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stevenbasic · 2 months

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Growing into the Job, Post 403: Sock Puppets

“Gooood morning…good morning Dr. Jjjjjjj…” I was awakened by, of all things, a boop on the nose. My face scrunched up, Melissa's voice cutting through the fog of my deep slumber. When I dared to open my eyes, just a slit at first but then wider, what I saw wasn’t Melissa’s face greeting me, but instead the thing that booped me on the nose. “Time to wake up for me, Mr. Sleepyhead!” it said.

A sock, one of mine. On her hand. A sock puppet.

Melissa giggled, and booped me again, this time grabbing my nose like the sock puppet was biting me.

“Rrrrr!” she growled, pretending to be the puppet, speaking for it in a weirdly comic voice and using her fingers inside it to open and close like its mouth, “Me hungry!”

My body ached, arguing and unwilling to be pulled from its stupor. It was an abrupt awakening, and I was trying my best to blink myself awake. Morning, maybe soon after sunrise. The sock puppet - thin, light gray, from the dress pair I’d worn yesterday for the photoshoot - danced and wiggled in front of me. I was laying on my back, she on her right side next to me on my left. I couldn’t help but smile a little at her antics, trying not to think too much that this was like a mother with a two-year old.

“Me want breakfast!”

She giggled again, delighted at her little game. It was so early!

“Want you for breakfast!” it said, and dove into my neck.

“Melissa!” I laughed, “Stop!” That tickled!

As I struggled to come more to life, I was aware of a weird taste in my mouth, like I hadn’t brushed my teeth in a long time. Which I guess I didn’t last night, but this was particularly…I don't know…sour? Also, wow, I was exhausted. I could barely move and - double wow. My nethers were sore. Like I’d been put through a wringer. How many times last night had we..?

“Nom nom nom, nom nom nom!” the sock puppet sang, taking nibbles of me, tickly, making me squirm and laugh. My neck - “nom nom…” my chest - “nom nom…” and, having pushed the covers aside, my morning wood - “nom NOM!”

“Nnnnghhh…ughh…!” I was sore. “Melissa, ouch,” I pleaded, half-laughing, my hand reaching down to stay her, grabbing her at the forearm. My sock, built to fit my size-6 foot, barely made it to her wrist.

“Oooo Melisssssy is so sorry!” the sock puppet apologized, backing off my how-the-hell-can-I-still-be-hard cock, “She made you do sexy too many times? When you sleepy-sleep?”

When I slept? “Wait what?”

“Yes yes Melissssy eat, eat you, five times, nom nom nom!” the sock-thing announced, dancing animatedly above my face, “and you getted to do milk. Melissssy eat, you eat, but sock hungry still!!”

‘Getted to do milk’? And…? “F-five times?”

“Yes, sweetie, five times <giggle!>, while you were sleeping,” Melissa answered, now in her own voice, “You seemed like you needed it. You were so full up!”

Oh my god what the hell.

“But I’m sorry if it was too much,” she apologized, her pout not able to hide a proud little smirk, like she wasn’t really all that sorry. She started to peel the sock off her wrist. “You slept right through them.”

So…she’d given me blow jobs? In my sleep?? Five of them?!? “Jesus, Melissa…” I muttered, incredulous..

“Language,” she scolded.

What? Now I’m not allowed to swear?

“Did the monkeys disturb you last night?” she asked, sock now off her hand.

“The…what?”

“The monkeys, the boys I had come over to fix things downstairs. We made a mess, you and me,” she answered, pausing for a second. Listening to something. “They’re still here, I’m pretty sure. Finishing up.”

She’d taken the sock, unrolled it again

“‘The boys’? Like, the construction guys from the office?” I asked. Maybe I did hear them? I seemed to recall vague dreams, men chanting. “How d- Nnngh!!”

I groaned when she slid the sock down over my erection.

“M-Melissa what-?”

“Shhhh…” she giggled, smoothing the thin sock over me, “You’re sore. This is soft.” She grabbed my sock-sheathed sword, causing my hips to buck. “Feel nice?”

I groaned again, eyes fluttering. Oh my god yes but I’m so tired.

“Noooooo…!” she sang, suddenly scooching up and leaning in, bringing her face to inches from mine, above me. Her hair, a huge, huge thick blanket of it covered us. “No sleeping! Not just yet!” she whined, pouting again, “Talk to me. Just for a minute. I’ve been laying here all night looking at you, but I have to go to work soon.”

Work? oh man. It’s like, what? Thursday?

Her left hand was aside my pillow, supporting her weight, her right hand still held my overworked cock. She gave it a squeeze.

Nnngh oh god Whoah. Stars in front of my eyes, my lids fluttering again.

“I don't like how sleepy you are,” she complained, girlishly, “I have to learn not to feed you so late.” She shook her head of hair a bit, settled it even more luxuriously about me. This woman knew how to keep a man interested, but what was she saying?.

My brow furrowed. Feed me? What did she mean by that? I’d barely eaten anything last night, right? Though, this weird taste in my mouth?

Whatever confusion I had around these cryptic comments quickly faded as I looked up at her. Here, in the morning, sunlight filtering transcendently through her soft dark hair, she was absolutely stunning. Gorgeous, and she knew it. I could tell by her smile. Plus she smelled great. Was it a shampoo? It gave me a little energy, when I breathed it in.

She giggled, seeing me so taken by her, and gave my cock a gentle stroke. She backed up, away from me just a bit, her face now maybe a foot or so above mine, eyes locked on me, stroked me again. Still, her hair was a thick curtain all around us, thick and glorious and….long. Really long.

“God, you have a lot of hair,” I marveled, “Like…yikes. A real lot.” It wasn’t this long yesterday, was it?

She giggled, smiling down at me enigmatically.

“How’d it get so long, s-so fast?” I asked, admittedly confused.

“I told you, baby, I’m changing into what you like,” she replied, plainly, “You like long hair.”

”I do?”

“Yes, apparently,” she continued, shaking out her mane again, thick waves of it shimmering around us, “so mine grows really long, really fast.”

“Like, overnight? But that’s impossible…”

“Tell that to my scissors. I cut it every morning.”

What?? “You have to cut your hair every morning?”

“Yeah, unless I want to look like a hair monster.”

“A-and you think that’s because of me??”

“Shh it’s okay, I don’t mind,” she said, thinking I was apologizing. No! This was just crazy talk!

“No Melissa I don’t want-“

“Hey it’s okay lots of guys don’t even realize their preferences, or where they come from,” she said, smiling tenderly down at me, “But, a lot of times they come from, well…<giggle!>…I have some ideas. Lemme guess - your mom had long hair?”

Just then, a memory flashed. It was one of the few I had of my mother, who’d left me when I was a toddler. She was leaning over me in my crib, her huge waves of dark hair making a little private space for us…

Melissa was looking at me, seeing my eyes widen as I recalled it. She looked intently at me, and I had the feeling she was looking deep. “Big boobs too, huh? Your mom?” she asked.

God help me, yes. In the memory, my mother was wearing a scoopneck, I could look right down her top. Her breasts were big.

“So, breasts as big as Mommy’s, huh?” she said, enigmatically, as over me her upper body shifted, her bare, glorious chest rising over me, “That’s what you want?”

What was she saying?!?

“M-Melissa no I-“

“it’s okay. It’s natural, for men to want what their mommies had,” she said, her hand starting once again to slowly stroke my cock through my thin wool sock. Melissa’s enormous bare breasts now filled my vision. “Men want Mommy’s boobs, Mommy’s hair, Mommy’s hips,” she purred, “Maybe even Mommy’s hands…”

“oh-oh my god M-Melissa n-n-no-…”

My protests sounded small, half-hearted - even to me.

“Stop complaining, baby, I don’t mind,” she cooed from above me, now more firmly stroking my tender erection, “Let mommy do this for you…”

”w-wait wh-what?!”

“Oh hush…don’t try to deny it. I know I’m a bit of a mother-figure for you,” she giggled, bringing jiggles through the massive mountains that hovered over me, “And you loved when I called myself mama last night.”

“oh my g-…” I groaned, my whole body shuddering as her stroking was having its intended effect, along with the view she was affording me, the bulging undersides of her breasts, “J-Jesus Christ, Melissa…”

“Hey, language,” she reprimanded, “But shhhh it’s okay, I love that I remind you of her, make you feel safe and warm and well-taken care of.” She stroked me, stroked me, the fabric of the sock only heightening the sensation. “But I’m going to do it better than she did. I’m going to be the best mommy-girlfriend for you. The best mommy ever for my good little boy.”

“oh…god…Melissa…”

“mmmhm that’s right,” she purred, “You like that idea, don’t you? Mommy girlfriend?”

“nnnngh M-Melissa, wait…” Was I ready for this? “h-hold on..”

“Shhh it’s okay. I like doing it. Like, last night, I loved feeding you your bottle.”

Again: ”What?!?”

This time I was really incredulous.

With a giggle, Melissa bent down low towards me, causing me to inadvertently back up as much as I could into my pillow as her face looked into me. Suddenly she seemed so huge that it felt like if she were to open her mouth she could eat me. Raven hair, again, piled around us warm and soft, and her full voice was barely above a whisper as she purred down into my face.

“My little man was so fussy and moaning in his sleep,” Melissa explained, with both sympathy and amusement dancing in her eyes, “And I felt so, so bad for you. You had a bit of a scare yesterday, didn’t you? With those mean men trying to come take you away?”

“Oh…y-yeah…” I replied, recalling the attorneys. There was no way I was going to argue with her on this point. That had stressed me out.

“And so I figured, my baby could use a little warm milk, to help him sleep nice,” Melissa continued, kissing my cheek now with her soft lips. “And so I went downstairs, came back, laid down on the bed and fed you some. And guess what, it settled you right down!”

“Wait. So you…came in and…gave me milk!?” I asked already squirming in the indignity, even as her left hand held my solid cock.

“Mmhm. With a baby bottle,” she answered matter-of-factly, “I had one of Katarina’s in the fridge.”

“You f-fed me from a baby bottle!?!” I exclaimed, the shock, the emasculating humiliation of it making me nearly disintegrate…especially as I realized it was probably- “Was it her breastmilk again?!?” Last weekend I’d been - I figured as a joke, right? - tricked into drinking milk that Katarina, my new Polish migrant employee and a new mom, had pumped. “Please don’t tell me it w-“

“mmhm of course,” Melissa replied, “Of course it was Katarina’s.”

“Y-you can’t do th-that!!” I sputtered, feeling the humiliation just piling on me.

“Oh, but it worked so well! You drank it right down. I think you liked it,” she said, “In fact, I think you loved it.”

And I loved watching you get smaller - I didn’t know it then, but I know it now: that's what she was thinking. Katarina, by some strange ability, was able to infuse her milk with these effects.

“Melissa!! What the hell?!?”

“Hey milk is the only thing you can easily stomach, it makes you relaxed, makes you feel good,” she offered.

“Ahhg! But it’s breastmilk!! Katarina’s breastmilk!! ” I looked in her eyes, and it was like I could hear exactly what she was thinking at me, in a voice as clear as if she was speaking it:

Would it be better if it was mine? Would you still refuse that?

My mind started reeling

“You looked like such a precious little baby,” Melissa cooed, picking up back into a slow rhythm of her hand, my cock. She looked right into my eyes, examined my face. “Ugh…it almost hurts how cute you are sometimes!”

She seemed to consider something for a moment, and then leaned in, closed her eyes, and engulfed my mouth in a long, slow, deep kiss. Like yesterday, she wasn’t playing around, this was no small smooch. Her big lips wrapped around my entire mouth, sealing it shut completely, and her tongue pushed into me and utterly took over. I stared helplessly into Melissa’s eyes as her tongue threatened to go down my throat. I began to see stars and hoped for the first few seconds that she would pull away from the kiss and let me breathe, but then almost immediately melted right into the kiss. If I need to breathe, she’ll do it for me. And yes, when she finally did push air into me, a moment later, I tried hard not to groan in the deep pleasure I felt.

