugs and slaps to the back in greeting all the way until they were both equipped and ready to head out into the obstacle course.

“So you do want to be on the same team or different ones?” The guy at the last stop before the entrance asks, knowing she was a newbie.

Before Declan can even turn to look at her she answers definitely “Different.” With a big and challenging smile.

“Look at the balls on this one.” the guy laughs and slaps a blue stripe on her gear. “And red for you D.” He remarks with a firm slap to his back. “Clean fight guys. You heard the rules.” He commands and opens the gate to reveal a scattered and varied series of wooden and rope courses in a fenced-in area of the forest. A rainbow of paint colors splatted all over everything. Tarps, haybales, stacks of giant tires, it was essentially a playground for adults. Which was a perfect choice in Bella’s eyes as she scurried away as soon as they crossed the threshold much to Declan's surprise. He was more than thrilled with her enthusiasm for his choice and the feisty competitive behavior it was bringing out in her.

The alarm blares and the shots start. She decides to keep an eye out for Declan, but take out anyone else if they popped up. She took out one person, her smaller size and workout routine she’d amped up for the warmer months helping her out. Declan was at a disadvantage with his height, she would see his back arched and bobbing around but could never get him head-on. So she uses the pole dancing classes to her advantage and shimmies up behind a terrace, thighs burning as she aims and misses. He whips around fast and sees nothing and she decides to just have some fun and jumps on his back, the unexpected attack knocking him to the ground as he hears her distinct laugh from on top of him as he moves to face her.

“Got ya bitch.” She snorts and laughs.

“Jesus Christ Bella!” He mutters out as he scrambles. “Where you even fuckin' come from?”

“Always look high.” She answers rolling off him as she keeps laughing quietly to not draw more attention to them.

“You didn’t shoot me though.” He grins wickedly and holds his gun up to her.

“I missed.” she shrugs. “Worth it though.” She leans back and sighs and smiles at him.

Well dammit, now he didn’t want to shoot her, laid back looking all soft and smiling at him.

“But you haven’t shot me either.” she raises a brow and grins, gun pointing at his chest now.

“Seems we’re at an impasse partner.” he says with a cowboy twang that makes her snort.

“If we eliminate each other, we can start over, or go back to town and eat. If we don’t, we have to walk 10 paces and try our luck with everyone else.” she replies with a playful wrinkle of her nose.

“I am hungry.” he answers with a pout of his lips.

“You know I am.” she smirks.

“A truce? A duel?”

“A...betrayl?” she tilts her head, finger on the trigger as another alarmingly charming smile comes across his face.

He flinches like he’s going to shoot her, only wanted to get her to wince and give her shit for it, but instead he knocks her gun and sets it off when he startles her, shooting him in the thigh. “Oh shit!” She squeaks, covering her mouth and sitting up as he balls up and groans. “Please tell me I didn’t just shoot you in the dick.” she begs with a serious face that makes him contorted up in discomfort, snort and laugh loudly.

“Glad to say you did not.” he groans.

“Oh, thank God.” she exhales sharply, rubbing his arm and frowning. “I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, nah I know. My fault.” he shakes his head. “Guns involved. Shouldn’t have fucked around.” he grunts out, sitting up. “It fuckin’ hurt but I’ll live. Be a nasty bruise. That was so fuckin’ close.” he lets out a pained chuckle.

“Yeah that had to hurt, dude, I'm so sorry.” she gives him an entirely genuine apologetic face, leaned in close to his that was still grimacing as he rubbed his leg.

“I’ll live.” he gives her an exhale and a nod, giving a good show of his words. “Well you know what might help?” he says, leaning and looking at the splat of paint.

“What?” she asks so earnestly he feels guilty already.

“You could kiss it and make it better.” he responds with a straight face and she shoves his shoulder so hard he hits the ground, forcing out a laugh from his chest.

“Maybe later.” she rolls her eyes and stands, dusting off her legs. “You fuckin’ goof.” she shakes her head and reaches her hand down to him. “Timer’s about to go off.” she nods towards the large LED board above the box where the scorekeeper watched.

They walk with his arm around her shoulders back towards the front, her arm around him as if she were helping him along.

“The 'ol seduce and betray. I like it.” the guy at the front holds his hand up for a high five as she passes.

“Oh fuck you Kyle.” Declan bellows out.

“Thanks.” Bella grins wide and answers the guy's gesture enthusiastically.

Since she’s mildly maimed him, they decide to go eat instead of going for another round. The energy sourced of nearly an hour hunting other humans had taken its toll on them both. The same closeness, the same warmth, and smiles they’d grown so fond of from each other over more junk food in a shitty little diner he liked. They talked bike’s, his and the ones she’d ridden, the ones her dad worked on, how he’d wrecked and her mother wouldn’t let him ride now out of worry. He learned about her family a bit and was glad to see she’d had a good upbringing, parents still alive and together, something he’d always wanted in a family and for himself. At that small table in the crowded room that felt like no one else was around, they sat and talked for nearly two hours without even checking the time or their phones, it felt to oddly effortless. They both felt heard and like they were interesting to someone else. They talked about nature, about music, sharing their favorite things that everyone else told them they talked too much about.

So when the time came for Bella to go home, her gut was telling her no. In fact, it was screaming it at her. He’d left with another cheek kiss and a tight hug, proving to her he was more than decent. She watches his broad shoulders slumped, jacket now on to guard against the night chill as he rode, his hands shoved into his jean pockets and biting his lip, wondering if he should’ve kissed her.

'You can’t let him leave', her conscience tells her. 'Don’t let him leave. This day was damn near perfect. You KNOW he wants it and you’re brave enough to admit you do too. Just… get his attention. Do something.' Her brain scurries and her throat turns to stone, her mouth open and trying but her nerves wanting to keep her quiet. It would be real if she made a sound. It would turn into more if she called out for him. Knowing you’re living a defining moment is funny. You can let fear freeze you, taking the easy way out, or you call push your cards all in on the table and win big. Or lose everything. But isn’t a life lived with failures better than a life lived with what if’s?

“Declan.” she forces out, the keys in her hand shaking from her nerves, not even moved to be put in the door.

He shuts his eyes for just a second, hiding the relief on his face. God, he had wanted to say something. “Yeah?” he asks over his shoulder, his hair soft around his shoulders, skin still warm and seemingly glowing in the sconces by the door and the solar pikes in the ground along her walkway despite the sun being long gone.

“I-” she starts and doesn’t know where she’s going. But she started. That was like half of the job, wasn’t it? “I don’t... uh...” she licks her lips and puts her keys back in her purse. “I don’t really wanna go home yet.” she manages, looking down before meeting his eyes.

“Oh.” he says, hiding his delight with pursed lips and a nod. “Well that’s, y’know, fine with me.” he shrugs and turns fully towards her, taking slow steps as her feet also carried her towards him.

“You wanna... I dunno... go somewhere else? Like... somewhere you like to go on a nice night like this?” she offers, eyes hopeful as they looked up at the man nearly a foot taller than her as he ran his fingers through his hair. The night was almost as lovely as he was. Almost.

“Yeah. I’ve got a place. Can’t tell anyone though. It’s a secret.” he leans in and gives her a wink that she doesn’t act exasperated by, just a lazy smile on her face.

“I won’t.” she replies softly.

“Let’s go then.” he whispers, taking her hand and walking her back to the bike.

---

The ride is serene and gorgeous. The moon out, bright light dropping through the tree canopy, the long dull roar of the bike as she held herself against him both rumbling together with the motor. She doesn’t know how many times she sighed, but she couldn’t stop. This day had been so nice and it really was a perfect night to be outside.

To a small clearing they drove through a barely broken in path to a large tree on its side. A marked stopping point, a few others having been removed offered a little meadow to see up into sky. Out in the forest, there was no noise or light pollution to take away from the view. They check that their phones were on silent subtly, they weren't taking any chances of being interrupted.

“This looks like someplace in a movie where teens come to get in trouble.” she remarks with a grin, fluffing her hair and shaking her jacket, standing as he turned to sit sideways on the supported bike.

“Or some 30-somethings looking to get away from everyone else.” he offers with a voice that was deeper and more even when he was among the trees. His face fell softer as if he felt at home there.

“You make this?” she asks, looking around, the moon giving enough light to see around up to the tree line.

“Somewhat. Cleared it out a little. Beat out the path over time. I like to get away up here. Sometimes I camp out.” he shrugs his explanation.

“It’s really nice. It’s so quiet.” she whispers.

“Don’t have to whisper.” he gives her the same warm smile that made her give him a chance in the first place.

“Feels like I should.” she remains quiet, standing closer to him, almost between his legs.

They both occupy the silence, looking up at the stars, feeling a slight breeze, taking in the sounds of nature. She wasn’t used to it. But she certainly felt like she could learn to like it. “I can see why you like this so much.” her voice still soft. “Only missing one thing for me.”

“Wassat?” he mumbles, looking at her with her eyes shut and face to the sky.

“Music.”

“Yeah...no wifi out here.” he chuckles.

“I’ve got music saved actually.” she announces, pulling out her phone and ignoring all the usual alerts.

“‘Course you do.” he gives her a smile, watching her nose twitch in thought as she was lit up from the phone screen.

“What? Should I not play it?” she asks with more genuine concern that makes him even more certain there’s a real soft kitten under that hard exterior.

“No, go for it.” he answers with a casual shake of his head.

“‘Kay.” she bites her lips. “There’s only one playlist I have saved, but it’s a great one. My parents wifi up at their cabin is shit so I saved this one so they could listen to it once I hooked up their stereo in the house for them.”

“Please tell me your parents aren’t country fans.” he snarks.

“No, no. They’re cool. Well I mean, I think they have good taste in music anyway.” she smirks. “It’s all Motown and 60’s stuff.” she explains as the Supremes comes over the phone, she sits it on the back of the bike. “One of moms favs.” she reminisces with a happy expression, moving her hand and hips in rhythm. “We’d watch old recordings and do the dances. I still remember most of them.” she admits with a shy smile. “Guess it’s the dance training. Or we just did it way too much.” she chuckles.

“Dance training?” he asks with a nod of his chin.

“Yeah, I danced as a kid. Mom with her pop culture dances and wanting me to learn the Celtic stuff. She thought I was good at it, so she put me in classes. Dance team in school, that whole thing.”

“Should’ve known.” he huffs out.

She turns her face to him, feet still playing out the easy steps.

“You’re good.” he offers with another charming smile.

“Oh.” she looks back down and smiles at the ground with her eyes crinkling at the edges. “Thanks.”