My eyes fluttered, and I began to think. Adjusting to this new world represented a constant challenge. My mind was deprived of all the oxygen except hers, but in that moment I could see it. Like a tiny sunrise in the back of my head, light shone for me, allowing me to see and consciously accept our building dynamic. Melissa was sweet, at many times almost childlike, but seeing what she could physically do last night, the wonders her body showed me evidenced a level of power to which I could never come close. I knew that, if I let it, it could be a power that would consume me. Despite her obvious physical superiority though, she had never raised her voice, let alone her hand to me.

She breathed for me again, her eyes still locked on mine. I could see reflected in them the truth: that with all her strength she would never touch me with anything but tenderness. In that moment I accepted her again as the alpha, and took another step in accepting this new reality and forgetting the old world. I would not only let Melissa be my anchor and shield in this new one, if she wanted to be my mother figure that…that was okay too.

She broke our kiss, looking deep into my eyes and feeling exactly what I was thinking. When she spoke again her voice was wracked with emotion.

“Oh, baby, yes,” she said, pushing herself up again to rise over me until her gigantic breasts hovered over my face, “I love you so much.”

I stared up at her, in absolute love. These are the greatest tits god ever created, and they’re all for me.

“Yes, sweetie, yes” I heard her say, “but God’s got nothing to do with it.”

Suddenly, her nipple was in my mouth, the great mass of her right breast mashed into my face. Her hand pumped now, pumped at my sock-covered cock. I sucked, sucked on her but soon mmmph… mmmph… ”MMmph!!!”

“Can’t breathe, honey?” she giggled, pulling up off me to allow me air.

“N-n-no I…I…” I could barely form words, but managed to speak after a moment. “It’s…it’s like The Attack of the Blob.”

Melissa giggled, her hand slowing for a moment down between my legs. “The what?”

“The Blob? The movie monster?” Oh god I hope she doesn’t think I’m calling her fat.

“Like Godzilla?” she answered, “The big, big monster?” She began to sit up, rising higher above me.

“Yeah kinda,” I answered, lost now in appreciating the incredible physique of her now towering torso. Her underboob was astounding, it alone dwarfing my head.

She’d paused, letting me look up at her.

“Feeling small, baby?” she purred.

“y-yes,” I answered, without a thought.

“Mmmmm good,” she growled. She’d begun, again, to stroke my cock through my gray dress sock. “And you’re okay with it now, getting smaller?”

That set me back a bit. “Uh…wh-what do you mean.”

“Last night, sweetie,” she said, languorously stroking me now, indulging me, “last night you said you wanted it, to get so much smaller than me, so I could hold you and keep you safe like you were inside me.”

My face flushed. “it’s…it’s always been a fantasy,” I managed, shrinking down under the ignominy of it.

“Oh, sweetie, I know,” she said, shifting her body now, moving, pushing covers out of the way and spreading my legs. My cock still in hand - and still in my thin gray dress sock - Melissa now kneeled down between my knees. Her breasts were squashed between her arms, giving me a mind-numbing amount of cleavage to stare at. “How about now you start thinking about living out your fantasies? Can you do that for me?”

“oh my god okay,” I agreed, not having the will to do anything else, watching as she shifted again, leaning down, positioning herself and her glorious chest right behind my huge, throbbing organ in its thin woolen sheath.

“Like Mr. Sock here,” she said, referring to my cock, who had now taken over the role of the sock puppet, “He knows what he likes, and he's not afraid to enjoy it, are you Mr. Sock?”

At that, she pulled him - it, I mean ‘it’, or, uh, ‘me’ - back into her cleavage. He vanished, all but completely, maybe just the fabric-sheathed head mushrooming out near the top. “There we go…” she purred, moving her body just enough so that now maybe more of him pushed up out of her tits, then slid back in to disappear. The sleeve of wool sock around my shaft, the rubbing of its fabric over my skin, only added the sensation of the muscular caress of her tits around me. “There we go….”

I groaned. Holy shit.

She giggled. “Yeah, Mr. Sock knows what he likes,” Melissa began, rubbing herself up and down my length again, and then again, so slowly, “He doesn’t mind being so much smaller than me, he doesn’t mind at all…he knows it only makes it better.”

“oh god, oh god, oh god yes,” I groaned, watching as my 6’8” superhuman girlfriend with tits the size of watermelons began to titfuck me with consummate ease. My sock-puppet cock slid in, and out. In, and out. The soft, rhythmic motions up and down my overly sensitive erection left me speechless.

“The Attack of the Blob, right?” she chuckled, squashing her chest even more bounteously around my shaft, until I couldn’t see him at all. Her voluptuousness was everywhere. “He doesn’t seem to mind getting eaten by the Blob, no. No, not at all…”

Still she shifted on me, moving her torso, her shoulders and arms in just the right way to titfuck me, up and down, up and down.

“He seems happy being surrounded by me, hm?”

It was too much. I was already completely spent at this point. I’d barely found the strength to wake up, my body shocked awake by Melissa and her ‘little friend.’ I was tender from god knows how many ejaculations yesterday and last night, and the emotions of the morning were already exhausting. I found myself - despite being subsumed in the pleasure of the world’s greatest titfuck - a bit concerned. I could take it, now, sure…but for how much longer? How will I handle this if she’s still growing? And, even worse, if I was still shrinking? In “The Blob”, the creature absorbed its victims. Was Melissa slowly doing that already, to me?

“Mr. Sock likes it so much, being in there, doesn’t he?” she spoke, her voice beginning to take up the urgency of her task. She was intending to make me come like this, her eyes locked on my open-jawed face as she pumped her spectacular torso up and down on me. “Tell me, Mr. Sock, tell me you like being in there, surrounded by Melisssssy.”

“y-yes…yes I do,” I said, for the love of god answering for my dick, whose head popped for a second here, a second there, out of her upper cleavage near her collarbone. I could see the dark stain of a wet pre-come on the light gray fabric of the sock. “yes please…”

Her eyes flashed. She wanted more. “Tell me you like being in there, where it’s so soft, inside Mommy.” <pump, pump>

“Oh uuuggh…Oh my god yes,” I groaned.

“Tell me again.” <pump, pump> “Tell me what you want.”

“I…I want to be inside you.”

Now she groaned herself. “Ohh..oh god yes sweetie yes of course you do.” <pump, pump> “Tell me your mommy has big boobs, tell me she has big hair, just like Melissssy.”

“oh my god…she had…”

My voice failed me. I couldn’t say it.

But Melissa pressed on.

“Tell me you want her to feed you like she did last night, tell me you want the bottle.”

“oh god Melissssy yes..”

“Tell me you want the breast.”

“yes..! yes..!”

“Yes, baby, Yes Yes,” she moaned, “Come for Mommy!”

“NNNNNGGGHHH!!!” I groaned, “NNNNGHHH!”

“COME!”

NNNNGH! NNNGH! NNNNGH!!! Right into her, right between her breasts. Right in her magnificent, pillowy cleavage my cock exploded into the sock-condom each pump lubricated by my own jucies, into the fabric of “Mr Sock” making him-

NNgh! NNgh! NNNgh!

-making him - oh god oh god oh god - fill up, the wet slobber of my juices already heavy and thick and making the thin wool darken darken darken, each time it appeared above the swell of her breasts the come stain blossoming bigger and bigger and bigger and-

She pulled it off.

NNGh! My bare skin, now, sliding up between her tits.

She squeezed the sock, drools of come bursting forth from it onto her chest, lubricating us. “Come! Come on, Mr. Sock, come!” she still urged, she still commanded me.

Still orgasming, still spurting - holy god how am I making this much?!? - I dumped more, more, more onto her chest, into her cleavage - slippery, slippery, slippery.

“oh oh oh god…” I moaned. Pain! My loins, tendons, thighs all screaming. But also so much pleasure!

Nngggh…

nnnngh….

nnnnnngh….

She eased me through it.

“Come on baby, come on honey, that’s right,” she cooed, “come for Mommy…”

“oh my god…oh my god…”

“That’s okay baby, get it out, get it all out.”

“s-so much…” I whined, as my climax waned, “so much…” My vision had already begun to darken.

“Mmm hm…” she purred, “so much for me.”

She began to rub my come into her skin, with the palm and fingers of her left hand smearing the spent, sodden sock all over her chest. I watched, and felt my eyes becoming heavy.

“There you go baby, all better now,” she consoled me, using the wet sock to gently stroke my member, which still twitched in her cleavage, little spasms, “all better for your day.”

“Mmm hmm yeah…” I murmured, feeling sleep quickly approaching.

“I have a busy day at work,” she told me, “we canceled your patients for today, it’s better if you stay home here.”

“h-home?” I repeated, tremulous of voice, “b-by myself?”

“Oh, sweetie, no, you won’t be alone,” she said, still stroking and gently squeezing me, “Randi will stay with you today, babysitting.”

“Babysitting..??”

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sorry for the lack of image; the one I cooked up is too much for tumblr.

#growingintothejob

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pitchou8910 · 4 years

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Here is my @pmdsecretdelibirb gift for @volcanicbakemeat ! It was a lot of fun to draw these adorable 'mons!

#my art #pokemon #pmd #addfkkljjada I forgot to post this on the due date yesterday but my giftee had already seen it dont worry #lets pretend it's still the 28th where I live ok shhhh

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origingened · 3 years

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while the rest of the islanders react to the end of the experiment, one in particular is still missing....

#i think i'll post their challenge drabble later tonight #feel free to reach to their absence if you wanna? shrugs #ik i was posting on them yesterday but i want them to be missing for a week so shhhh pretend that all happened a while ago

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critterpdf · 3 years

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shh pretend i posted this yesterday shhhh

(piper belongs to @saltylenpai)

#happy 8/4 a day late!#my art #splatoon #splatoon 2 #agent 4 #agent 8 #agent 32 #04: august #08: piper #ship: pumpkin spice #im not tagging all the characters who appear in this dfbdfds #gremlin ass is ellis tho. agent 3 we love to see them

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softyoongiionly · 4 years

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Bunny Do

You and your husband live in a cottage together in the forest.

Welcome to a day in your life.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, slice of life au, domestic au, DO I EVER WRITE ANY OTHER KIND OF JUNGKOOK? No. I have a problem

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Well hey there. Look it’s Aqua, back with ANOTHER Jungkook domestic au. Seriously someone needs to stop me. This is just excessive at this point. Anyways, I freaking love you. Yes you. Hi, I love YOU. Ok bye.

this fic is dedicated to @bulletproofbirdy whom I love with my whole entire heart. The war has begun.

IMPORTANT: Please check out this link and do what you can! All lives can’t matter until black lives do.

https://softyoongiionly.tumblr.com/post/621111679997050880/jakegyllenhaals-here-is-a-carrd-for-blm-here

Warnings: swearing, Jungkook abs, smut (18+ only plz)

Chaos is not something you’ve been apart of for quite some time.

You traded in your busy life of hustling and turned away the bustling city you were born in to retreat into what could only be described as paradise.

Sure, the bugs can be a bit overwhelming and mating season amongst your animal neighbors doesn’t provide the most serene of soundtracks but, it was home.

Home is now a small cottage nestled into the forest at the base of Mount Iridescence.

The exterior is made of smooth grey stone and the roof, which your husband laid by hand, is made from the finest oak the two of you could find.

Of course, the exterior is covered in greenery, it wouldn’t be a cottage paradise if it weren’t.