“You don’t think so?”

“It’s not that it’s just...I’m not really the best at taking real compliments.” she admits with a nervous laugh.

“I caught on.” he offers softly and leans forward.

She continues to sway and he contently watches her, wondering if he should make a move or just let her be. “You have a favorite out of these?” he suggests, thumbing through the long list.

“A few of course.” she snickers at herself.

“I wanna know what you're into... pick one out for me.” he urges, his voice slipping deeper and her body notices as it tightens and reacts.

She nods and leans in, getting close and bending over his long legs. His eyes turn a deep shade of brown, growing more lidded as he moved in close enough to smell the sweet scent of her perfume in her hair. Goosebumps bloomed over her skin at the feel of his breath, she gulps and plays it cool, making another little list of her favorites. She thought maybe she could set a soundtrack. Set a mood that couldn’t be ignored, interject with her encyclopedia of knowledge on the music of the time. She decides to loosen herself up first and get a laugh out of it, always a good place to start.

“Alright. Hit play.” she orders with a cheerful smile, Jackson 5 coming through and it wasn’t what he expected. She starts with the dance steps he knows to be associated with them, little turns and hand gestures and he sits back with crossed arms and nods his head to the beat. He applauds with an impressed face even though she didn’t do much and she bows. A cute smile with flushed cheeks as she leaned over to check the playlist.

“Don’t worry about it. Just relax. That’s what this place is for.” he whispers and stands, pulling her away from the bike. He’d seen the songs on the list, he knew he didn’t have anything to worry about with any mood being killed. With the night ripe and the air tense between them, he wanted to facilitate what he thought she wanted and knew he wanted. Maybe she was more timid with things like this than he realized. Her confident front falters as he takes her into his arms, a hand sliding under her jacket to her back pulling her in, another taking her hand, elbows bent with fingers laced together. The moon was bright enough to see her face, surrounded in a soft frame of thick wavy, naturally almost black locks. Her green eyes caught the light as they sat wide and almost innocent as she spanned over his chest and to their clasped hands. He leans his face down closer to her, his voice sweet and calm, trying to ease any nerves she had about getting close to him.

Her first thought when being taken into his arms was boy, is he bigger up close. But the quick second was realizing how close they’d been already. They’d slept skin to skin, nestled like little bunnies together and she hadn’t had a problem with it. So why was standing close and holding his hand erupting a fire in her stomach that threatened to bubble up and out of her throat with words that took away from the moment? It was like when bypassing her mind, her words changed from yes, I want this, to, did you know that when this song was recorded- putting up her wall to keep her from getting too close. But there was nothing to be afraid of at this point. He’d proven himself on all fronts. He was one of her best friends so quickly it threw her off her game, she didn’t bond quickly with people, she didn’t attract good men who helped their friends and cared about other people. Why was all this happening now?

With AlGreen lending him the mood, he keeps her close, looking down curiously as she looked thoughtful but almost frightened. “Thought you might want a dance.” he speaks, making her look up at him. “It’s all you bothered me about down there, thought you might want to show me a thing or two when it isn’t pouring rain outside.” he offers with a soft smile.

“Or getting electrocuted.” she adds and he feels her take a deep breath, her posture straightening and watching her come back to herself slowly. “Need to slow dance properly.” she almost mumbles, but he’s close enough and observant enough to catch the words. His choice of song isn’t lost on her. “Good one to do though.” she offers with big eyes that catch the moon and shine, making him sigh and only nod in response. He moves his hips to the beat and hers follow suit naturally. “You’re better this time.” she praises.

“Good teacher.” he says with a kind smile.

“Oh. Go on.” she looks down and chuckles nervously.

“Maybe I will.” he speaks low and pulls her closer.

She has to respond so she closes her mouth and blushes. The moments build, the last push in Tired of Being Alone, the vocals screech and he moves them fast in a circle, causing the tension to break as she squeaks much to his delight and he moves his hips and shoulders faster. “Keep up Bells.” he laughs, she does she as she throws her head back for a moment, the song fades fast, her head falling to his chest and she chuckles at how nervous she is. But it wasn’t any match for the next song. One of her mom’s favorites she’d sing to her father when they were being sickly sweet with each other. Natural Woman by Aretha, a song that could move even the most stubborn heart. And Bella was no exception. From the get she knows she’s doomed. Or would it be blessed at this point? Maybe it was a sign. One of those moments her mom told her about. When the universe just tapped you on the head and said, pay attention girl. So that’s what she did. She danced with the one man to make her feel anything since she was young to the song her parents slow danced to when she was young, thinking she wasn’t awake, peeping down the hall to see them swaying in the living room. The string section builds her confidence and takes a deep breath and does what she really wants for the first time in a long, long time.

She looks up at him and gives a little smile, finding him already watching her intently, his face as dark and calm as the sky behind it. She bows back and puts her back to his chest, swaying with both hands interlocked in his for a moment, placing them across her stomach, and she felt no resistance from him. He even bent his knees like she told him, feeling his nose in her hair as it brushed close to her ear. This was how this should've gone at the festival, this was the way they were dancing before and now without a cloud in the sky, there wouldn't be any interruptions.

From his vantage point he watches her shut her eyes, her chin up and head rested on him, one hand rubbing over his, a slow and smooth ascent up her own body, fingertips grazing her neck, pushing her hair out of the way before it snakes up and touches his face. With eyes still closed she turns her head towards his, he can feel her heartbeat racing under his palms. Her fingers are soft and light up his jaw and into his hair. He shivers at the touch, an almost grunt coming from him, putting his head even closer to hers. He wasn’t going to pass up another invitation when she was so boldly presenting it. The words ring too true, and she knows she has to face what she’s doing. She has to be the one to do it, because he’s too good too.

When she opens her eyes he’s already there, looking down at her with his deep, dark brown eyes. A heavy brow almost hiding them if the moon hadn’t been so full. With a brief flutter of lashes at how handsome he really could be so close up, she looks to his lips. His parted just as hers were, trying to calmly get more air as their heart demanded more of them as their pulses raised. As the song rolls into Percy Sledge smoothly, they both know there’s no turning back this time. Nothing to break them apart except themselves, and neither wanted to. A melodic organ he feels in his chest, this’ll be it.

He watches the lump in her throat bob and he smiles, grazing his nose against hers and feels her body give a little shudder when he got close. The air is thick and tense, the night air hot only around them, the moon and stars the only witnesses to what felt like such a monumental moment for both of them. With her head twisted, chin lifted to meet him as close to the middle as she could, they share one more glance between them, a final chance to bail and neither take it. Back down to their lips their eyes move, sharing a breath, his hand moving up to her face, as hers still rested in his hair. They break on the blare of a horn, both their breathing halted with the warmth that washes over them all the way down to their toes.

What starts as one press of lips, almost chaste with his rough fingers against her smooth jaw grows deeper, turn after turn of their mouths, until Bella can’t stand it any longer. With a tiny whimper, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, she turns in his arms, only parting for a moment and in a flash he runs cold, afraid the moments gone before she crashes her lips back into his, hands on his chest and the other in his hair, he gives over to her, leaning back against the bike, arms moving tightly around her to hold her close between his legs, splayed fingers working lower than they ever had before to her hips and between her shoulder blades, not wanting to even catch his breath as her arms slide around his neck.

They could’ve stayed like that forever. They both wanted to. This perfect moment, him surrounded by nature and her picking the soundtrack to her life was something they both wanted to hold on to for as long as possible. Her chest felt like it was full of fire, the butterflies in her stomach only fanning it with the rapid assault of their wings. Her fingertips tingled, only feeling warmth where he touched her, feeling the press of his impressive hands against her body under her jacket. His lips were softer than they seemed for a man that looked like him. The strong cupids bow and pinked color they natural held were always hidden at least in part by his facial hair, but she was getting to experience the full breadth of them tonight.

The kisses turn softer, more lips, more breathing, and her hands move to his rising and falling chest. With closed eyes still living in the blissful moment, their foreheads rest together as they take a few breaths. Wow, they both almost said. Few kisses felt like that one had. Some might never experience it. A painfully strong mutual attraction based on more than aesthetics. Built on friendship and trust and months of earning a place in each other's lives. It was real and raw and those things felt so rare for both of them.

“I can’t believe I waited so long to do that.” she eventually whispers, eyes still shut as her breaking the silence between them makes his eyes open to see her eyes flutter, half-lidded and pupils blown, fingertips light and shakey on the thin material of his shirt.

“You did it at the perfect time.” he coos back.

“Ugh.” a hand moving up to push back his hair as she beams up at him. “You’re so nice. Sweet, I mean.” she shakes her head, still trying to get the blood to flow to it and not the other brain that was shouting orders at her she was ignoring. “And… patient.” she adds with a huff of a laugh.

“Worth it.” he grins, kissing her cheek, the warmth flooding her all over again.

“Can we just... do more of that?” she lets out a girlish giggle he’s never heard, her head falling into his chest as her shoulders shake. She brings her head back up, shaking the hair out of her face and tracing her thumb over his cheek. “I’m so rusty at this.” she admits and he sees no shame or hesitation in her eyes now, only brightness.

“We can do as much of that as you want.” he kisses her softly. “And you don’t feel rusty to me.” he purrs back against her lips, eyes dark under a relaxed brow as she hummed happily.

“Not bad yourself, Harp.” she nudges her nose to his and smiles into a kiss, a content sigh shared as a kiss grows again. It felt so good, so right, just like she hoped it would. Just liked it should she thinks. He was so hot and pliant to the touch, a small lick of her tongue to his bottom lip makes his nostrils flare, a slow and teasing exchange between them. He bites on her full bottom lip and her eyes roll back in her head, a heavy sigh escaping her. She sucks on his after he releases it with a pop, her tongue moving to explore his own as they shared a more messy kiss, one that was clearly doing something for him as his hands ventured lower. He finally got his hands on that ass of hers, her letting out a little moan as he gave it a slight squeeze.

“Too far?” he asks, still learning the origin of her noises.

She answers by moving up into his lap, thighs on either side of him and shaking her head, putting his hands back where they had been. “No.” she answers before another wrestling kiss forms. Even with the advantage of being on him, he was still not taller than her. This was new for her as well, she’d never been a man this tall this... big. All over big. Or at least she hoped the hard place resting between her thighs was growing proof of that. Her hands slip under his jacket at the shoulders, far past her own in width and she moans as how hard he is under her hands. She greedily explores the planes of him, and he does the same. Hands down his chest to a stomach that was almost hard, fingertips pressed into shoulder blades that shifted as he easily picked her up to resituate her. Which she really didn’t mind at all. In fact she thought she might’ve found a new kink. No man she’d been with had even been strong enough to pick her up and throw her around so to speak, and literally. Her mind was full of racing ideas for him.

They kiss like teens at a make-out point as she’d teased upon arrival. Moans and pants exchanged against now swollen and wet lips, tongue in and outside of mouths as they explored what worked and didn’t, and so far there wasn’t a thing that didn’t feel good. It all felt too good and that was another problem entirely. One of those good problems she’d always heard about but never had herself.

She felt like taking her tits out of her dress, him getting those shapely lips on them and grinding on him until they both came. But she didn’t. She’d like to say she knew better, but she didn’t. She only knew not to go too fast, which is where she’d been burned before. “I know we have to stop at some point. But I don’t want to.” she half moans into a lippy and loud kiss.

He smiles against her. “I know babe. I know.” he groans and moves his hand back up to her waist. Hers on his jaw, thumbs swiping over the short sides of his beard as she kissed the corners of his mouth, the tip of his nose, wanting to feel every part of him against her lips.

“Mmph. That’s nice.” he hums with closed eyes and continues to his cheeks, that masculine brow, over the scar that lies there and one to his forehead.

“You’re very, very kissable.” she giggles, nuzzling his face with her nose. Touching him felt like a drug.

“So you are. Among...other things.” his nostrils flare as she bites her lip at him.

“Will there be time for that later?” she whispers, an almost naughty turn to her words.

“All the time you want.” he raises his brow, his voice deep with grit and hunger.

“How about we make time for it?” she asks, fingers into his beard and scratching, wanting to take in as much of him as she could.

“Mmm?” he asks, grunting as a response to her question and to the affection.

“We should make time. We’re both busy, I don’t want to go another week without seeing you... without... this.” she coos and kisses him softly.

“Then let’s do it. Let me take you out. A real date.”

“Oh, a real one huh?” she teases, kissing his cheek.

“Yeah. We’ll go downtown, meat, and wine the whole thing. Wine and dine.” he says playfully.

“Wine dine and...sixty nine?” she asks before her nose wrinkles and her face falls into a giggle.

“Like I said, whatever you want babe.” he grins.

Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! It makes me want to write more of what you want if you let me know!

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer @phillipkopusimagines-and-stuff @mjolnir96 @xmother-mortemx @this-isnt-madness @thors-hair-extensions @divadinag

#Declan Harp #Frontier #frontier fic #declan harp x reader #declan harp fanfic #declan harp fan fiction #declan harp fic #declan harp au #declan harp modern au #frontier au #frontier modern au #jason momoa frontier #frontier fanfic #frontier fandom #frontier fan fiction #frontier fan fic #declan harp x ofc #declan harp x oc #jason momoa

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landofsomethingsomething · 7 years ago

Note

ooo how about john trying to pull a prank on roxy but she either catches him in the act or pranks him back since shes been bffsies with jane for years and nothing surprises her anymore

Roxy woke to the sound of her phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. Half awake and grumbling to herself, she flipped over onto her back, reached blindly out with one arm, and flopped her hand around like a dying fish until it connected with something hard and square and probably her phone. Somewhere nearby her on the bed, an indignant cat meowed a rebuke, and there was a distinct thud as the jostled animal fled. Roxy called out an apology to the affronted cat and simultaneously unlocked her phone with a quick swipe, held it up before her squinting eyes, and frowned.

One notification, from John. A simple text containing one ominous emoji: 🎭.

So. It was gonna be that kind of day, then.

She didn’t bother to reply, but she did open it up so it’d mark as read on his end. Stew in that one for awhile, Egbert. She tossed her phone beside her on the bed, sat up, and stretched. Let’s do this, she thought, grinning. Another cat peered in from the bedroom door, green eyes blinking slowly. Roxy blinked slowly back.

Phase one was easy; bedroom to bathroom. She kicked off the covers and swung her legs over the bed – and hopped lightly over the waiting tub of sopor slime plunked down on the floor, right where she’d normally be standing. No sweat. She took three steps toward the bathroom, ducked without even bothering to look, and easily cleared a roll of transparent plastic wrap fastened expertly between her vanity mirror and an old wizard clock taller than she was. Her favorite slippers (cats, of course) were discarded on the bathroom floor, kicked off before bed last night, and she bent and picked them up and carefully shook them out one by one.

Nothing. She frowned, quirking an eyebrow. Bullshit.

She felt around the plush soles, and – “Hah!” A telltale square chip, slid into the padding. She fished it out with a finger, shaking her head. “Got you,” she muttered, peering curiously at it. She pressed it between her fingers just to see what it would do.

The answer, apparently, was emit a pressure-trigged garbled tinny mishmash of meowing sounds through a miniscule speaker. Perfect. Laughing, she pocketed the device and continued to the toilet. Seat down. Suspicious. Behind her, a cat pranced into the room, eagerly anticipating its early morning toilet scritches.

She went to one knee. With one hand, she gave the confused kitty the scritches it had come for, and with the other, she lifted the toilet seat, cringing back – but nothing happened. She examined every inch of the porcelain throne and found absolutely nothing, and in fact, was about to just go ahead and do her damn business already, when she thought to check the fucking toilet paper.

Tinfoil. Not a tinfoil covered roll of toilet paper, oh no. Just a goddamn toilet paper shaped roll of tinfoil. She snorted. Went to the cabinet to pull a fresh one out. Found six more tinfoil toilet papers. Muttered a few choice oaths under her breath.

Whatever. Who didn’t piss in the shower every once in awhile? He’d love hearing all about it, next time he was over in the morning. She pulled the tinfoil roll still up by the toilet out a bit and crinkled it, and Mr. Morning Bathroom Scritches happily took the bait, pawing at it.

To the shower. She saw the device on the head plainly – he didn’t even try to hide it. Curious, she turned the water on just to see what would happen.

Pink water shot out. Food dye? Probably. The little bastard had probably filled her hair shit with it, too. It was almost tempting to just use it – who had a problem with pink hair? But the truth was, she didn’t trust John’s choice of dye material. Besides, this shit was meant to turn all of her pink, obviously, not just the hair.

– Actually, she was kind of tempted to just let that happen, too.

Maybe later.

She disabled the food coloring (or whatever) device and took a quick shower – and a long piss – and remembered at the last second to check the towels before yanking one off the rack.

She lifted the edge of one, gingerly.

It stained her fingertips pink.

She laughed.

The towel itself was already pink, of course, that was its natural state… all the easier to hide whatever the fuck this pink powder was all over it. And they were all like that, of course. Naturally.

She stood in front of the mirror and resolved to air dry. It wasn’t that cold, anyway. Nothing in the hairbrush, but the blow dryer had what looked like the dessicated remains of a feather duster shoved up the barrel, so she set that down for another day. She’d make his enterprising ass pick them all out, later. Only fair.

Back out and back under the wall of cellophane, and off to face the wardrobe.

As it turned out, all her clothes were gone. Except her favorite dress. Which also happened to be his favorite dress. Which was a damn good dress, for like, a date. Not that it was horribly indecent – John wasn’t that kind of guy, which was usually charming – it was just, you know. Sequins. Ruffles. Showy.

“I guess,” she said, pulling it off the hanger, “In Egbert land, prank day counts as a special occasion.”

Another cat wound itself around her ankles, purring agreement.

By the time she retrieved her phone, she had three more messages. Two were from John – the same emoji as before, but in greater numbers – and the third was Jane. Roxy opened that one eagerly.

GG: Miss Roxy. GG: Might I inquire why, on this lovely spring morning, all of the clothing in my closet has been joined by what I can only describe as the most Roxy-like attire I have ever seen? TG: i would invite uTG: on this lovely spring morningTG: to ask ur fuckin son about that cause i guarantee you at this point he knows more than me GG: Oh my. GG: Prank day? TG: he was gonna turn me pink janeTG: pink from head to toeTG: pink dye pink powder and also he put a meow speaker in my meowcat slippersTG: might keep that one tbhTG: its p cuteGG: I gather from your phrasing that his dastardly efforts have been thus far unsuccessful. TG: hmmTG: actually not sure if i can trust you on thisGG: Roxy! TG: prank day is kind of an egbert AND crocker thing and u know thisGG: I cannot believe you would accuse me, your best friend, of collaborating with John to turn you pink. TG: the clothes ARE in your wardrobe apparentlyGG: And if I was in on this, why would I tell you so? TG: fuckTG: uhhhTG: idk but im sure theres a reasonTG: plots within plotsTG: wheels within wheelsTG: cats within catsTG: sec i gotta scritch a cat right fuckin nowGG: Of course. GG: Well. Since I am apparently suspect, I shall leave you to face your trials in peace. Please pick up these clothes in at least a halfway timely fashion, if you please. Closet space is an asset to be cherished, thank you very much. TG: pfft TG: u got like 15 closets all to yourself dont give me thatGG: Even so. TG: alright okayTG: if i survive this ill be by later maybeTG: maybe tomorrowTG: depends ;)GG: Not another word. GG: Tomorrow will be fine. Thank you. GG: And remember what I taught you. TG: he aint got me yetGG: Good.

She pocketed her phone, checked her shoes five times for hidden gimmicks, found nothing, and sidestepped three buckets of glitter assembled above three separate doorways on her way out. He’d be cleaning all that up later, too, along with any cats who happened to inadvertently roll around in the glitter piles.

… After she took pictures.

The front door seemed strangely bereft of mischievous devices, and having found nothing, it was with some trepidation that she turned the knob and pushed the door open, squinting out into the daylight.

A series of loud pops and flashes nearly blinded her, as apparently an entire newsroom’s worth of photographers got to work snapping pictures. She recovered herself quickly – of course she did – and turned the arm she’d thrown up over her eyes into a dramatic wave, instead, swaying her hips as she descended the steps. The effect, she thought, was only magnified by the entourage of bounding cats spilling out around her.

“Are you serious!” John’s voice in the crowd, and then John himself, hovering up above it, arms crossed. “Not a single one?”

She waved her phone at him. “Not a one, and Janey’s already spilled the beans on where the clothes are, so you don’t even get to lord that one over me this time around.”

The cameras weren’t stopping – probably because the two of them were famous gods and the tabloids fuckin’ loved them, but whatever. She leapt up into the air and lunged after John, who made a not very sincere attempt to lunge away, only to be yanked back by Roxy’s fist bunched up in the back of his shirt. She spun him around in the air, laughing.