The front of the cottage is adorned with a massive flower garden full of white daisies, pink roses, yellow tulips and tons of baby’s breath.

Your porch served multiple purposes; housing the ridiculous amount of plants you’ve nursed, providing shelter to the occasional racoon or squirrel and, allowing you and your husband to watch the sun kiss the crest of the mountains every evening.

The interior of your cottage was intentionally simple. Other than your husband’s many homemade ceramic pieces, the main source of décor was of course, more greenery. White linen, chocolate colored clay and, delicate lace also accented the inside of your home.

Behind the cottage was essentially a small zoo, complete with a dozen chickens, a handful of geese, a cow named Jezabel, a llama named Su and, two baby bunnies named Floof and Tokki.

Beside the animals was a garden that provided many of the ingredients you use in your kitchen every day; broccoli, cauliflower, pumpkin, green peppers, jalapeños, garlic, thyme, parsley, tomatoes, strawberries, grapes and carrots. There was a lemon tree or two as well but, the garden was consistently expanded as you and your husband learned new ways to be better plant parents.

The point is, you had made yourself a nice little life in the forest.

An odd trip into town occurred every week or so as well as visits to friends and family but overall, life had resigned to the small nook in the forest.

You had never felt more at peace...

“JAGI,TOKKI IS MISSING!!!”

Your husband’s urgent call rips you out of your gratitude as you begin frantically looking towards the direction of his voice.

“What??? Are you sure?! We locked their little home last night didn’t we?”

You’re now questioning every life decision you’ve ever made and whilst you’d like to be absolutely certain you’d never do anything to endanger the lives of your two tiny fluffy children, the fear in your husbands voice is unsettling.

Finally he whips around the corner, his black hair flopping about as he does, eyes wide with panic.

“I can’t find him anywhere- I went to feed them and I can only see Floof!”

“You checked under the patch of bedding in the left corner? He’s always hiding under there...” You insure, your breathing slightly increasing.

He seems to deflate beneath your question and, suddenly a rush of pink comes across his cheeks, “I- well...ok I may have forgot to check underneath the bedding...”

He rushes out the last bit of his words before hastily running to the backyard. Despite your inability to keep up with your freakishly athletic husband, your anxiety is fueling your movements to the point that you aren’t far behind him.

“Excuse me Su, Jezebel! Ge-Get out of my way please!”

You hear him try and reason with the ladies currently blocking his path as he nearly trips over some stray chicken wire.

“Slow down!” You call after him, slightly out of breath as you see Jungkook halt abruptly in front of the baby blue hutch housing the bunnies.

“Hi Floof, sorry to bother you again I’m just gonna-” Jungkook murmurs into the hutch as you finally catch up to him.

Eagerly, you peak over his shoulder, heart wildly thrashing in your chest as you see him lift up the fluffy padding on the bottom of their home.

Sure enough, Tokki is sleeping soundly beneath the padding, his small caramel colored body curled into a little ball, completely unaware of the panic over his disappearance.

“Oh god...babe I’m so sorry, I just freaked out I thought- I thought I let him out because, I was the last one out here last night.”

You can hear the tightening in his voice and it sends a thousands pangs of sadness into your heart.

Kissing your teeth, you pull him into your chest, laughing gently as you pat his back.

“Hey, hey it’s ok sweetheart. He’s right here yeah? You’d never forget to lock them up.”

His hands quickly find the back of your cotton dress, clinging to you tigher than you’d expect before tucking his face into your neck.

With a kiss he mumbles, “ ‘m sorry I scared you, I was trying to finish all the chores since you worked so hard on the garden yesterday.”

“You’re so sweet.” You peck at his cheek, “And wonderful.” Another peck, “And amazing.” Peck. “And cute.” Your kisses move lower so they are focused on his neck, “And I love you.”

With the onslaught of kissing, Jungkook snickers and playfully wiggles away from you as the sensations overwhelm his sensitive skin.

Despite the bit of tears that stain his cheeks, his brilliant smile is out to play as his hands find your waist to pull you against him.

“Soft.” He teases, sniffling slightly but the love in his eyes is unavoidable, “I love you too...”

“You really want to talk about who is soft right now?” You quirk an eyebrow, “You’re still crying...”

At this he laughs, his body shaking as he pulls you in closer to him, the scent of his eucalyptus body wash enticing your senses.

“Shhhh...” He giggles, pecking the shell of your ear playfully, “Our children are safe, let’s just pretend this never happened.”

You giggle and shrink away from his kiss before your body seems to snap back like an elastic band, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“Fair enough. As long as you promise to check the ENTIRE hutch next time.”

He nods, smirking against the side of your head, “Deal.”

As you pull away from him, you feel a pang of regret, wishing desperately that you were able to stay near him for the entire morning.

Or the entire day...

Or the entire year...

But who’s counting?

However, cottages do not tend themselves and while you have the strongest urge to pull your husband into your bedroom, you know that there are chores to finish.

Jungkook’s eyes are on you, like he’s reading the script inside your head and as much as you’d like to convince him (and yourself) that everything in there is PG, you both know it’s not.

Newlyweds are like that right?

All passion, no pause.

Sex, love, touching, laughing, getting drunk off of one another...

It’s a daily occurrence.

The honeymoon phase isn’t supposed to last forever but, you’ve been back from your honeymoon for 4 years now and you swear you want him more than you did when you first met him.

He giggles then, like a school-boy, his eyes alight with mischief.

“Stop staring at me...” He tucks a finger underneath your chin, “Weirdo...”

His soft cherry lips tuck into yours then, slowly unwinding you with his kiss as his fingers delicately cup your face.

Of course you reciprocate, drinking up every bit of his affection that you can, your hands sliding beneath the white t-shirt that hangs loosely off of his body.

Jungkook shudders as he feels your fingers brush over his lower stomach, arousal beginning to bubble up in his gut.

However, you aren’t going to let his snarky comment go unpunished so as you peek an eye open you say, “The hutch is still open...”

With a pop, he pulls away from your kiss with wide eyes to check on the bunnies. Once he’s satisfied with their well-being, he gently shuts the hutch and turns back to you.

“Rude.” He remarks, trying to appear unamused, “I was literally trying to make out with you.”

A laugh leaves your lips, “You can make out with me later...” You lean in to peck the mole beneath his lip, “We have chores to finish.”

“wE hAvE cHorES to FInisH...” He mocks you playfully and snickers as he narrowly avoids your hand as you swat at him, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding you’re right...just c’mere one last time...”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion but because you are completely weak for him, you allow him to tug you against his chest once more.

“I love you Mrs. Jeon...” He vows but this time, you can practically taste the sincerity in his tone as he kisses the side of your head, then your cheek, then your lips, “I’ll see you in a bit ok?”

With nothing but warmth in your chest, you offer him a cheesy smile and give him a proper hug.

“I love you too Mr. Jeon...”

As the two of you part ways he turns around to continue his tasks revealing to you the sculpt of his ass within his black jeans.

And of course, you smack it.

Because, who the hell wouldn’t?

“Don’t forget the chicken coop!”

You yell as he jumps a mile high.

“YAH!” He calls after you, chuckling to himself, his cheeks reddening involuntarily.

The rest of the morning passes easily.

You harvest the various herbs and produce from your garden, clean the bathroom, organize the refrigerator after your grocery delivery and catch up on some of your reading before deciding to make some lunch.

Jungkook had been out all morning as well: tending to the animals, fixing some of the fencing, weeding, repotting some flowers and, mowing the front lawn.

He’s probably feeling the same level of hunger that you are so, you head out to the backyard to ask him what he’s in the mood for.

It takes a minute for you to find him but, when you do...you really regret that you did.

His white t-shirt has been discarded over the fence; the only left adorning his body are the dark wash denim jeans, his black work boots and, sweat.

Before he even notices your presence, he pushes his sweaty mop of hair away from his face, squinting at the ray of sunshine currently in his eyes.

He truly has no idea how attractive he is.

But you certainly do.

And you feel like you’re going to faint.

His wedding band catches the sunlight and it reminds you, once again, that this man is your husband.

Which is a fairytale within itself.

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, wincing slightly before his hand slides down to rub over his stomach (abs), signifying in his own way that he’s hungry.

Which causes you to remember why you came to find him in the first place.

“H-hey babe!’” You call gently, your voice wavering.

Eyes widening a bit, he hones in on the sound of your voice, his face lighting up as he sees you.

“Yah! There she is! Are you all done?”

You smile, adjusting your clothes and wishing that your knees were kissing the soft grass of the garden.

Nodding, you step a little closer to him, trying to avoid full-on eye contact, “Yeah, I just finished up, do you want something to eat? I was gonna make lunch...”

“That depends...” He maneuvers his head to try and catch your attention, his body bending slightly in the process, “Are you on the menu?”

He has the audacity to throw a smirk and an over the top wink your way before immediately cackling as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up...” You shake your head, trying desperately to fight the urge to smile at him but when his face lights up with laughter, you have no other choice.

“Are you????” He insists loudly as he turns to sling his shirt over his shoulder, “I’m starving.”

The way he says the last part of his sentence is less funny as there is clearly some humor disappearing from his tone but, his charming smirk remains on his lips.

As he strolls over to you and, you almost have half a mind to retreat back into the house because, your ability to keep from ogling at him is slowly fading.

“I was going to make something with the broccoli I harvested this morning...” You insist, playfully turning away from him when he tries to lean down and kiss you.

"Kiss meee...” He pleads, pouting his pretty lips, the sweat still very present on his figure, “I’ve been working really hard.”

The way he whines at you is actually kind of hot and, coupled with his slick backed hair and his shirtless torso, it’s getting hard to bring yourself to remember why you originally came looking for your husband.

You oblige, kissing the salt from his lips, indulging in the musky scent emanating from his body.

Jungkook doesn’t like to be dirty but ever since moving to the cottage, he’s fallen in love with working outside and doesn’t focus so heavily on being spotless.

“I came out here to ask you what you wanted to eat and, now you’re flustering me in the middle of our garden all over again.” You accuse, smiling against his lips, “You need to eat something, I didn’t see you take any fruit this morning.”

He rests his forearms atop your shoulders, grinning shamelessly, “If you weren’t so adamant on feeding me, I could be doing more than just flustering you.”

Jungkook really is an anomaly.

Hours earlier, he was crying into your neck over possibly letting out the bunnies and, now he’s using his charm and good looks to reduce you to a pile of lust.

Unfair.

“Did you not get enough last night? I’m pretty sure we were at it til after 1...”

Jungkook raises a brow, his grin never fading, “Did you? You’re the one pressing your thighs together right now.”

“No, I’m not.” You lie but, to be fair, you didn’t even notice you were doing it until he pointed it out.

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m just standing here.”

“Babe, we’ve been together for how long now? I know when you’re in the mood. I don’t know why you can never admit it.”

Because you’re stubborn.

You take one of his hands, leaving one of his forearms over your shoulder as you press a chaste kiss to his knuckles, “I don’t know why you think I’m in a mood. I’m simply asking you what you want for lunch and, its quickly turning into an interrogation.”

It’s impossible to hide the smile on your lips because, he’s completely right.

You are in a mood.

You've been in a mood for hours now.

Jungkook smiles softly, unconvinced, his thumb coming up to brush over your bottom lip, “Ok. Whatever you say. I need to shower really quick; do you need help with lunch?”

Are you disappointed that he didn’t keep at it? Yes.

Are you now left flustered and horny without a solution? Yes.

Do you still get a sense of satisfaction that your husband still tries to pursue even after so many years together? Also yes.

“Nope. I’m good. It should be ready in a half hour or so...” You lean up to press a kiss against his cheek, “Love you.”

A half smile comes over his mouth then, his eyes watching your lips, “Love you too.”

It’s later.