“What’s with all the pink, anyhow?” She elbowed him, and he caught her arm, trapping it in his. “First Jake with the blue, now you with the pink, is this kinda fetish a genetic thing I should know about?”

He wrinkled his nose – it was fucking adorable, actually – and stuck his tongue out at her. “It’s not like that,” he insisted. He was lifting her higher, high enough that the sound of the cameras was fading off into nothing. The boy did love to fly. She followed him up, smirking. “I was trying to pick something obnoxious, that you would hate, but also that you would secretly kind of like.”

“Pink kinda is my color,” she conceded.

“Exactly!”

“I liked the slippers.” She slipped the chip out of her pocket, holding it up. John laughed.

“Dirk made that just for you,” he said. “He said you’d find it, though. Guess he was right.”

She pressed the panel down and the tiny speaker erupted in heavily compressed meow-sounds, mingling with the wind. They were far, far up, now, with damp little wispy cloud trails swirling around them. “Hells of cute,” she said, waving it under his nose. He laughed and slipped an arm around her and shot up through the clouds, pulling her with him. It should have been cold up here, especially in the damn dress she was wearing, but godhood came with a number of pretty good perks.

“Tell you what,” she said, grinning, and he looked back at her curiously, eyebrows shooting up. “One day I’m gonna get you so good, you never try any of this prank day shit on me again.”

He scoffed at her. “Yeah right. That’s what they all say.”

She stopped cold in the air, and he drifted to a stop a few seconds later, looking down at her, hands on his hips. Curls of cloud stuff danced between them. Roxy grinned devlishly at him, darted forward, and –

“Hey!” John gasped, as she shot past and grabbed his legs, turning him over in the air. He reached up to grab her, missed, and she worked his shoes off with ease. “Knock it off!” He kicked at her, socked feet far too slow to actually connect, and she laughed a wild laugh and shoved him forward, somersaulting him in the air. “This is not a prank!” he insisted, righting himself and huffing at her, cheeks red. “It doesn’t count! Give me back those shoes.”

“Not a chance,” she said, sweetly, dropping them. He gasped, and predicably, he dove for them. Simultaneously, Roxy dove for him.

She caught him by the waistband as he went darting by, and momentum did the rest. He made an absolutely hilarious yelping sound, gave up on catching his shoes, and spun upward to witness her hovering above him, waving his pants in one hand like a flag.

“Roxy!” He shouted, flushing crimson. “Give those back, come on! This is not how pranking works!”

“Says you,” Roxy said, blowing him a kiss. “See you later! And remember: I love you very much.”

“Roxy, wait –”

He shot for her, but she was already gone, pants in hand, in a rush of wind and void. She laughed uproariously as the blue and white folded around her and changed abruptly to starry black.

Sucker.

#roxy lalonde #john egbert #jane crocker #roxygen #johnroxy #text #asks #op #Anonymous #ficlet

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peaky-yamyam · 7 years ago

Text

Neighbours: Part Eleven - Tommy Shelby

The Dinner

Part One | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve |

We file into the dining room in an orderly fashion, all of us taking our seats in almost silence. I don't miss that my mother has moved the seating plan; before I'd made sure that Tommy and I would be sitting opposite Rose and James, however my mother's re-jig has left me sitting opposite Whitley and Tommy opposite Derby with the Comptons and the Cromleys sat at either ends of the table, as far as possible from myself and Tommy.

I have to admire her plan, I'm not able to kick up a fuss - Tommy is sat beside me - but with the two younger couples and Rose’s sharp tongue far from reach, I know she hopes to have quashed any potentially controversial topics being brought up. I also know that she hopes Whitley and Derby will spend the night belittling Tommy, with the plan of ‘making me see sense’ most likely.

Luckily through the first three courses I manage to keep conversation between Tommy and myself, with all the other guests engaged in their own topics of discussion, but by the main course I can sense my mother glaring at me and she decides to command the conversation of the entire table.

“It's such a shame that your brother and sister couldn't attend this meal,” she declares, the comment directed at me.

“Yes it is a shame that they couldn't be bothered to tear themselves away from their busy, busy lives to have a welcome home dinner with their mother,” I fire back, annoyed at her blatant attempt to manipulate the dinner.

“Of course Albert is so busy with his work, does everyone know that he's got a job in politics now? Such a talented young man, can turn his hand to anything!” she boasts.

I turn to Tommy and lower my voice, “But his speciality is cheap whores and blackjack,” I mumble, although not quiet enough that my mother doesn't hear. She narrows her eyes at me before continuing.

“And I suppose Lady Camilla wouldn't be able to come, having just given birth-”

“She gave birth five months ago mother!” I snap, the thin veil of calm I’d clung on to evaporating instantly and I lose myself to my irritation at the exaggerated praise of my siblings.

“Another beautiful little boy,” my mother continues, a look of satisfaction plastered on her face now she knows she's wound me up. “She is so accomplished, such a socialite, so beautiful and not even twenty-six and already married to an Earl with two little boys! I couldn't be more proud of her,” she gushes with a sly look to me.

It’s a warning; “I do not like this man, end things or I will make your life miserable.” Luckily though I've never been scared of my mother, or her threats and glancing at Tommy's stoney stare, I can tell he isn't worried by them either. She looks to me as if she's won, stupid really, and after thirty years of arguing you'd have thought she'd know better.

“Well mother, perhaps if there hadn't been a war I'd still be married to an Earl, possibly with two beautiful little boys…” I linger for a moment, waiting until I'm sure I have everyone’s attention, “...and you'd be bankrupt and homeless paying off loan sharks for your talented young man.”

A tense atmosphere drops like a bomb across the table and my mother's face flares a vicious red and I revel in the silence before turning back to my dinner, noticing that Tommy has done the same - a gorgeous twinge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Lady Georgiana,” Rose says after a few awkward moments of silence, “I hear you have a new set of foals.”

“Yes Lady Rose I do,” I reply, pleasant smile plastered across my face to match hers.

“My brother is awfully excited to get his hands on one, he's been boasting about it to everyone he knows, handing out your cards left, right, and centre. I'm sure you'll be having gentlemen ripping your hand off to have you train their horses. It's very impressive, you must be exceptionally proud of the name you've made for yourself.”

I know what she's doing and if I wasn't so worried about getting food on my dress I'd climb across the table and kiss her.

“Thank you, that's very kind of you to say Lady Rose.”

“Lady Rose is right Georgiana, your horses are something else. I’ve already told Charlie he’s not to get too attached to that foal. Once you’ve trained him, it’ll be off to the auctions with it,” Tommy says, a little glint in his eye the only indication that he’s joking.

I know nobody’s missed him addressing me so informally, or the inside joke, and as he places a hand discreetly on my knee and rubs a calming circle across the top of my leg, I notice my mother’s face deepen and her hands twitch around her cutlery. I can almost hear my her preparing to self destruct, her plan to rile me and distract me from Tommy crumbling and burning in front of her before we’ve even got to dessert. I can’t help but smile at the whole situation.

She stays quiet for the rest of the course and although I try to keep myself from glancing at her, I still manage to catch her glaring at Whitley and Derby across from me, obviously trying to get them to step up.

“Mr Shelby, this kind of dinner party must seem so formal and excessive to you,” Whitley finally offers as the plates are being removed

“How so?” Tommy replies, icy eyes trained on Whitley like a hawk.

Whitley clears his throat and fiddles nervously with the cutlery in front of him. “Well, just that I imagine meals like this weren’t commonplace for you growing up.”

“Not growing up, no.”

I can feel the anger begin to radiate from Tommy so I place my hand on his leg, mirroring his earlier attempt to calm me.

“Do you host many parties yourself Mr Shelby?” Rose interrupts. “You have a beautiful home with glorious gardens from what I hear, it would be the perfect excuse to show them off,” she adds, ending with a glare towards Whitley.

“No I don’t host Lady Rose, I prefer to keep my home private,” Tommy replies lightly, dropping his hand beneath the table and taking mine with a squeeze.

“As the man has every right to do,” my father adds, taking a deep sip of his drink. It appears the awkwardness of the dinner is not lost to him either.

The room sinks into silence again, the only reprieve is the gentle clanging of plates as dessert is served and I can’t stand it. Nor can I stand the shit-eating look on Whitley’s face as he readies another attempt at a scathing remark directed at Tommy.

I decide to get in there first.

“You know Lord Whitley, I’ve been trying to think of something that you and Mr Shelby might have in common, seeing as you appear so interested in his life, but despite racking my brains, all I can think of is that you served in France together...”

I let my words linger, keep my gaze fixed solely on Whitley’s distended face; everyone around this table knows he didn’t serve, but I want him to have to say it.

“Geor-” my mother starts.

“Where was it that you served Lord Whitley, I can’t seem to remember off the top of my head?” I interrupt.

I catch Rose smile and fold her hands neatly in her lap, readying herself for what she knows is coming.

“Nowhere…” Whitley mumbles quietly.

“Where did you say, sorry I didn’t quite catch it?”

“I didn’t serve Lady Georgiana.”

I raise my free hand to my chest and put on my exaggerated “oh silly me” face, “Of course, you know what? I have you confused with every other man I know under the age of fifty - apart from Lord Derby obviously - I remember now, your dodgy hip meant you couldn’t enlist…” I can almost hear Rose buzzing with excitement from the end of the table as she awaits my next comment. I plaster a smile on my face and continue. “I suppose we should all be thankful though that it didn’t stop you from being Master of the Hunt for those four years… or from getting that prostitute pregnant.”

“GEORGIANA ENOUGH!” my mother bellows, throwing her fork to her plate.

“Sorry mother, I thought that was common knowledge - nothing to be ashamed of Lord Whitley, I’m sure you weren’t aware she was a whore, and your little boy really is beautiful.”

“You have done nothing but act like a petulant child this whole evening! Apologise to Lord Whitley for being so wholly disrespectful immediately!” my mother shouts.

“Of course,” I reply calmly. “I do apologise Lord Whitley, you know what I’m like, my mouth runs ahead of my brain half the time.” The apology is easy to make, I know that I’ve had my desired effect; a little reminder that I know a lot more about people than they might want me to, and that I’m not afraid to use it. That comment enough to keep Lord Whitley and Derby quiet while we finish our last two courses. So quiet in fact, that they both look like naughty school children who have received a damn good, and well deserved, bollocking.

The easy chatter that graced first two courses blanket the final two, and after declining any cheese, Tommy spends the last fifteen minutes of the meal with his hand on the top of my thigh, his fingers dancing delicate patterns across the fabric of my dress, occasionally slipping between my legs. Not enough to provide any kind of relief, but enough to make me sit a little straighter each time. Enough that I’m imagining him grabbing my hand and whisking me from the room to fuck me anywhere remotely private.

I devourer my last course and mentally curse everyone else for taking so long, until finally, the last plates are cleared away and my father declares that it’s time for the men to retreat to the drawing room for cigars.

“Actually father, I promised Mr Shelby that I’d show him our stables, if I’m able to steal him away?” I ask, my hand swatting at Tommy’s to stop any more teasing.

“Georgiana, I’m sure Mr Shelby needs to be getting home... to his son...” my mother all but spits.

“Oh, I’m in no rush Lady Crawford,” Tommy replies, hooking his foot discretely around my ankle and pulling it sharply to the side, allowing his hand the opportunity to slide further around my thigh.

My breath hitches in my throat as he begins to tease the sensitive skin, drawing circles and swirls that creep higher and higher.

“You two go,” my father prompts, glaring at my mother.

I shoot up from my chair, careful not to trip over Tommy’s foot and turn to address the room. “Everyone, this evening has been… well, thank you all for coming I suppose.”

Tommy follows me as I hurry to leave the room, grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him once we’re out of sight of the drawing room.

“You alright?” he asks, his hands moving from my wrists to my cheeks, cupping them gently.

“Yes. It's just… they wind me up so much, my mother does it on purpose so she has an excuse not to like me and as for Derby and Whitley, well they are just the worst pe-”

Sensing that I'm getting angry again, Tommy cuts me off with a kiss. One that's so gentle, I melt into him, but there's a promise of something more to come laced through it as well, a passion I can tell he’s holding back.

He snaps away and starts walking towards the back door, leaving me swaying slightly on the spot. But just before he reaches the door he turns back to me.

“Thought you were showing me these stables?” he calls, forcing me back to reality.

I rush to catch him up.

“I just said that to get us out of there, I know you've already seen them.”

“Yeah well I'd like to see them again, unless you have somewhere else around the house you'd like to show me?” he replies, rummaging through his jacket for his cigarettes, smirk on his lips and eyebrows quirked.

I can read through his little euphemism and my skin starts to tingle with excitement.

“The stables are fine,” I say, trying to keep the thrill from my voice as I grab his free hand and pull him out into the grounds.

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #neighbours

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lilibug--xx · 7 years ago

Text

I Never Knew

Read on ao3 here

Based on the prompt by @jokerscrown on @bughead-fanfic-wishlist

Despite her pale skin, frumpy hair, and hospital gown, Jughead thought she was beautiful. She must have thought the same of him, even in her post anesthesia state, because she had just asked him to marry her – even though they had just met.

Jughead is a nurse! Betty is a patient – She’s a little OOC due to drugs after surgery. But I thought this was a cute little AU idea!

I’m actually a night shift nurse on an orthopedic unit, so I’m sorry if there’s boring or technical bits! I couldn’t help but have it be a little accurate. Though obviously I would NEVER get involved with a patient.

Should I write a 2nd part? Let me know!

Thin, long fingers smoothed over navy fabric. He brushed some small white hairs to the ground. There were still some persistent ones sticking to the bottom of his scrub top. He didn’t bother with them, instead shooting a glare to his dog that was curled up on the couch sleeping. The shaggy dog blowing out a soft snore, as if he knew he was being watched. He really needed a new lint roller.

He pulled his work beanie on over his dark hair, tugging it down and tucking in the end of the strands hanging in front of his eyes. He pulled his red flannel jacket on, zipping it up and grabbing his gloves. He checked that Hot Dog’s water bowl was filled and left the light above the stove on for him before locking his door to his apartment. It was cold out, enough that his breath was visible, and his throat ached from the cold air. Snow was still sprinkling down after their big flurry yesterday.

The drive to Mercy Hospital, in Riverdale, wasn’t very long at all. He lived on the edge of town in a quiet apartment complex by the river, and it only took him 15 minutes to get there. He was still driving his old beat up truck his father gave him for his 16th birthday. It was about on its last legs, but he was really stretching it. He was working on paying off his student loan before he took on a car payment.

With the hospital coming into view, Jughead grabbed his ID badge out of the center console and flipped it to slide through the card reader at the entrance of the parking garage. The perks of working nightshift, he didn’t have to park in the lot and walk. After going around up to the third floor of the garage, he parked his truck and clipped the badge to the front of his scrub top. He slipped the mirror down, glancing at himself. The name reflected back from the badge always made him frown.

He was still bitter about the fact they wouldn’t let him put Jughead on there. No, had to be his godforsaken actual name. He huffed a sigh, stuffing his keys into his coat pocket and trudging over to the steps and falling in love with the other nurses and aids heading in for their shift. The sun had already set, the orange glow just starting to fade behind the building. He stopped at the Starbucks inside the hospital, grabbing a coffee to drink. He liked night shift, he was a night owl anyway so this worked for him.

He took the elevator up to his unit, orthopedics, and dropped his coat and gloves off in the locker room. He sipped his coffee, gathering his pens and then slinging his black stethoscope around his neck. Since Jughead worked at night there was no management around, so he was able to continue wearing his beanie. He went to the break room and looked briefly at his assignment for the night. Then he sat down on the old flowery couch they had in there, pulling his phone out. They always did a safety huddle before the next shift to discuss the patients on the floor.

Blue eyes scanned his phone, answering a text he had missed from Archie earlier in the day. Jughead was scrolling through Facebook when someone plopped down next to him.

“Hey Jug, you ready for tonight?” Veronica Lodge, one of his co-workers and also friend outside of work. She also happened to be dating his best friend, the aforementioned Archie. Coincidence? Yes, he introduced them after Veronica had stalked his social media pages and found Archie in his photos.

He gave a shrug, “Never really ready. But yeah, I’m ready to get it over with and go home and go back to sleep.” Jughead looked watched her roll her eyes, his own tracking the way she was paying with the string of pearls she always wore. Her hair was up in a bun tonight, with a flowery headband to perk up the navy she was forced to endure.

“Lucky. I have to stay up today. Me and Arch are going out of town this weekend to see his parents. Maybe I can sleep in the car?” she scrunched her face up at the idea. He gave a chuckle, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his shirt. He drummed his fingers against his pants, fingers scratching his knee.

He liked working with Veronica though, so it would make the night go faster, having someone to talk to. They were some of the youngest working on their floor, most of the other nurse’s were more middle aged or in their 30’s.

After their meeting he printed his report sheets and looked over his assignment, waiting for report from the day shift nurse. Jughead had three post up patients, two from a knee replacement and one from surgery on a shoulder fracture. He also had someone waiting for a repeat surgery on their ankle, and one who was a couple days out from a partial hip replacement. He gave a lot of pain medication to these types of patients, as anything to do with bones were generally painful.

He went through his list of patients with the day shift nurse, stopping outside of each room and then going in to meet the patients and check if they needed something. They were on their last one, the most recent post op, the shoulder fracture.

“Elizabeth Cooper, 24, suffered a fall on some ice and fractured her proximal humerus. She had an ORIF done, I’ve only had her an hour so she’s still pretty out of it. She’s got a sling and swathe on, with coverlet dressing.” He looked at his sheet as the nurse spoke, nodding along. He underlined a few of the words so his eyes could find them quickly when needed. He wrote down her pain medications and then they stepped into the room.

The lights were turned down, and he wrote his name on the white board under the ‘nurse’ section. Jughead looked over to the patient and felt his mouth go dry. Even with her eyes closed, blonde hair messy and fanned out on her pillow, and chapped lips he couldn’t help but find her beautiful. He busied himself checking out her oxygen levels and pulse on the machine next to her. They didn’t wake her, Jughead saying he would wait until her meds were due.

After report he went through his patients notes on the computer, looking at what meds they had due, their pain med options, and their lab values. He decided to stop and see room 18, the shoulder patient who was only a year younger than him. He always felt slightly awkward when taking care of younger patients, he always felt more at ease with his older ones.

He entered her room after knocking gently on the door, she didn’t arouse to that. He checked her oxygen and pulse on the monitor, and checked her IV fluids. Pulling her blankets down, he glanced up to her face, she seemed to still be sleeping.

“Elizabeth, I’m just going to take a look at the dressing on your shoulder, and feel your pulses.” He narrated what he was going to do, should she actually be awake. They were always supposed to describe what they were doing.

Jughead unbuttoned the shoulder of her hospital gown on her right side, taking a look at the dressing there. He felt around it, feeling the temperature and noting the swelling. He buttoned her back up, fingers traveling down to where her wrist was peeking out the sling. He felt her pulse with his fingers, and checked the capillary refill on her fingertips.

“Alright, Elizabeth, I’m going to listen to your heart and lung sounds now, okay?” he positioned his stethoscope in his ears and held it over her gown in all the spots he needed to assess her properly. Once he was done, he took a peek at her IV site in her left arm to make sure it was working properly and then walked over to the computer in the room. He charted a few things, checked her diet orders, and then went to fetch a cup of ice chips to put on her table.

When he came back he had leant over her to place the cup on the table to her left, rather than walk all the way around the bed. Suddenly her hand shot out and fisted in his scrub top, yanking him down towards her. “You.. have GOT to be the sexiest.. man I’ve ever seen,” her voice was wavering in and out of quietness and above appropriate volume, her words slightly slurred. He chuckled at her, the glazed over look in her green eyes telling him all he needed to know.

“Now, Elizabeth, while that might be true you can’t talk to your nurse that way,” Jughead covered her hand with his, unclenching her fingers from the material of his shirt. She shook her head quickly at his words and then clenched her eyes shut tightly, bringing her good hand up to her forehead. “Ohhh.. dizzy,” she moaned, head pressing back into her pillow.

He rolled his eyes at her and put the head of her bed back a little. “Do you know where you are right now?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. Her eyes opened again and he couldn’t help but glance towards them. Bright, wide, mesmerizing – were just a few words that popped into his head. His lips tightened in a small frown.

“Uh, yeah, duh.” She snorted, trying to wiggle around in the bed.

He raised an eyebrow at her, one hand gesturing for her to continue. “And where is that?”

“The hospital, silly.” she whispered at him, giggling.

“Which hospital?”

“Umm, Greendale?” Jughead shook his head at her, lips quirking up a little.

“Not quite, you’re still in Riverdale.”

“Shit, don’t tell my mother that I’m here,” she groaned, bringing her hand up to her face and swiping it down dramatically.

“Elizabeth I think you-“

“Don’t call me that.” she shouted over him, her hand reaching out and grabbing one of his crossed arms. He grabbed her hand with his, folding it back to her side.