You and Jungkook are sitting on your sofa, nestled under a blanket, eating homemade ice cream sundaes. The fire is crackling beneath the mounted television that is set to one of your favorite films whilst the world slowly goes to sleep outside your windows.

Life is sweet.

Literally.

“Yours looks so pretty jagi, how did you get the whipped cream to do that?”

Jungkook’s lips are pouted, his head tilting to get a better look at the perfect swirl of whipped cream atop your chocolate ice cream.

“I just swirled the can around in a circle.” You giggle, tucking your spoon into the fudgy scoop of ice cream in your bowl.

Jungkook is not satisfied with that answer at all and he looks sadly at the haphazard lines of whipped cream on his ice cream.

“Mine’s ugly...” His pout deepens, pushing his spoon around his bowl.

He’s freshly showered, his hair fluffy and damp, his skin moisturized and smelling like mint and sandalwood and now he’s pouting???

This man does not let you breath.

“It’s not ugly! It’s abstract.” You assure him, kissing the pout off his lips.

He doesn’t move even as you kiss him, his eyes eagerly looking towards the kitchen, “I wanna try again...”

The laugh that leaves your lips is unavoidable as you follow his gaze to the kitchen, “You want to try to top your sundae again?”

He deadpans, “Absolutely. I need to get this right. It doesn’t look like a sundae.”

“You’re just going to eat it babe, it’s fine. We can practice whipped cream swirls tomorrow.”

You’re still laughing a little bit and he’s chuckling too but the determination never leaves his eyes.

“No, nowwww.” He whines before pushing his bowl onto the coffee table and bounding over to the kitchen.

He plops back onto the couch, slightly out of breath with the can of whipped cream in his hands.

“Ok-” He grabs his bowl off the table and hands you the can, “Show me the motion again.”

You shake your head, smirking fondly at him whilst you set your bowl down where his was.

“Like this...”

You point the tip of the can downwards at his bowl and make a circular motion with your hand, glancing up towards him to insure he’s watching you.

“Ok- Ok I think I got it. Here...” He gestures to the can, uncapping it before meticulously following the motions you demonstrated, and just like everything else Jungkook does, it comes out perfectly, “Yahhhhh letsgetiittttttt!!!!”

This has you in a fit of a laughter, your chest filling with joy at the sound of his excitement.

Jungkook shoves his sundae into your view, “Don’t laugh! See? It’s so much better now.”

You wipe the tear that’s forming at the corner of your eye, shaking your head at him, once more, “Yes baby, it’s so much better.”

He starts laughing again too because your joy is infectious and he is weak for your smile.

“Thank you. Your expertise is appreciated.”

With that, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “You’re prettier than this sundae though don’t worry.”

You’re all too eager to cuddle in close with him, admiring the way he looks in his gray sweat suit and admiring the way he makes you feel even more.

“I’m glad you find me more attractive than the sundae Jungkook.”

He just smirks, getting to work on his ice cream and as he pulls the spoon out of his mouth, he shrugs, “I find you more edible too but, you aren’t ready for that conversation.”

Although you know there is an err of immaturity to his jokes, they still affect you.

They make you feel like a giddy teenager, sick from the pure lust and attraction you feel for your crush.

The comment also sends a rush of heat to your cheeks but, you don’t say anything, you merely kiss his chest and cuddle closer to him.

He is satisfied regardless as he enjoys the fact that he can still make you blush, even if its with cheesy jokes.

The rest of dessert passes in comfortable silence.

Jungkook finishes before you and, offers to take the dishes to the sink whilst you straighten up the living room before bed.

As you’re folding the cream throw blanket that rests over the arm of your sofa, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist.

He wastes no time by slowly placing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands slowly up towards your breasts but stopping just beneath the swell of them.

“Is it that time jagiya? Can I make you feel good now?”

His request is nearing a whisper, his lips brushing up towards your ear.

You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder whilst your hands settle over the tops of his.

After resisting him for the past 10 hours, you’ve grown tired of waiting.

“Yeah- it’s that time.” You whisper assuredly and at that, he spins you around, pressing his lips eagerly against yours.

His breath stalls a bit as your hands find his hips, squeezing gently whilst the two of you settle into the kiss.

It’s getting too frantic for Jungkook’s liking as he has specific plans for you but, the way you’re kissing him and touching on him is getting to his headspace and he knows he has to stop you before you start kissing his neck.

Because after that, he’s a goner.

“Come here...come sit on the couch for me.” He whispers into your mouth.

Jungkook has you on the couch seconds later, ridding you of your sleep shirt, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

Instinctually, your arms come around your stomach.

You’re not exactly insecure around your husband but, old habits die hard you know?

Jungkook immediately kisses his teeth, bumping your arms with his hand, “Ah ah...don’t hide from me please, I want to see all of you...” He assures you, as he has a million times but it never gets tiring.

To solidify his sentiment, he spreads your thighs gently and leans over and kisses all along your lower stomach, focusing on the areas he knows you don’t like.

He drags his nose across the band of your panties, looking up at you through his hair, “Did I ever tell you how beautiful I think you are?”

You giggle, brushing a hand through his hair to reveal more of his face to you, “I think you have yeah, once or twice...”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking at the sound of your giggle, “Once or twice? Aish that’s certainly not enough...”

“Maybe more than that...” You mumble, a shivering as he runs his nose along your panties again, one of his hands travelling up towards your breast, “All the time.”

He chuckles lowly, “That’s more like it.” He hums, pressing a kiss above your belly button as his fingers brush over your aching nipple, “It’s still not enough though...that’s why I married you. So I’d be able to tell you every single day.”

Your back arches against his hand whilst he slowly rubs over the sensitive skin, bringing it to a frigid peak.

“I love you.”

It’s all you’re able to whisper at the moment because your arousal is starting to invade your ability to form sentences and he clearly has a plan to continue fucking with that.

“I love you jagiya...” Jungkook smirks, kissing over your stomach again before sinking onto his knees, “Can I tease you for a little bit? I wanna make sure your nice and ready for my tongue. That sundae didn’t fill me up enough...”

With a shaky breath you nod, parting your legs further but to be honest, you can’t imagine being anymore ready than you are right now.

“Close your eyes for me.”

You’re engulfed in darkness then, surrendering yourself to whatever he has planned for you.

“Thank you.” He kisses the top of your pussy, allowing his lips to linger there as he inhales, “Fuck- you smell really good. I know you’re probably ready now but, I really want to make you drip if I can.”

His comment causes you to inhale sharply, your nipples hardening almost uncomfortably as begins tickling his fingers up the length of your inner legs. His hands are so soft, so delicate as they touch you, stopping just outside the seam of your panties before travelling back up to your knees. Over and over again, he tickles your skin and eventually he starts tracing the edges of your panties with his fingers.

“Touch your nipples for me. We’re almost there baby, just a little longer.”

He isn’t controlling you.

He isn’t in charge.

He just knows your body so well.

He knows how to make you feel good.

And fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you feel so so good.

You follow his instructions, bringing your fingers to your nipples and rubbing back and forth over the tops of them, the sensations going straight between your legs as your husband continues his teasing.

He slides his index fingers beneath your panties now, allowing the backs of them to brush against the lips of your pussy ever so gently, ignoring the throbbing knot of nerves that needs it the most.

When he’s done there, he focuses the tickling motion just on the outside of your panties, tickling his fingers up and down.

Over and over and over and over...

It’s getting a little overwhelming and, just when you’re about to say something he gasps in admiration.

“Oh look at that jagiya- you did it. You dripped all over your panties for me...”

He sounds genuinely proud of you and, you react to his praise instantly, your eyes opening to catch the smile on his lips.

The darkness in his eyes is obvious but there is mixture of adoration and deviance in there too.

He’s going to destroy you.

“Good girl...” He tickles his fingers over your panties once more before kissing the top of your kneecap, “Are you ready to get your pussy eaten now?”

Your fingers are still lingering on your nipples, your legs twitching at his touch.

You're completely enamored with him.

His praise is addicting and you never want it to end.

“Please.” You clear your throat, brushing a hand through his hair, “Yes please.”

He smirks, almost darkly as he kisses the side of your wrist, “My sweet girl...”

It’s the last thing he says before he’s slipping off your panties and getting to work.

He starts by kissing down the length of your lips a few times but, he knows that the time for teasing his over.

You feel his tongue between your lips then, searching for your swollen clit before getting to work on it.

As he licks you towards bliss, his hands are wandering all over you, squeezing at your hips, brushing over your breasts, rubbing at your stomach.

He wants you to know how much he loves pleasing you.

He groans at the taste of you, his dick hardening almost painfully, precum staining the seam of his sweat pants.

“I- Jungkook I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, hands tangling in his hair as he focuses all of his attention on your clit, licking at it faster and faster.

“Mhm- I know, you’re twitching all over the place for me. Let me taste it beautiful...”

The pleasure launches itself into your senses then, taking up every square inch inside of your body.

You feel your toes curling against the carpet, the back of the couch damp with your own seat as you press your hips towards Jungkook’s mouth.

When it’s over, he’s kissing you and his eagerness accidentally causes him to bite your lip harder than he intends to.

“Shit sorry- I'm so worked up right now. Eating you out makes me crazy...” He whispers shakily and you actually feel for him.

His erection looks painful beneath the confines of his sweat pants and, you want nothing more than to suck the discomfort away.

“Me too- it's ok.” You assure him, brushing his hair away from his face, “Switch me. It’s your turn.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He’s on the couch, tugging off his sweatshirt, which was sticking to his skin, his hair a mess as he leans back against the couch.

His body is beautiful; tan, toned and covered in little marks that are specific to Jungkook:

Little moles, various old scars and tan lines from working in the sun so much.

He is beautiful, it’s painful.

Chest heaving with excitement, he ushers your mouth to his “Please ride it, I wanna hold you.”

Who are you to refuse him when he asks so politely?

After yanking his sweats off, you’re sitting aside him seconds later, kissing his mouth like your life depended on it.

“Wasn’t our sex life supposed to go stale at this point? What are we doing right?” He jokes, his hands roaming over your back whilst you line him up with your entrance.

“There’s something in the water up here I think.” You giggle and he follows suit, nudging your nose as he tugs you closer to him.

“Oooh good theory.” He smirks and as you sink down on him, he locks eyes with you, allowing you to see his most vulnerable self.

In the midst of pure bliss...

His eyes widen as you engulf him, mouth opening at the sensation before his forehead falls against yours.

“Fuck.”

Bracing your hands behind his head, you start a pace you know will lull him into bliss, all while keeping your eyes on him.

The gaze is so intense between the two of you but with the only sound being labored breathing and your skin slapping together, Jungkook snickers.

“Why does it have to sound like that?” He whispers, burying his face into your neck when you laugh.

“It’s not a cute sound.” You agree, giggling despite sinking feeling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s dick is a work of art and it’s more fulfilling than anything you’ve ever experienced.

It’s going to make you cum again regardless of the unsavory noises filling the living room.

Speaking of cumming, Jungkook seems to be getting further away from humor as you start to bounce faster on him.

“O-oh shit. Okay- fuck keep going jagi. Please keep going- like that...” He moans now, which is something he only reserves to inform you that he’s really close, “Shit. It feels so good.”

To solidify his fate, you usher his face out of your neck to lock eyes with him again.

“Yeah? I want you to feel good. Are you gonna cum inside for me?”

“Yeah...” He nearly chokes when you tighten around him, holding onto your hips for dear life.

“Let me feel it beautiful. Cum for me.”

Using his own words against him was a dirty move but, Jungkook makes no complaints and follows your instruction.

His stomach caves in with the force of his breath as he spills himself inside of you, digging his nails into your hips as he does.