“What should I call you then?” he asked simply, as he himself didn’t like his name, so who was he to judge?

“Call me Betty,” She licked her lips, eyes drooping a little as her voice got softer.

Jughead’s tongue reached out, licked his bottom lip. “Betty,” he tested out. Her face lighting up in a small smile. Her hand reach out to him again, clawing weakly at his crossed arms. “You can call me Jughead.” He offered in return.

“You’re so nice, will you marry me Jughead?” she proposed, her eyes slipped closed. Fingers falling from his arm, her lips parting and breathes evening out. He shook his head at her, wondering when the anesthesia was going to be out of her system. People did and said weird things after surgery, so he was pretty immune. However when a beautiful young blonde says stuff like this? He couldn’t help his heart racing a little.

He left the room with a promise to check on her falling on deaf ears.

He saw his other patients and dished the rounds of evening meds before grabbing a drink of water and sitting at the nurse’s station. He sat across from Veronica, booting up the computer.

“So, I just had one of my patients ask me to marry them,” just casual conversation, right?

Veronica snorted, the coffee she was sipping on settled back on the table. “You get marriage offers like, once week Jug,” her eyes were still glued to the computer screen, blue light reflecting off the reading glasses she wore when working with the computers.

“I’ll have you know that this wasn’t an old lady,”

A perfectly arched brow rose, her eyes then lifting and looking up at him across the desk. “Color me intrigued then,”

“It was this young patient I have, around our age. She’s really attractive, despite laying in a hospital.” He was a little smug, however he left out the part about her being high off meds.

“Well, well, well. What an interesting development.” She seemed to ponder for a moment, finger tapping her lip as she looked up to the ceiling.

“How can we hook you up without it being totally weird?”

Jughead rose his own eyebrows in response, reaching a hand up and scratching at his hair under his beanie. “Uh, no right answer there, Ronnie.” It was never good to look up patients after they left your care – and certainly not to give them your number.

She shook her head at him, eyes turning devious as she smirked. “I can.. look her up on social media because she’s not MY patient and then we can find out-“

“I don’t think that’s-”

“-though she might not be working for a while now since she had shoulder surgery,”

“- not a good idea.”

“Maybe I can ask for her number? Or maybe we can send Archie in there as a visitor or send her flowers-“

“Okay, enough, Ronnie.” He raised his voice a little to get her attention, lips dipping down into a frown at her. She tended to go a little crazy when it came to this kind of stuff. “I don’t even know if she’s single-”

“Yes she is, says it right here.” She had shoved her phone in his face from across the desk. He leaned back a bit, glaring up at her, but he couldn’t help but take a peek down to her phone. There was Betty’s Facebook profile, including picture which she looked like a model in – all tanned skin, pink glossy lips, hair falling in waves about her shoulders. Her smile was so beautiful, she was beautiful. He felt this mouth go a little dry and he cleared his throat, shaking his head at Veronica.

“It’s not gonna happen Veronica.” He used her name in warning, going back to his work on the computer. She let out a ‘tsk’ and sat back down. He knew this wasn’t likely to be the end of It though.

He finished his charting, crossing off the meds he had given and tasks he had done on his sheet of paper. He folded it up and put it in the pocket on the front of his scrub top. He decided to go check on Betty again.

Luckily he did because she was already halfway out of bed, still attached to her leg pumps, the IV line, and oxygen monitor. “Woah, woah, lets sit you back down.” He rushed over to her putting a hand on her good shoulder and holding her steady as she plopped back down on the bed sheepishly. He stepped back, untangling all the cords attached to her. “What were you doing getting up by yourself?”

“I’m sorry, I have to pee..” Betty’s pale cheeks were now flushed red and she was chewing on her lower lip. Her free hand was clenching the edge of her gown by her knees.

“That’s okay, you’re allowed to have to pee. I guess I didn’t get a chance to explain the call button before you passed out.” He pulled the wraps off her legs, and noticed her bare feet. He walked over to the linen cabinets in the room and grabbed a pair of the hospital grey non-slip socks. Bending down he grabbed her ankle, lifting her foot up a little, fingers sliding over the delicate skin there, cool to the touch. He slipped her socks on, trying not to think anything else about her legs or ankles and how they might feel locked around his hips.

“Alright, I’ll help you to the bathroom and push your IV pole for you.” He wrapped his arm around her left one, hauling her up. He had either underestimated his strength or her weight because she came up quickly and hard into his chest. He righted her position, letting her gather her balance.

“Feel okay?” he looked her over, making sure she wasn’t going to pass out or fall. She nodded at him, stretching her legs a little before starting to walk to the bathroom across the room. Jughead tugged the IV pole along behind her, holding the back of her gown closed for her privacy. They made it to the bathroom and she slipped inside while he slid the door closed standing just outside.

He let out a slow sigh, leaning his head against the wood door. Closing his eyes he tried to get rid of thoughts clouding his vision, the glimpse of her naked back before he quickly pulled her gown closed.

Jughead heard the toilet flush and he waited a moment, stepping back from the door. He heard the water faucet turn on and then a moment later, the door slid open. She was throwing a paper towel away and peeking through the opening up at him. She was chewing on her lip again.

“Could you…” she paused, the words seeming to fail her. She cleared her throat, touching the base of it before running a hand through her hair, pulling some strands behind her ear. “Could get into my bag and find my underwear?” her cheeks were a pretty flushed red, dipping down to her chest and underneath the gown.

He chuckled a little at her embarrassment and smiled at her. “Of course,” he walked back to the bed, a green linen bag sitting on the bedside table. He looked through it, hands ruffling the different fabrics inside until he found a scrap of light blue lace that had to be underwear because it surely couldn’t be anything else. He held it up stretching it out between his fingers just to check. Yep. Cheeky.

He shuffled back to the bathroom and knocked on the partially open door. Betty turned back from where she was trying to finger comb her hair in the mirror. He held the underwear out to her, dangling from the tip of his index finger. He rose his eyebrows, leaning against the doorway. She snatched them from his hand, avoiding his eyes.

She looked at then in her grasp and then down to her socked feet. Her green eyes found his, her head tilting a little. “Could you just.. hold onto me while I put these on? I don’t think I can balance myself just yet.”

He nodded, “Sure, “ he then placed a steadying hand on her upper arm, fingers curling around her bicep and applying some pressure. She seemed a little dazed for a second before bending down a little and stepping into the underwear, slipping the fabric up her legs. As she pulled herself upright, she dipped forward and Jughead tightened his grip on her arm, pushing her upright. “Careful,” he reminded her, as her hand disappeared underneath her gown, the fabric shoved up high on her thighs.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking.

She was finished a second later, the fabric fluttering back down around her knees. He let go of her arm then. She then turned her back to him, no longer holding the gown closed. He could see the whole of her back, all smooth skin peppered with freckles, only a couple inches hidden by the sling and swathe that held her arm close to her chest. He could also see that her underwear could barely be considered such.

“Would you tie me?” he looked at him in the mirror, a small smirk on her face now. She had seen how he looked at her.

Fingers darted out, tugging the strings on each side of the gown to meet together, overlapping so that her backside wasn’t on display anymore. He gave a little cough, guiding the IV pole behind her as she walked back to bed. Once he got her settled in and comfortable sitting upright he gestured to the ice chips. “Thirsty? Hungry?”

She looked at the cup, tongue darting out and licking her lower lip. “I mostly just have a dry mouth,” Betty was reaching out for the spoon, taking a spoonful of ice and crunching down.

Jughead crossed his arms over one another, a hand at his mouth. He observed her, the way that the walk back and forth to the bathroom made her even more tired. As if on cue, she yawned.

“Are you having any pain?” he questioned, glancing to her shoulders, which she were holding tightly. Her eyes flicked up to him, mouth around a spoonful of ice. She seemed to think about his question, dropping the spoon to her bedside table with a sigh.

“Yes. It’s not terrible, but it does hurt.” She seemed guilty, like she didn’t want to complain.

“Do you want to take some pain medication?” she frowned at his words, fingers of her left hand fingering the ones on her right that she said were still a little numb. The actual shoulder is the first part to wake up from a nerve block, so he knew it was likely to only get worse.

“I guess so.. just some thing small though, I just want to try and go back to sleep. Forget this day even happened,” she trailed off. Leaning her head back against her pillow. Her eyes fluttered closed and she rubbed the side of her forehead.

Jughead was glad that it seemed she was over that med high phase, and agreed that something small would be a good idea, they could always take something more later.

He gathered up a cup of jello, some water and a packet of saltine crackers along with a pain pill. He encouraged her to eat both as they would help with any nausea with pain meds might cause.

She managed to eat both while he was scanning the med in and doing a little charting while he waited. She downed the pill and then he laid her head back some, fetching a warm blanket to throw over top of her. He had given her the call button this time with a promise to come check on her in a little while. As he was turning to leave, her hand caught his arm, stopping him.

“Thank you, Jughead.” She said, testing out the name he had given her earlier despite his badge reading ‘Forsythe’. He was a little surprised that she remembered their conversation from earlier at all. Maybe that was why she had been so embarrassed, because of the things she had said. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing.”

He gave her a little smile, pulling his arm away and giving her hand a small squeeze before backing up towards the door. “It’s my job, Betty.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Thank you,” she repeated, more softly this time. Her hand falling to her chest and clutching the warm blanket against her chest. Her eyes closed and he turned the light in the room off, cracking her the door to her room.

He stopped in the hallway, the smile on his face reflecting the happiness in his heart. He never knew he could love his job so much.

Maybe he would see what Veronica could do to help him after all. He could tell Betty was the kind of person he wanted to get to know.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead fandom #bughead fic #bughead fam #betty x jughead #jughead x betty #betty cooper #jughead jones

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saibh29 · 8 years ago

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Vane’s gift

Pairings: Vane / Reader

Warnings: Swearing (I feel like i write that one a lot), pain... not much else i don’t think.

REQUEST: tv series!Charles vane x reader where Eleanor and Charles were never together and they don't like each other but they have to get along because she's she reader's best friend and the reader is Charles wife, the reader is heavily pregnant and she goes into labor, Eleanor and Charles are bickering and she snaps at them, shocking them cause she's usually nice, and she's give birth to a baby girl. Fluffy and proud Charles pls

A/N: @vitalanidragonbane your request is all done sweetie! Hope it came out like you wanted I tried really hard to do proud daddy Vane but not sure how it came out! Also just wanted to mention I have never been Pregnant or experience child birth so hope I haven’t upset anyone with my description of it. I tried my best!

*******

Normally you could deal with Eleanor and Charles bickering back and forth between each other, snapping and taunting each other like old men rather than a somewhat vicious pirate and stubborn black market merchant.

Right now though, it was hot. Middle of summer in the Bahama’s hot. The humidity settled on your body and stuck to your skin. It was making the hair on the back of your neck stick and all of your clothes to feel slightly too tight for your body.

“Y/N?”

It took you a moment to realise that both Eleanor and Charles were staring at you expectantly, obviously waiting for you to do or say something. Eleanor was stood hands on her hips staring at you while Charles lounged in your bed booted feet crossed at his ankles. He had a piece of liquorice in his mouth chewing the end which made you smile. The first time you’d told him it wasn’t healthy to smoke his cigars around you now you were pregnant he’d just scowled and muttered something along the lines of ‘fuck off’. You hadn’t seen a cigar since though and he’d suddenly started eating a whole lot of liquorice sticks.

“Y/N will you please tell your husband to back the fuck off my business. What I talk to Flint about is none of his concern”

“Leave her out of this” Vane snarled “Y/N is not some go between whenever I do something that pisses you off”

“Fuck you Vane” Eleanor hissed temper flaring “she was my friend long before she started screwing you”

“Eleanor” you sighed as Charles growled low in his throat dangerously starting to uncurl from his chair. “Can you two please just not do this right now”

“Since when did you always take his side” she demanded stamping one foot like a petulant child who wasn’t getting their own way.

“Ellie” you pressed a hand to your stomach rubbing at the ache there “I don’t even know what it is you’re arguing about this time nor do I want to. I just want the both of you to shut the hell up for a while”

“Y/N” Eleanor looked shocked at your harsh tone, you didn’t think you’d ever snapped at her before.

Vane came over to crouch down in front of you “You alright pet?”

You’d snapped at Vane many times before, it was impossible not to lose your temper with the annoying man at some points. He didn’t look that upset at your snarky tone of voice just vaguely worried.

You moved your head down to rest against his forehead. “I’m just tired and to hot. I just feel… wrong”

“The baby?” he laid his hand on top of your own, rubbing slowly.

“We’re fine. I just need you two to stop yelling for a moment”

Vane got back up looking at Eleanor “Maybe we could continue this… discussion another time”

You’d never heard Vane sound so civil before and obviously neither had Eleanor because she rose one eyebrow at him curiously.

“Now you turn polite and civil? I didn’t know you had it in you Vane”

Vane tensed beside you “I’m trying real hard to keep my temper here Miss Guthrie” he’d sneered out Eleanor’s formal name “I recommend you get the fuck out of here before I stop being so ‘polite’”

“Y/N! Are you really going to let him talk to me like that?”

“Actually I am Ellie. Look just go home for a bit. I’ll see you later on”

Eleanor did not look happy but at your added on ‘please’ she did at least agree to go, only after throwing another evil look at Vane though.

“Why are you even friends with that bitch?”

“Don’t Vane” you asked, not in the mood to deal with him and his temper tantrums right now “she is my friend and that’s all the explaining you need to know right now”

Vane leant over you balancing one hand on each arm of the chair. “You going to tell me what’s actually bothering you?”

“I don’t know” you were telling the truth “everything just feels wrong, its like my skin is too small or something” he rubbed his hand up and down one of your arms obviously unsure what it was he could do about that. Charles was wonderful when someone threatened you, he knew exactly what to do about that. Or when you had needed to learn to swim, he’d managed to sort that problem wonderfully by simply throwing you into the ocean until you’d swam. Right though he didn’t know how to fix this, how to make you feel better and his confusion was showing on his face. You took pity on him smiling softly. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Don’t worry”

Vane sighed going back over to the bed and sitting on the edge. “I’ve never fucking worried so much in my life since this kid happened”

“You don’t want the baby, I know that. We’ve been over this Vane…”

“I want the kid Y/N” he cut you off “I’m just not sure what I’m meant to be doing”

“We can’t do anything Charles. This is just what’s happening” you got up to go and lie down behind him. “Go and talk to Jack, figure out what’s going on with Flint”

“And you?”

“I’m going to rest, I think its just too hot and I need to sleep”

Vane stared at you for a moment longer before obviously deciding you were telling the truth, he leant down and kissed you roughly before leaving. You really were tired and actually in quite a lot of pain. You were fairly sure you knew what was happening, and were confident enough to even guess you still had quite a while before anything major happened. As it was you were just in line for quite a few hours of pain. So while you still could you were planning on sleeping and building up some strength.

*********

“Holy fuck!” you snapped awake crying out with the intense pain in your lower stomach. It was like an iron band had clamped around you and was squeezing mercilessly. Groaning you tried to sit up, not liking the amount of effort it took to get your feet underneath you. When you did manage to stand you could see blood on the sheets of the bed and the pain was coming back again forcing you to sit once more.

You’d never had a child of your own yet but you’d been around plenty of women who had and were fairly certain you were in labour.

“CHARLES!” your scream laced with pain brought Charles running along with Jack who he’d still been talking to not far from the tent you slept in.

“Y/N?” he dropped to his knee’s beside you as you moaned reaching out to clutch to his shoulder. “Y/N what is it?”

“Baby”

“Baby?” you’d never heard Vane sound scared before and in a strange way it calmed you down. You nodding gasping as your stomach twisted once more.

“Captain, I believe Y/N may be having this child” Jack pointed out making you nod once more still not over the last contraction and only able to take short panting intakes of breath.

“She’s having the baby?” Charles repeated apparently in shock himself.

“It does seem that way. Y/N what do you need?”

“Ellie, get Ellie” you hissed “and Max. They know what to do”

“Of course” Jack took off at a speed you appreciated as your contraction finally loosened its hold on you.

“Y/N what do I do?” Vane asked desperately.

You managed a small smile “scared Captain Vane?” you squeezed his hand tightly as with his help you got sat up on the bed leaning against a pile of cushions behind you along with Vane who was cradling your body between his thighs.

“Fuck Y/N” he whispered in your ear. “child birth… Y/N…”

You knew what he wasn’t saying. Child birth was dangerous. There was little to no medicine on Nassau and no doctors worth mentioning. “I’m strong and healthy” you tried to comfort him “We’ll be alright”

“Fuck” Vane whispered it once more in your ear as your whole body tensed up again. Contraction flowing through you. He grabbed your hand as crying out you squeezed as tight as you could.

“Y/N” Eleanor came running into the tent completely ignoring Vane for once and dropping instead down to her knees at the bottom of the bed. Max followed her in with sheets and a pail of water. She glanced at Vane.

“I’m fucking staying” he growled out before Max could even voice the idea that he left.

“He can stay” you whispered as you finally got your breath back.

“Alright” Max came over to Eleanor the two of the getting prepared and starting to help you.

What followed you couldn’t recall entirely all you knew that it was pain unlike anything you’d ever felt before. You knew you were screaming, loudly. You knew you’d sworn and cursed at Vane about never coming near you again. You knew you’d probably hurt him as well from how tightly you’d been clinging to his hand and you also knew that after what felt like forever Eleanor had looked up a beaming smile on her face as wrapped in a clean white sheet she’d placed a wriggling bundle on your chest.

“It’s a girl” Eleanor said softly as you stared down at the slightly wrinkled face of your daughter. She was staring up at you and Vane with eyes just as startlingly blue as he fathers.

“Come on Eleanor” Max pulled her away but Eleanor came over to you. Smiling she leant over and kissed first the baby’s head then yours.

“Congratulations” she said quietly, she glance at Vane and nodded once at him. You thought it was quite possibly the most civil interaction they’d ever had between them.

Vane was still sat behind you arms now coming around you to gently lay a hand on the baby’s head. “You did it Y/N”

“We did it” you corrected him. “Look at her Charles, she’s perfect”

“You both are” he corrected you this time as you laughed softly.

********

The soft cries of a baby woke you sometime further into the night, that and the sudden upheaval of the bed. You were about to move when you heard Charles’s voice low and soothing.

“Shhh, come on poppet shush, we need to let mummy get some sleep, she’ll make our lives fucking miserable if she doesn’t get some sleep”

Keeping quiet you opened your eyes watching as a bare chested Vane picked up their tiny daughter holding her against his skin. She snuffled a few times before going quiet against him, tiny hand splayed open above her father’s heart.

“Well fuck” he whispered to her “I didn’t realise it would be like this. You know what kid I love your mother like I never thought it was possible to love another person, but hell we’ve not even known you longer than 24 hours and I know I’d give up the world for you”

You were going to blame excess hormones on the fact that there were tears in your eyes as you listened to him. The baby snuffled once more and wriggled against him as Vane’s large hand gently rubbed her back settling her down once more.

“Looks like I’m a natural huh kid? We’re going to be just fine with each other” when their daughter didn’t answer he continued talking. “Don’t know what I was fucking scared of, after all it’s not like anything as tiny as you could possibly hurt me” he paused once more “you know what, I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of you coming along and changing my life all over again. It was hard enough getting used to having your mother around all the time and dealing with all the female shit she brought with her. But having a kid, well that was a bit more domesticated than I ever wanted to be. Never been so wrong in my whole life kid.”

He turned around eyes meeting your own over the room, hooded and dark you saw his mouth twist up into a small smile. “You’re ours kid and nothing is ever going to hurt you I promise you that… Jasmine Vane”

Your heart fluttered once more, Jasmine had been your mother’s name. That he would do that was making you cry once more as you nodded “Jasmine Vane”

Vane came back over to the bed laying down with Jasmine still resting on his chest and pulling you into the other side of his body. You were both his gifts in life he thought to himself. One’s he didn’t think he’d done anything to deserve but hell if he was ever letting go of.

@angelaiswriting @selldraug @angryares

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twinklefaerie12 · 8 years ago

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Azriel Fan fiction, Chapter 11

*Super fluff coming up* Also smut warning

Amara yawned as she woke up slowly, a small beam of light illuminating the back of her form curled up in the blankets. She reached her hand over, searching for Azriel finding only sheets. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, drowsily looking at the empty bed.

She sat up slowly, pushing herself up with her hands as she looked around the room. The curtains had been drawn, mostly save for the small opening where the light seemed in. The bedroom door was shut just a crack.

She raised a brow as she slowly slipped out of bed, the floor cold as she walked out of the bedroom. The living room was empty too and she frowned. "Where did he go?" She mumbled to herself and hugged her arms.