You’re not far behind and with a hand between your legs and your husband whispering encouraging words into your ear, you soon meet the same fate.

The two of you stay wrapped up in one another for quite some time before deciding to clean each other up.

Straightening up the living room was a fruitless endeavor as your clothes end up abandoned on the floor anyway.

You simply can’t be bothered as you usher a very naked, very happy Jungkook to your bedroom.

Beneath the cool cotton sheets, he pulls you against his chest, humming contently.

“I wish I could marry you again- that'd be pretty cool.”

In the darkness, you smile rubbing your face playfully against his skin.

“Mmm no. This time, I’m definitely marrying you.”

He scoffs, “Uh no. You married me last time. I wanna marry you this time.”

“Um? You literally proposed to me last time so no, you married me. This time I get to marry you.”

He snickers, “Oh so are you gonna propose to me this time?”

“Yeah- then I’m gonna marry the heck out of you.”

The lack of light prevents you from seeing how big his smile really is but, you do feel the kiss he places between your eyes, “Fine. I’ll allow it but, only because I love you.”

You unknowingly return his smile, hugging him tightly, “I love you too.”

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bashful-otaku · 4 years

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On Fire - Jasper Hale x OC FanFiction Chapt 2 (trigger warning below)

(Author note: Hey there, so I had some inspiration. So trigger warning is depressive thoughts and hateful comments. Mentions death. I hope this isn’t too dark)

I look at his ringlets that almost match the sun rays, but instead of matching they shine more bright than ever before. His eyes look at me and they look like the amber from the resin of trees. His lips are curled into a smile, one that could save lives.

He holds me, almost cradles me in his lap and he tilts his head at me. I feel the butterflies flutter in my stomach at the look he gives and I blush at the proximity.

“Do you think I like you? Do you really think I would sink that low? You’re just a piece of fun, you’re a joke to me and you should get rid of these pesky feelings for me. Or don’t, yeah actually don’t do that. Because if you do then I loose a piece of my entertainment” he says such harsh words with a happy tone. I feel the tears leek out of my eyes, but I can’t hide my face in my hands because Jasper’s arms are keeping them from me. The butterflies in my stomach start loosing strength in their wings.

“Did you really think I thought of you as a friend? I tolerate you because Bella for some idiotic reason doesn’t see you as the scum that you truly are. You’re nothing to me, you’re nothing to my family. You’re our favourite thing to laugh at. Oh, and Jasper would never want you, not even for a quick root. He wouldn’t dirty himself like that” Edwards words wound me like bullets and I feel the blood begin to gather under me. The butterflies stop flying.

“Don’t worry Edward, I see who she is now. A disgusting oath, but it’s fun to play along as your friend, everyone loves playing the caring game with you too” says Bella, with a look of repulsion on her face. Their wings begin disintegrating.

“Yeah we only hang out with you for the laughs, you’re not worth our friendship” says the normally sweet Angelia with a look of pure hatred and the rest of the group I’ve become to look fondly at all laugh and agree with her. There are giant holes in the wings now.

Everyone I thought I cared about looks at me like I’m trash. The butterflies’ wings fall off.

“You’re the reason we died” says my parents with glass petruding out of their gaping wounds, a steering wheel in one of my mother’s hands. The butterflies die.

Everything goes darker the more that I scream and suddenly the world is thrown out and I’m looking into the brown doe eyes of Bella.

“Shhhh shhhhh shhhh, it’s okay. You’re ok” says Bella as she holds me. I hear a throat clearing cough and look over at Charlie.

“Kid, you ok?” He asks and I smile, a small watery one.

“Why did you guys take me in? I’m nothing” I say in a voice that I barely register as my own.

“We love you Rin, you’re incredible and we are here for you. You’re my other daughter” he says as he crouches down to me and moves my hair from my face.

“And you’re my sister” says Bella with a hum of happiness.

“Thankyou” I say with a more me voice.

“Don’t thank us, we are thankful that you’re here with us. You’re family” he says and picks himself up from the floor.

“I’ve got her Dad, you get some rest” says Bella with her hold tightening. He leaves and she rubs my back delicately.

“I love you Sis” she says and I let out a cry.

“Don’t pretend, you hate me, don’t you? I’m nothing” I let out a strangled cry and try to get out of her caring facade of a hold.

“I could never, so many people love you. No matter what your brain is telling you, it isn’t true. I’m here for you. You were here for me during my depression, let me in. Tell me everything” she says with such genuine care that I feel my heart ache.

“Ok, but this dream and yesterday was a lot. I don’t know if you will even believe me about yesterday” I say with quietness.

“I’m good with weird, trust me” she says with a jokey tone and I open my mouth, to tell her everything.

#fanfiction #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock #shower thoughts #twilight fanfiction #twilight #twilight imagines #jasper ha #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale imagine #jaspee hale x oc #imagine #oc

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Cause Though the Truth May Vary, This Ship Will Carry (Gigi/Nicky) - Campvanjie

AN: Based on the prompt: “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” - “Well, you shouldn’t be saying it then.” A slight AU Gigi/Nicky, little bit of unrequited crushing and a lot of fate, originally posted to my old AO3 account on May 24th, 2020. Edited as well to add non-binary pronouns for Gigi out of drag, as the original used male pronouns. Don’t worry, I’m the original author and only want all of my stories collected under one pen name.

Summary: Nicky and Gigi strike up a friendship online, but just can’t meet until the time’s exactly right.

CW: slight mentions of homophobia.

The sun’s almost setting on an August day when Gigi flicks through the games in their library, bored of sniping enemies from rooftops, set on finding something else that has a competitive mode, kicking underneath the bed to find their headset. It would probably be best to at least try to talk to other people, and maybe even count up all the times people call each other gay without even realizing they’re talking to someone, who’s made sixteen dollars an hour dressing up as a girl and working at the rock climbing wall for all of high school.

There’s gay, and then there’s Gigi Goode; with a closet hanging full of custom couture, not that they’d ever admit to their mom that her work isn’t the worst.

There’s only one player in the team’s group chat, as Gigi adjusts their headset so they can talk into the mic.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Hi!”, laughs the voice in his headphones; crackling as Gigi shoots and blows apart a box in the game’s lobby. There’s an accent there he can’t quite place, not that it matters so much, since the guy on the other end easily guides him through the map and even cracks a couple of jokes as one of the other team’s players is booted off a cliff. Maybe he’s Spanish, or Russian, since there are lot of Russian people on the server at this time of almost- night.

They queue for another round, his player’s character stopping next to a poster of one of the girls in the game.

“I like her, do you?”, he asks, and Gigi cringes a little. Straight guys were fucking exhausting, but this was just embarrassing-

“Like, this coat, with the belt like this, makes her waist look like she is a wasp. The insect, not the white people.”, he keeps talking, and Gigi’s eyes widen a little.

“Yeah, I’d buy those boots.”, they joke, hoping that whoever it is, will take it in stride, and he won’t have to listen to someone who’d been cool for the past half an hour, suddenly start losing their mind over how gay that was to say out loud.

“The boots? I want this hair- I want just Mortal Kombat hair but like this color, and maybe instead of a gun I want the scepter, like Sailor Jupiter. You’ve seen that, yes?”

Gigi blinks a couple of times. He’s serious?

“Like, of course. Yeah.”

“She’s a Mugler bitch. Hm, aren’t you?”, the voice teases on the other end; kicking at one of the boxes in the game.

Gigi is silent, as their queue timer runs out, and their team join another game which is already active when they’re dropped in.

“It’s the Hermes winter collection.”

“What?”

“That jacket is a dupe from the Hermes winter collection. You said Mugler-”, Gigi repeats, blasting through a wall in the game.

“Oh- oh you’re saying- this past winter! Of course! Maybe someone on the design team is also a fan?”

“Maybe.”

The two of them finish the round, and Gigi eagerly hits yes; when a little box pops up to add TheNickyDoll to their friends list.

(Gigi adds him back on Discord, too- because they’re probably not taking the Xbox to college, and then, they can send pictures right away.

He’s not a serial killer, and he’s cute.

Gigi can’t help but wonder if Nicky thinks the same of them.)

They slowly knit together in between Gigi’s first semester, and when Nicky moves into a new apartment in the eleventh arrondissement in Paris, and pops a bottle of champagne against his camera on his phone, propped up in his new kitchen. He plays with the zipper on his hoodie, and Gigi still can’t help but be surprised with how simple his wardrobe is.

Gigi spends hours carefully curating their wardrobe, though they supposed in Europe, there were just better pickings.

“Don’t you have friends?”, Gigi jokes, shirtless against the white brick walls of their dorm.

“Everyone will be over later, but I just wanted to do a toast for your timezone. It will be like three am for you when everyone else gets off work.”

“So this is a private party? Well… okay let me get my card.”

“Seriously? Not that kind of party!”

“Didn’t say it was. Congratulations, by the way. I got you something! Well like, I found it, and it’s so you-“

Gigi flicks the camera to face forwards, swinging to a painting hanging in the closet.

“Aw, well you didn’t have to- what the fuck is that?”

“Putin! I painted him in like the eighth grade. My mom was dropping off some stuff last weekend and I can mail him-“

Nicky’s eyebrows shoot up, pots and pans clattering on the other end of the line.

“Bitch, I am trying to not be the victim of a hate crime.”

Gigi laughs a little bit, flipping the camera back to focus on their face.

“I never asked, what do you even do?”

“What?”

“Like you- you have a job right? What’s your job?”

“Ah, I’m working, well I worked at a makeup store, but now I have some contracts, and maybe, you know- this neighborhood is where all the bars and the clubs are. If there’s no work on the runways maybe some will be looking for new girls.”

Gigi’s cheeks run hot for a moment.

“Wait, you- you’re a girl?”, they ask weakly, hoping it won’t absolutely ruin their entire… whatever it is, when you’d rather have a private housewarming alone in bed, than pretend to enjoy the beers that are flowing through the rest of the hall downstairs.

“Only when I’m being paid. Do you know- well, you have to in America you have RuPaul’s show- it’s like that-“

“You do drag? Wait, really?”

“Shhhh.”, he stops them, pressing a finger between his lips. “It’s like, I haven’t got any bookings yet but some of the clubs are interested- some of the parties, too. I can be a bottle girl.”

Gigi simply blinks repeatedly in the screen.

“What- is that too gay? I thought we were both pretty gay.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Hey-“, Gigi keeps the camera on their face, their eyes flicking up towards the naked mannequin resting against the closet door. Most of Gigi’s things were still at home, but there was a black feathered swimsuit they’d been working on- if they took out the waist just a bit-

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Wow, we are getting deep in, Dr Phil.”

“Seriously, what is it?”

“I’m feeling pink recently. Usually just- something simple. Blue. Black. It’s soothing.”

“Black is not a color.”

“Then it’s my favorite not-color.” Nicky pours from the bottle into a flute on her counter. “Get something to drink, come on.”

“Uh-“

“Doesn’t matter what. Come on!”

Gigi reaches for Red Bull, yesterday’s alcohol mixed into it, tangy and stale in the metal can.

“Okay.”

“Pace a Salute!”, Nicky cheers, and they clink their drinks against the camera.

Two months later, there’s a wrapped package on his stoop, covered in foreign postage, wet at the edges like it’s been through- what Americans would call the ringer, the labels so scratched over he can barely make out the return address, when he cuts the cardboard open on his kitchen counter.

If this was that stupid Putin painting, he was deleting Gigi from his entire life-

Inside, is fabric folded in paper, a little cloth ribbon tied around where a card is tucked in.

“I dont know what your actual skin tone is because you need better lights but merry Christmas if it doesn’t fit or doesn’t match sell it on eBay and get better lights”,

Gigi has written, in neat, large letters.