Amara tugged at the sleeves of Azriel's shirt until they came down past her fingertips and walked over to the door that lead out into the open hallway. The house was surprisingly quiet as she slipped from the room, going down the hall towards the main part of the house.

They both might want to move out of Rhys's house, considering the couple has probably had sex on every inch of the home and the possibility of hearing their 'fun' was not appealing.

As she walked, she started to smell strong coffee wafting through from the kitchen and she sighed. "There you are," she mumbled and smiled softly.

She walked through the living room, walking into the kitchen where Azriel stood. Bare chested and wearing those low-rising pants that showed off his hips nicely. She couldn't help it but her eyes glazed over his muscled back, the way they contracted when his arms moved as he cooked. The way his back had those two dips before the pants covered his firm ass. Cauldron that ass was glorious, just as wonderful as the package on the other side of him.

Amara blushed when Azriel turned his head, exposing part of his bare and muscled chest. He noticed her, standing in the doorway drooling like an idiot over the male's body. "Enjoy the view?" He asked, his voice husky and rough from sleep. Had he just woken up a little bit ago?

"Very much," She replied, walking into the kitchen and pressed a kiss to his lips. It felt so nice to finally kiss those soft lips. "What are you doing?" she asked, sitting herself up onto the counter careful of the warm coffee mug filled to the brim with black coffee.

She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the coffee and he chuckled. "Don't like it?"

She shook her head, just as he took a long sip of the coffee and stood right in the middle of her legs. She rolled her eyes, the mug being set down onto the counter next to her as he pressed a long kiss to her lips. "Still hate it?"

Amara nodded and he kissed her again. "What about now?" He mumbled against her lips, not even bothering to pull away. She grinned and shook her head again. His lips pressed fully against hers again as he continued to kiss her over and over again until he sent her into a fit of giggles.

Azriel grinned, kissing her cheek and went of to the waffle maker, popping out four small waffles and she gaped. "You made me waffles?" She said with big, dreamy eyes making his huff out a laugh.

"Obviously." He walked over, setting down the plate beside her and got to work filling the machine then flipping it over to make his own.

"Be careful Azriel, I could get used to this kind of treatment." She said, plopping a sliced strawberry into her mouth.

Azriel leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and watched her closely. His eyes danced with mischief making her blush deeply. She grabbed the edges of his shirt, carefully tugging them lower. She swore a growl slipped from his lips at her covering herself up and she smirked.

"You don't get any more peeks until you are better." She said teasingly, crossing her legs on the counter. Azriel rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he walked back over to her and rubbed the still exposed parts of her thighs.

"Are you sure you can last that long?" He asked challengingly, easily pulling her legs apart again. He pulled her to the edge of the kitchen counter. His eyes pinned her to the spot, her breath hitching in her throat at the look in his eyes. They way they lit up and danced, telling her everything he intended to do to her. To push her to her limits.

"Are you sure you can?" She retorted, a bit more breathless than she wanted.

He swiftly and gracefully placed her foot against his shoulder, pressing very soft kisses to her ankle. Then moved down her leg in a line of kisses. Her head tilted back slightly, leaning against the bottom of a cabinet as his lips moved further and further down the insides of her legs. His breath sending waves of frustration through her. He was so close to where she wanted him, needed him most.

"Oh please, not in the damn kitchen." A deep voice whined from the doorway.

Her eyes that had been half closed, ready for the pleasure that should be shooting through her body, sprung wide open. Azriel froze in his spot, only making the warmth between her legs and the need to shove Azriel's face there only that much worse.

Amara quickly pulled her leg from Azriel's shoulder, squeezing her legs shut. One to try and ease her sensitivity, and to hide herself from Cassian's eyes.

"I already have to worry about Feyre and Rhysand, now I have the both of you to suffer through."

"What are you whining about?" Mor asked, walking up behind him and grinned at the state the new couple was in. "Oooooh I see."

Azriel and Amara's cheeks were burning a bright red, Azriel halfway to his knees and stood up straight. He didn't turn his body around to the, one glance down at the waistline of his pants was explanation enough. Azriel gave them both a menacing glare, keeping his mouth shut. He probably wouldn't be able to form words anyway.

Rhys walked up into the kitchen, passing Mor and Cassian and chuckled at Azriel. "Don't worry, they're just jealous." He said pouring himself a mug full of coffee and then another. He went to walk out before pausing, turning back to them with that famous smirk of his. "Oh, next time I recommend a table or the island." He winked at the two before walking back to Feyre in their room.

The waffle maker finally beeped, Azriel rushing over to the machine giving him something to do and think about other than the desires he was just about to fulfill.

"Couples are insufferable." Cassian mumbled, going to pour himself a mug of coffee.

Amara did not move from the counter, too afraid when she jumped off there would be a small stain from where she had been sitting. Her legs squeezed tight and Azriel's shirt tugged way down to almost her knees.

"You and Nesta are the most cringey display I have ever had to watch." Mor said, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed.

Azriel moved quickly, placing his waffles on a plate and dumping the bowl of sliced strawberries on top. He picked up his mug and walked over to Amara.

"We aren't, cringey." Cassian said in defense to which Mor went on a very long rant about how long it took them to get together.

"Stand in front of me."He asked quietly.

She blushed, slipping off of the counter and grabbed her own plate of food. Standing right in front of him she lead him out of the kitchen where Cassian and Mor continued to bicker about his relationship with Nesta.

"Well that was an, interesting start to the morning." She mumbled as they walked back into the room locking the door behind them.

Azriel's problem had yet to disappear entirely as he walked over to the couch and sat down.

"There are too many people in this house." He grumbled and Amara nodded.

Sitting beside him, she set the plate of waffles down into her lap as she crossed her legs. Realizing that was a bad idea she laid them out flat over the edge of the couch.

"I hope you plan on sharing those." She said with a smile, pointing to the large heap of strawberries on his plate.

Azriel chuckled, looking over at her, his cheeks still flushed a deep pink. "You have to earn them."

Amara grinned, leaning over and pecked his lips. "How many does that get me?" She asked softly.

"Depends, do I get a longer kiss?" Azriel replied with a smirk.

"Mmm yes, a very long kiss too."

Azriel placed a handful of strawberries onto her plate, crashing his lips down onto hers. They kissed, long and slow as she had promised. She nibbled on his bottom lip, making a deep growl come from Azriel.

"That just earned you extra." He growled placing a few more onto her plate.

Amara giggled and pecked his lips gently, sitting back beside him and leaned into his side. She pressed a kiss to his exposed shoulder gently.

"Too bad Cassian interrupted us, I would have given you all of the strawberries after that." Azriel said softly, pressing a kiss to her head.

His words only made the discomfort between her legs come back, squeezing them shut again. "Such a wicked mouth, yours."

"A wicked mouth that could do wonders." Azriel whispered into her ear, making her shiver. He chuckled, picking up his fork and started eating the strawberries off of his plate.

"Such a tease," She responded trying to void her mind of all the fantasies of what his mouth felt like on her.

Amara picked up her fork, digging into her waffle and smiled. "Thank you for breakfast." She said between mouthfuls of her delicious waffle. She really could get used to him make her food in the morning.

He placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Only for you my dear."

They enjoyed their breakfast happily, both of their little problems subsiding for the time being. The coffee made Amara roll her eyes, hating the smell in the room. Once they both finished, their plates stacked on the coffee table they curled up into each others sides.

Amara gently played with his fingers, the house no longer silent. Mor and Cassian were still babbling in the living room, Feyre and Rhysand joining them for breakfast. No doubt they had a different kind of feast beforehand.

Azriel slipped his fingers through her hair, looking out the window. "They'll be asking us to join them soon. We have to figure out everything that happened yesterday, search other whoever decided to attack us."

"I know." She said, pressing soft kisses to his fingertips.

She knew they had to discuss their situation, figure out how to deal with it and protect their city. But she couldn't help but be selfish for a moment, wanting some time alone with her mate. Her mate, the thought made her smile as she lightly tugged on that bond again.

"You still have to accept it you know, the bond." Azriel said lightly, watching her closely as she kissed his fingers.

"Hmmm," She looked up at him, her eyes taking their time to run over his chest before they landed on his face. His Hazel eyes captured her own, a hint of lust still lurking in the shadows of his eyes. "I will soon I promise." She said softly, pressing move kisses to his hands.

Amara heard Azriel chuckle, shifting himself closer to her making her smile. Amara carefully slipped herself into his lap, running her hands up and down his muscled chest. His hands found her hips, holding them loosely as she admired his chest. "Such a pretty chest," She mumbled pressing kisses along his pecs.(lol last minute smut oops)

Azriel's eyes trailed her lips as they pressed against his skin lower and lower until she had pushed herself onto her knees and started kissing his abs.

"I feel so bad, letting you go all night and all morning without any release. I think you deserve a reward for this morning." She said boldly, glancing up at him as she kissed above his waistline. She usually never spoke so boldly but the lingering discomfort was driving her mad. And after seeing him the other night her mind had been racing with curiosity.

Azriel's breath got caught in his throat as her fingers brushed against his lower stomach, gently urging his pants down, down, down until his length was bare before her. She could feel herself almost dripping from the sight, her chest rising and falling quickly. Cauldron boil her it was huge.

She let her hands grab his length, rubbing him slowly. His groans were deep and music to her ears. His head tilted back, eyes pinning her between his legs as she worked. Rubbing him up and down his full length, her mouth soon wrapping around the tip of him, sending a shiver through his body.

Her tongue flicked against the tip of him, continuing to rub the base of him as she took him into her mouth. His moans and groans driving her mad as she slowly bobbed her head. Her lips wrapped around his hardened length. She sucked and licked at him until he had to silence his ever loudening moans of pleasure.

Her head moved faster, tasting him in her mouth more and more. His hand found her hair, grabbing a fist full and urged her to move faster. He didn't voice it, didn't voice what he wanted but used his hand to lightly bob her head faster.

She purred against him, sending more shivers through his spine as groans rumbled through the room. His breathing picked up, hips started to push himself further into her mouth.

His breath hitched and his hips stalled, her mouth filled with his release, one last moan slipping from his lips whispering her name.

Amara swallowed every last drop, pulling her lips away from him and licked them.

Both of their cheeks were flushed, but the smirk that slipped onto his lips told her he wasn't done. He picked her up off the floor, switching placed with her and used his hands to spread her legs open wide. "Your turn."

#azriel #fan fiction #fan fic #wingspan #smut #sjmaas #Sarah j maas #acowar #acomaf #shadowbat #shadowsinger #spymaster #azriel is kinky #azriel is my cinnamon role #chapter 11

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