Nicky carefully unfurls the rest of it, and there’s a blue and pink bodysuit inside, accented with green and yellow panels that glitter like the facets of a diamond, and a yellow jacket, the bottom cut off just below the ribs, hemmed in thick stitches so the fabric won’t roll up.

Had Gigi gone and had this made? Or was it off the rack?, he wondered, digging for price tags and labels in the fabric.

Nothing.

Shit.

He fires off a message to Gigi, who is still showing as offline, given it’s probably six in the morning where he is.

14:17

How much is this “gift” you got me? Wtf…

FaceTime me later.

There’s predictably no response, and that night; he paints carefully in the mirror in his bedroom, laying out the little black dress he had chosen for the performance on his bed.

At the very last minute though, it’s that little suit from Gigi that wins out, nude panels sliding over his tights as he shimmies in front of the mirror.

It’s not perfect, but it all looks very nice.

When later comes, Gigi is wearing a red wig with blonde streaks that she runs her long fingers through, winking at the camera.

“My mom’s actually a professional seamstress. It didn’t cost anything, babe.”, she says with a little shrug, a tight yellow dress barely moving around his shoulders. There’s always a party here; and Gigi can’t imagine hating it more, the little college town bigger than he was used to, and yet still- too small for what she really wanted.

“If you want other stuff, I’ll send it. There’s lots of stuff that I don’t really wear anymore and we kind of have the same style. It’s not like anyone can say anything, then they’d have to admit they’ve seen me out in public. Or I could even make you something, I’m bored all the time.”

“Why are you doing this?”, Nicky asks.

“I dunno. It’s not like you’re my competition. You’re my friend.”

19:41

Anyway, I’m dropping out of school, getting a nose job and moving out to LA.

Gigi types out on their phone, underneath the table at their family’s annual thanksgiving dinner.

19:41

Maybe not all at once.

Nicky’s reply comes lightning fast- making Gigi grin.

“Are you seriously getting nudes right now?”, one of their brothers asks, and their mother glares at the both of them over the table.

“I’m getting some new sketches from my atlier in Paris.”, they seethe, glancing back down at the floor. Nicky’s been trying to teach him French, like it’s something that occupies them so that Gigi doesn’t implode; in between sending him links to his favorite shows to watch, and YouTube links to makeup tutorials.

(He still hasn’t figured out if Nicky means it; or if he’s trying to be shady, and just doesn’t know how.)

“Atlier is where you get the clothes made, dumbass. Mom’s sewing room isn’t Paris.”

“Shut up!”

“All of you just stop-”

19:43

It’s a hard time in life in general.

Try not to listen so much to those voices in your head.

Nicky’s text pops up with a loud, mechanical pinging noise, three dots still hovering under the message as Gigi forces looks up from the screen and glowers across the table as they reach for more baby carrots.

19:43

Make mistakes, but not too many, haha. You’ll figure it out.

If it makes you feel a little bit better, I’m moving to San Fran

19:43

What? For real?

Gigi’s nails frantically tap over the screen.

19:45

Yes! I bought a ticket.

And my husband called an immigration lawyer, we’re going to get my green card situation set.

“Lawyer-”, Gigi gasps; and their entire family pauses, glancing over the table at them.

“Jesus Christ. You did it, didn’t you? You got arrested your first semester, and you weren’t even gonna tell us-”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”, they snap, flipping the bird at their oldest brother.

“Well, you shouldn’t be saying it then.”

Their whole table erupts in a discussion Gigi can’t pay any attention to.

19:50

Cool.

That means I get to see you soon.

It’s gonna be great.

They taps ou, and close the app with a smile.

They hadn’t known if Nicky even had a boyfriend, not that it mattered; until it did.

Apparently; he had been married, for almost the whole time they had known each other- a blow Gigi hadn’t quite expected, to leave them as breathless as landing in Los Angeles; the shock not setting in, not in full, anyway- until they are standing in a new apartment, looking down at a menu of instructions on how to set up the wifi in the unit, fingers hovering over everyone in contacts.

They can’t call their mom; not this soon, and their brothers would tell her, and the whole plan would crumble; just like everything had with Nicky; whose calls Gigi had declined for the past solid month; the nights they had spent with their phones propped up behind desks and dressing room mirrors fading into something beyond memory; that they refused to think about any more than they had to, the messages asking if they’re alright answered in curt, short replies.

How could they have been so stupid, thinking that they were talking-talking, teasing that Nicky and they were friends; when Gigi didn’t even know what his real name was.

(Unless it was Nicky?)

Shit.

Gigi waits for their phone to load into the app, and refreshes the friends list a couple of times, until they can see Nicky’s icon at the top, the side of the circle cut through with a little green dot, and taps twice to start a call.

“Hi?”

Nicky’s greeting floats in the air, between a breath and utter silence before Gigi swallows their pride, pressing the phone to the side of their face.

“What do you know about connecting a router to a tower if I live on the…um third floor?”

The line crackles, but soon there’s a tiny, familiar chuckle. “First of all, that is not how you do any of that-”

They talk a little more, every day; in between, Nicky moves to New York and Gigi cuts a tape that they put in the mail with a wink. They’re due for a visit home soon, and carefully proposes- maybe it’s time they meet Nicky. New York isn’t far at all, and a layover would make for a cheaper flight, anyway.

Their plans stack up in hours of calls; and Gigi think they’re almost back to normal. Until, three days before the flight is supposed to leave, there’s a call they had forgotten to wait for, and their fingers hover over the message box below Nicky’s name, vibrating with anxiety and excitement all at once.

09:22

Hey. I had a family thing come up.

Gigi types, and then erases the text, steeling themselves as they taps out another one that makes a little more sense, and doesn’t seem like such a lie.

09:30

I’m so so so so sorry about this

I had some things come up and my trip fell through.

They send this instead, surprised to see Nicky start typing back immediately.

09:35

You’re not going to believe this

I have some work things that started recently and so it would have been really shitty to have a guest over now.

09:35

No way!

09:37

Yeah. :(( But we’re gonna hang out someday, I swear!

09:37

Dont worry! You’re definitely gonna see me.

Real real real soon!

“-Where do I go?”, Gigi asks, pulling at the bottom hem of the ornate jacket she wore, fiddling with the gold telescope in her hands. The lights behind the set burned brightly, making the thicker bottoms of the outfit feel much warmer than he had remembered them being.

“Go to that green square on the ground, and wait there, when you see the little arrow light up, you can enter the Werk Room and then we’ll have you stop inside, get your opening line, and let you see the other girls.”

“Okay.”

He does as he’s told, prancing in and kicking his boots in front of him as the lights move to capture Gigi’s entrance, his head only snapping to the side when given the signal, so he can see the others who are already crowded around the pink tables he’s only dreamed of seeing for so long.

“Holy Shit…Nicky?!”

In reality; Gigi can see far more of the detail of Nicky’s face; of her eyebrows and carefully painted cheeks and lashes, of all the effort that they had only really talked about, his eternal summer tan and the long fringe of black hair that he’s always nudging across his forehead, or slicked against a beanie, gone behind a platinum blonde veneer that’s so much brighter than Gigi has ever seen. She’s thinner, and taller, careful breaths underneath sequinned shoulder pads, knees knocking together as she gasps.

“Gigi!”

Widow and Crystal glance at each other over the pink table.

“Hold up, you guys know each other?”

In the flesh; Gigi is impossibly small, the sharp angles of her face, and the dark brown hair that sticks up in angles which Nicky traces against the white of his pillows in his bedroom on the screen of his phone in the morning, taped underneath a gold-tipped pirate hat, and lush, wavy curls. She looks like a model on the runways where Nicky used to work; so close to him that he can feel Gigi’s breath on the back of his hand, as he tightens his grip around the epaulets on her shoulder.

“Gigi Goode.”, she repeats, and Gigi giggles a little at that.

“The Nicky Doll.”, she laughs, and her voice sounds so much more solid, than it ever has over every crossed wire.

Gigi’s hand swings, squeezing Nicky’s tightly as they swing around the table; like the others who are there don’t matter at all. She rests her head on Nicky’s padded shoulder, cocking it just slightly, waiting there, as Crystal’s eyes flash at the scene before them.

“…and may the best woman win.”, Gigi whispers, only for Nicky to hear.

#rpdr fanfiction #nicky doll #gigi goode #gigi x nicky #pre-ship #fluff #online friends au #s12 #on set fic #queen au #campvanjie #concrit welcome

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maybe-eevee · 8 years

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#shhhh #pretend i posted this yesterday ahaha #to all the ladies your achievements are great

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hispeculiartreasure · 5 years

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All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Four | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen

Word count: 3,371

Chapter 4/24

Warnings: Very brief, yet strong language

AN: Let me just say that I am profoundly grateful for the love this series is getting! I am enjoying your comments and theories and am so flattered by your praise. I didn’t get a chance to respond to every comment like I usually do - my car accident took care of that. I’ve had a hard time focusing and coping after that traumatic day so I hope everything in this chapter is in order. Love you all so dearly. Come scream at me when you’re done. 💖

Chapter Three

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

Exiting the elevator the next morning you fumble through your handbag, trying to find the lipstick you didn’t have time to put on before you left.

Of all mornings for the subway to not be working it had to be today. I’m so late, I’m gonna have to bust my tail before Anderson notices.

“Good morning, Mrs. Flannery,” you say absentmindedly as you approach her desk.

“You’re late. I have-”

“I know, it’s been a hell of a-- excuse me, it’s been a heck of a morning,” you interrupt, head still down, lipstick nowhere to be found.

“Miss-”

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” You rush past her as your mental to-do list only grows longer.

“Ahem.”

There was no denying that was aimed toward you. You come to a halt, slowly turning back to the daunting woman. Peering over her glasses, one hand perched on her hip while the other was stretched out to you, grasping a piece of paper.

“This was left for you yesterday afternoon after you had completed your shift.” You timidly reach for the slip, when Flannery pulls it back at the last moment. “I feel the need to remind you that this is a place of business. Not romance, not courtship, not frivolity. I meant what I said on your first day - beaus are not allowed in this office. This is the only time I will extend grace. Understood?”

Mystified you take the paper, nodding your understanding.

What the hell is she talking about?

Suzy sidles beside you on the walk to your desk before she whisper-shouts, “The note was for her!”

Immediately, six other women leap from their desks and huddle around you talking a mile a minute.

“We were here when he dropped it off!”

“He was so cute!”

“Why do I feel like I’ve seen him in the movies?”

“Maybe he’s a war-hero?”

“He looked familiar,” Connie muses.

“Who cares! What does it say?” Suzy urges as she pokes your arm.

The huddle falls silent as you open the neatly folded note.

The gaggle of girls around you squeal for a moment before Flannery’s harsh shhhh quiets everyone to whispers.

“How sweet.”

“He’s one of the window washers?!”

“Wait, we have window washers here?”

“I still feel like I know him from somewhere else. . .”

“Well, how do you feel?” Suzy draws the focus back to you.

You bite your lip. “Umm. . . it makes me feel. . . pretty great.”

“Jeeze, for you that may as well be equal to jumping up and down!” One nudges you gently with her elbow. “What are you gonna do?”

“Do? I- I’m not going to do anything. I got a nice note and I appreciate it,” you state, hoping it would bring an end to all the attention surrounding you. It didn’t.

“Oh come on!”

“Have you been flirting? You need to be more tantalizing!”

“You have to find him right now!”

“Show us your moves, we can help!”

Waving your arms for quiet you declare, “I’m already late and if I don’t get to work, I’ll be canned before I get the chance to see him again. Is that what you want?”

Everyone begrudgingly trudges across the office while Suzy lags behind. With a knowing grin she says, “Lemme know if you wanna talk about it. It’s nice to see you smile like that.”

As she leaves you plop down into your desk chair, rereading the note. It’s then that you realize just how much you’ve been smiling the last few minutes and just how fast your heart was beating.

Yeah, I could tell you enjoyed the new look. Why am I blushing all over again?

He came up here to try to talk to me. To actually see me. In person. He faced the wrath of Flannery to get up here and leave this.

He can’t wait to see me? Does he look forward to seeing me as much as I look forward to seeing him? Of course he couldn’t be bothered to sign his actual name. What a tease.

It takes a shout from Anderson’s office to bring you back to reality. Propping the note against your typewriter you read it one more time before grabbing your pencil and notepad.

For the rest of the day you anxiously check the window every few minutes, waiting for the author of your note. Every moment you feel self-conscious, not sure what you should do when he stops on your floor. Is he expecting more to come from this? Do you need to be a little more flirtatious, like some of the girls had mentioned? Should you be making more of an effort? Is that something you even wanted?

But then you see him and the uncertainty fades away. The work day is almost over before he descends to the sixth floor. You make eye contact, check your watch, and tap its face twice. You’re late.

He nods while wiping his brow. His head lolls to the side, eyes closed, tongue sticking out in a comical manner. Slept in.

Shaking your head and tutting softly, you raise an eyebrow.

Both his hands shoot up in a I know, I know. Won’t happen again.

With a short nod, you go back to filing and leave Window Washer to his work.

By the time you turn around, you expect him to be gone. To your pleasant surprise, he seems to be waiting for you. He beckons you to the window. When you get close enough, you notice something written in the suds at the very bottom of the pane. The word doesn’t make sense to you, so you scrunch your eyebrows at him.

He taps himself on the chest several times and mouths “my name”. You look again and it finally clicks. B-U-C-K-Y. You nod your understanding and smile. It isn’t until he points at you that you realize he’s waiting for your name. You press your finger to the glass, waiting for him to mirror your touch. You trace your name on your side, allowing him to spell it on his side. He reads it and grins wide. Nice to meet ya, he mouths.

“Mary! Get in here, take notes.” You turn from the voice, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Hooking a thumb toward your boss’ office, you sigh deeply. Gotta go.

Bucky held two fingers to his brow and gave you a half-hearted salute. Good luck in there.

------

You are dutifully typing a letter when a pair of shiny Oxford heels appear in your peripheral vision next to your desk. “You need to go ask that boy on a date.”

Heaving a sigh, you keep your eyes on the task in front of you. “Didn’t we have this discussion yesterday, Suze?”

“Yeah, and you still haven’t wised-up.” Papers rustle on your desk as Suzy props a hip against it.

“On the contrary, I think I’m exercising a lot of wisdom.”

She scoffs, finally drawing your attention away from your paperwork.

“Someone’s a scaredy cat.”

“Suzy.” You fix her with a pointed look.

Pretending to have a sudden interest in her cuticles she mutters, “It’s the only possible explanation.”

“How do we know that note was an invitation? What if he was just saying hi? What if he-”

“Mhmm. Those are the thoughts of someone who is unafraid.”

“How do we even know if he’d want to go on a date with me?” You lean back in your chair, tired of this conversation.

The redhead’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “I’m sorry - ‘You looked beautiful’? ‘Can’t wait to see you’? Sorry, doll, but people don’t say that to just anyone. I adore you, but I can definitely wait to see you if it means coming in to work.” She dodges the playful kick you aim in her direction. “All I’m saying is that you weren’t here when he left that note - I was. He was all kinds of antsy and blushing.”

“He works outside, maybe he had a sunburn,” you deadpan.

“You were just talking about how you barely know anyone in the city and you need to meet new people. He’s new people!”

“But I don’t even know if I want a romantic relationship right now.” “Then you’ll tell him that after your first date if you still feel that way. But why shut it down now when it doesn’t even exist yet? Maybe he’s lonely too-” Suzy’s eyes dart behind you and her posture changes. She leans in toward you, feigning interest in the letter you’d abandoned. “Oh yes, those are the addresses I was looking for. Don’t know how they got on your desk. And you needed something from me right?”

You sit stunned by this sudden change of behavior until you see Flannery approaching your desk.

“Uhh-yes. I was wondering what the protocol would be for when. . .” you both watch as the office manager floats into the filing room and shuts the door behind her. You and Suzy relax back into your previous positions. “I never said lonely,” you point out, shoving your defensive instincts down.

Suzy rolls her eyes and with a wave of her manicured hand says “Fine, fine, you’re being adventurous. Does that make you feel better?”

“No.”

“Answer me one last question, Newbie, and I’ll leave you alone.” Raising a brow, you wait for the question. “What’ve you got to lose?”

You weren’t able to answer then, and you still don’t have an answer now.

Under Suzy’s watchful eye, the second your watch reads 12 o’clock you leave your desk and hustle down the stairs, hoping the physical activity would work out some of the anxiety in your chest. It doesn’t.

Turning the corner toward the service entrance you see the window washers gathered outside in a loose group, taking their lunch break. Your heart begins to beat faster when you imagine actually holding a conversation with Bucky. What in the world were you going to say to him?

I really should’ve thought this through a little more.

But then your feet were taking you toward the group and it was too late to turn back now. The clicking of your shoes on pavement draws the attention of each man whose heads simultaneously swing to watch you. You stop a few feet away from them, losing your words.

“Can we help you, miss?” The apparent leader of the window washing crew steps forward. He’s much younger than Bucky, scrawny and tan. He’d be lucky to be 18.

“Um. . .” you scan the faces, not finding the one you’re looking for. “Is Bucky around?”

The leader’s eyes narrow, giving you a too-thorough once-over. “Whaddya want with him? If it has to do with windows, I’m in charge here. Name’s Harrison. Maybe I can help you out.”

You control the urge to fidget under his scrutiny, steeling yourself to squarely match his gaze. “No, there’s something else I need to discuss with him.”

“He had to skip out early today. Something about a family emergency.”

“Oh. I see.” You think for a moment, not enjoying the pack of men watching you like vultures. “Would you let him know I stopped by?” You turn on your heel when Harrison speaks again.

“What’s your name, baby-doll?”

Shutting your eyes you remind yourself to watch your temper. Thinking better of giving your name, you spare a glance over your shoulder. Coldly you reply, “Tell him ‘Sixth Floor’. He’ll know.”

More questions are shouted at you but you keep walking, very familiar with the rakish tone in which they were spoken. You didn’t have time for drooling boys. For a moment you worry that Bucky is cut from the same cloth as them. But something deep in you urges that he’s different.

Unbeknownst to you, when Bucky arrives at work the next day Harrison actually does mention your visit.

“Barnes, some broad came lookin’ for ya at lunchtime yesterday.”

Bucky doesn’t spare a look from his kit he was preparing for the day. “Yeah? What for?”

“She wouldn’t tell us. Seemed kinda stuck-up and snooty. Like she was better than us or something.”

Hitching his kit over his shoulder to head to the roof, Bucky smooths back a stray strand of hair. “I hate to break it to ya, but if she was acting like that I’m sure you deserved it.” As the kid who was technically his supervisor opens his mouth to protest Bucky interjects, “Did she say anything else?”

Unamused, Harrison practically pouts. “She just said ‘sixth floor’ and said you’d get it. Then she left.”

Bucky stills immediately at the mention of you. “Really? She said that?”

“Yup. Was a bombshell too, real date-bait if you catch my drift.”

Eyes closing, Bucky imagines strangling the teenager in front of him rather than actually carrying out the action. “Shut your trap.”

“Wish she’d stop by again, wouldn’t mind an evening of necking with her.” He conspiratorially winks, mistakenly thinking he would go along with the sentiment.

Squaring up with Harrison, Bucky leans in dangerously close and says lowly, “You’d better watch that mouth, kid.”

“What’s the big deal? She’s not your girl or anything is she?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky insists, eyes practically boring through the terrified kid in front of him. “She’s not yours, so don’t be a creep. Girls don’t like creeps, if you haven’t caught onto that yet. And I don’t either.” He leans back, smirking with satisfaction at the deer-in-the-headlights look he was getting. Resting his brush on his shoulder Bucky turns to begin his day.

“Keep your paws off me, Barnes!” Harrison shouts to Bucky’s back.

“I didn’t touch you, Harrison. Maybe you would’ve noticed if you weren’t always on skirt patrol,” Bucky tosses over his shoulder as he begins to climb the fire escape.

As Bucky climbs higher his thoughts turn to you. You’d been looking for him. You’d obviously shut down Harrison and the rest of the boys. Anyone that sassed that kid was a hero in his book.

Maybe his note hadn’t been a total disaster after all. Once he’d gotten into bed that night, he fretted over that dumb piece of paper for hours. He thought of a million things he could’ve said besides the three hastily scribbled lines. A million kinder, wittier, more fitting words for you. You’d been nice enough the next day, playful even. And he’d finally gotten your name - a sweet, suitable name that rolled around in his head for hours. But he couldn’t help feeling like he needed to do more.

He found himself even more excited to get to the sixth floor today, to see you, to have a little hope, to share in a smile. Though that’s not exactly what happens.

------

“Get in here, NOW!”

Anderson’s tone instantly drowns your insides with dread.

You rush to his door, quietly opening it. Anderson’s heels are crossed, kicked up to rest on the edge of his desk. His eyes bore into you, disdain obvious.

“Sir?” you make out much smoother than you feel.

“Do you know what this is?” he flicks a letter across his desk toward you. Quietly picking it up, you silently read its contents.

“The steel mill is turning down our partnership offer? Because they never received paperwork? Sir, I definitely-”

“Read the letterhead,” he bites out. “And then read what you sent out. What do you notice, Doris?” Another letter is flicked in your direction. You bite back a retort about your name.

Holding the letters side-by-side, a pit drops in your stomach. “I copied the address incorrectly.”

Anderson gives you a tight nod, jaw clenched. The room is claustrophobic in silence.

“Sir, I-”

“You cost us thousands of dollars with this idiotic move, because you didn’t proofread your work enough? Because you can’t copy a damn number over?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how I missed-”

“You missed it because you were careless!” Anderson bangs a fist to his desk, causing you to jump a fraction. He stands up abruptly, stalking over to you. “This job isn’t a fucking joke. You were given a chance because you kicked up a fuss about being let go when our boys came back from war. You want this job? Act like it!” With every word Anderson steps in your direction causing you to match with a step backward. You are in his office’s threshold when he leans in and whispers menacingly, “If you can’t get a damn letter right then you shouldn’t even be here in the first place, Marge. Make sure it doesn’t happen again or you’re gone. Now get out of my office and fix your screw-up!” The door slams in your face.

Hands shaking, you make your way to your desk. Willing the tears not to fall you take a few deep breaths. Elbows rest on the surface, head in your hands, focusing on not falling apart in the middle of the busy office.

You’re tougher than this. A man raising his voice at you is nothing new. You are fine, you made a mistake. Don’t you dare lose your composure, it’ll only make you seem weak.

A tapping on the window directly next to your desk startles you. Bucky is there, looking more concerned than ever. He tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed together. What’s wrong?

The tears spill out at the kindness reflected in his own. You search desperately for a handkerchief before turning back to the window. Dabbing at your wet cheeks furiously, you gesture to Anderson’s office. You blink against the hankie, hoping to catch the makeup before it runs down your entire face. Pointing to yourself you mouth “my fault”. The tears don’t stop for several minutes, but everytime you look up Bucky is sitting at the window, watching you sorrowfully.

Eventually you dry up, puffy eyes meeting Bucky’s. “I’m fine,” you whisper, dropping your gaze to the handkerchief in your lap that you’ve been twisting into knots.

More tapping draws your attention back to Bucky, who promptly flips off Anderson’s closed door. You manage to stutter a laugh out in between your sniffles, feeling a little lighter already.

With an admonishing shake of your head that you don’t mean, you return his smile. Thanks.

You could be imagining it, but Bucky seems hesitant to move on to the next floor. Giving him what you hope is a reassuring thumbs-up you mouth, “I’m okay.”

Looking thoroughly unconvinced he watches you for a few seconds before nodding slowly. He drops out of your sight, though you still stare out the window where he had been.

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

One day passes where you don’t see Bucky at all.

Two days pass. No Bucky.

Three days pass. Zero handsome window washers.

When the end of your day comes and it hits you that he hasn’t made his usual stop you try to ignore the disappointment that prickles your heart.

It takes a while before it dawns on you that since you had started your job Bucky had washed every single window on this side of the building. Which meant he would move onto another side or possibly an entirely different building.

On your walk into work Friday morning, you notice that the window washing crew’s tools are absent from the sidewalk. An unfamiliar emotion has you biting your lip as you approach your desk.

I guess that’s that. We kept missing each other and time just. . .ran out. It’s not a big deal. . . If it’s not a big deal then why am I so sad?

Turning your gaze to the window immediately to your left, you notice a piece of paper in the middle of the pane. You stare for a moment, fairly certain that it hadn’t been there when you left work last night. With a purposeful step you go to the window, a sneaking suspicion in the back of your mind. You find a note written in a familiar hand taped to the outside of the window, the writing facing you so you could read it clear as day.

Chapter Five

Tags:

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#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Reader Insert #Bucky x Reader #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #All We've Got is Time #Chapter Four #beka writes

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captain-kingliamsqueen · 6 years

Text

The Morning After - Liam x MC

Continuation of “Ladies and Gentlemen The King Has Left The Building!” <---- you may want to have a ready of this before reading “the morning after”

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Summary: … Its the morning after and riley decides to take advantage of the fact that Liam couldn’t remember the events from the night before...

Word Count: 2,483

Tagged : @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @drakelover78 @queencatherynerhys @devineinterventions2 @jayjay879 @kawairinrin @hopefulmoonobject @flyawayboo @gardeningourmet @blackcatkita @syltti78 @theroyalweisme @hhiggs @mfackenthal @bruteforcebears @pens-girl-87 @barbaravalentino @umccall71 @darley1101 @crookedslimecreatorpasta @jamjar84 @starstruckpixelberryhistoryvoid @speedyoperarascalparty @katurrade @scarlettedragon @zeniamiii @annekebbphotography @liam-rhys @xxrainbowprincessxx @perfectprofessorherokid @mynameiskaylabella @marywrites-things @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @innerpostmentality @alepowell @missevabean @romanticatheart-posts @smalltalk88 @sarwin85 @lodberg

ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE! (USED THE TAGS FROM MY “ALWAYS” SERIES LET ME KNOW IF ANYONE WANTS UNTAGGED!!!)

I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance!

The next morning Riley woke up to a weight lying ontop of her. She moaned and grumbled as she tried to move, but she couldn’t. “what the-” she mumbled as her eyes flickered open to see her husband lying ontop of her snoring away, both of them still fully dressed.

“Liam” she whispered trying to wake him without startling him “Liam!” she said louder causing him to groan and move slightly “Liam!” she raised her voice loud enough to wake up but not too loud to alert the guards outside.

“shhhhh Riley im sleeping” he groaned “get off’a me!” she chastised as she gently pushed him over, so he would move. He rolled over a little too far causing him to roll off the side of the bed, hitting the floor with a thud

“ouch! Riley!!” he groaned

“don’t you ouch Riley me!” she mumbled “I can’t feel half my body because you, Mr I’m going to drink a shit ton of alcohol and embarrass myself, fell asleep ontop of your wife after you got her all hot and bothered!”

“shhhh don’t shout” Liam mumbled quietly. Riley moved over to the side of the bed wondering why he hadn’t gotten back up yet, as she looked over she cursed under her breathe. There he lay falling back asleep. “LIAM!” she bellowed startling him awake!

“shhhh!!!!!” he grimaced as he covered his ears. “you’re so mean to me”

“that’s what you get for leaving me high and dry mister!”

“what?” he asked confused as he slowly sat himself up, leaning on the bed with his head leaning down on his arms “I don’t remember anything Riley, what happened?”

“what’s the last thing you remember?”

“um our conversation outside, just before we came back into the palace.”

“why are we still dressed? Didn’t we…y’know…?”

“no…no we did not “y’know”! I thought we were going to…the whole damn palace thought we were going to!”

“what?” he lifted his head

“oh yeah…you announced it to the whole damn party that I was trying to get into your pants and that you were going to bring me back to our room and…ohh let me see…what was it you called it?” she replied sarcastically “hmmm…oh yes that’s it…we were gonna play hide the sausage…and you were going to be parking the beef bus…in tuna town!” she yelled in a whisper. She watched as Liam's face reddened from embarrassment.

“i told the whole court?” he whispered in shock

“everyone that was still there!”

“oh my- how am I supposed to face them now!” he sighed

“oh…never mind the people of court…the poor waiter! You booped him!”

“I booped him?”

“right on his damn nose! THEN LAUGHED! REPEATEDLY!” she tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help it “poor damn waiter…his face was a picture though”

“Riley this isn’t funny…I’m a king for goodness sake!”

“yeah, a king who’s still sitting in his clothes from the party last night, sitting on the floor after falling off the bed, with a splitting headache!” she laughed

“riley…this isn’t funny” he smirked

“oh, my poor Liam…you think that’s bad you don’t know the worst of it!” riley laughed, she wanted to really get him back for leaving her high and dry, so she decided to mess with him a little bit.

“what?” he asked her seriously

“yeah…I’m not sure if I should tell you”

“Riley you gotta tell me…”

“are you sure you wanna know?”

“yes Riley! Yes, I want to know!”

“alright…well…you should probably avoid Bastian as much as you can”

“why? What did I do?” Liam answered seriously

“let’s just say your highness that you decided to play a little tonsil tennis last night and it wasn’t with me!” she was dying to laugh as she watched Liam's face go pale.

“what?” he gulped

“yeah…”

“how the hell am I supposed to avoid Bastian! Hes my damn security!! He follows me everywhere!”

“I don’t know maybe you should have thought of that before you went to first base with him” she chuckled

“Riley! This isn’t funny”

“I’m sorry I can’t help it…its hilarious!” she guffawed

“wait…why aren’t you hungover!” Liam asked knowing Riley had also been drinking

“because my lovely husband… I worked in a bar…I have mastered the talent of drinking without a hangover” she smirked

“you should really go shower, you have like thirty minutes before your first meeting with Francesco starts”

“oh no…how am I going to face him after last night?”

“I’m sure he won’t even remember, and if he does he’s not going to embarrass you Liam…you’re the king…he’ll probably act like he doesn’t have a clue what you’re talking about, just don’t bring it up”

“yes…but I know what happened Riley!...the things I said in front of him…in front of everyone” he groaned as he got up running his hands over his face and through his hair

“Liam you still have fake blood on your face…” realising he had just pulled it through his hair he groaned making his way over to the bathroom. Riley stood from the bed and made her way over to him, catching him just at the door.

“I didn’t get a morning kiss” she whispered shyly

“oh” he smiled softly, leaning down and placing his lips on hers.

“I’ll get you some breakfast to eat before your meeting” she smiled

“and som-”

“painkillers” she finished what he was going to say.

“yes…thank you” he placed a gently kiss on her head then headed into the bathroom to climb into the shower.

After a quick shower, the bathroom door opened and out walked Liam with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets falling from his hair onto the small towel he had draped over his shoulders. Riley had just finished making his breakfast in the little kitchenette in the royal apartment, she walked into the bedroom, placing his plate of pancakes down on the small table with two painkillers and a glass of orange juice.

Liam stood in front of his dresser, drying his hair with the towel from his shoulders. riley headed over to the walk in closet to get some clothes for when she got out of the shower.

“Riley?” Liam called

“yeah?”

“can you come here for a second…”

Riley made her way out into the bedroom where Liam stood butt ass naked looking through his drawers.

“did you move my briefs?”

“Liam…why on earth would I do that?” she smirked

“because its you…” he smirked

“you want your panties you’re going to have to look for ‘em”

“Riley! For the millionth time they’re men’s briefs”

“what about…budgie smugglers?”

“Riley!”

“Banana Hammock?”

“no”

“Pickle pincher”

“Riley I swea-”

“MANTIES” she guffawed as she made her way back into the closet then walked out just a few seconds later with a black pair of men’s briefs

“you moved them yesterday” she smirked

“I did?”

“yes…before we had dinner?”

“yes that’s right I did!, sorry” he blushed

“its alright…now get your manties on before someone comes looking for you” she pinged his underwear at him then walked back into the closet laughing.

“you’re lucky I love you!” he called to her as he caught them.

“aww I love you too sweetie!” she chuckled

Once he was dressed Liam sat down to quickly eat his breakfast and take his painkillers whilst Riley went for a shower. After putting his plate on the counter in the kitchenette he went into the bathroom and slid the shower door open a little.

“ill see you later” he smiled

“see you later sweetie, I love you” Riley smiled as she placed a gently kiss on his lips careful not to get any water on him.

“I love you too” he replied with a smile before pulling the shower door shut then heading out for his meeting. Once he reached the door to the apartment Liam gripped the handle then let out a deep breath knowing Bastian would be outside the door. He opened the door with a smile on his face.

“good morning your majesty” Bastian greeted him with a curt nod

“yes good morning” Liam replied a little awkwardly, Liam stood not knowing what to say next.

“ummm…” he mumbled then cleared his throat “shall we?...” he gestured for them to head down the corridor.

“of course your Majesty…after you.”

“of course” Liam smiled slightly then started to make his way down to his meeting.

He had no idea if he should say anything about the night before or if he should just pretend it never happened…no he should say something…Bastian was his head of security but also a friend, he didn’t want it to be awkward between them.

“Bastian…I-I hope you will accept my apology for last night”

“no need your Majesty…”

“yes there is Bastian…”

“you were just enjoying the ball your Majesty nothing wrong with that…as a matter of fact…I quiet enjoyed the show” Bastian smirked

“you enjoyed it?”

“yes your Majesty…it was quiet entertaining”

“entertaining?” Liam whispered to himself

“don’t worry your Majesty…your secret is safe with me”

“no Bastian there is no secret, ive not got any secrets”

“what happens between two people stays between them” Bastian replied obviously talking about the kings behaviour last night, knowing that hardly any members of the court were actually still there, he wasn’t going to say a word to anyone about the kings kinky mind.

“yes…thank you?” Liam thanked him confused about the whole conversation.

Once they approached the door to his office, the two stopped outside.

“your Majesty…” Bastian pointed to his own lips trying to show the king that he had a little bit of his breakfast on his mouth. Liam's eyes widened, shocked as he took a step back

“Bastian! That is not appropriate!!” Liam exploded then turned and entered the room, closing the door behind him.

Liam spent the whole meeting stuck in his head, he couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation with Bastian…why on earth would Bastian think it was okay to do that? He knew he was married… The king rattled his brain trying to figure it out.

It was just twenty minutes into the meeting when Francesco grabbed the king’s attention.

“Your Majesty…if I may be forward…I wasn’t going to say anything but…it seems you have something on your mouth” Liam turned to see his reflection in the window beside him then he gasped “no…” he whispered as he removed the food, realising that Bastian had just been pointing out the food on his mouth.

“thank you Francesco” he nodded as his attention fell to the meeting. The meeting finished about forty minutes later, once Francesco had left the room Liam called Bastian in.

“your majesty”

“Bastian…I apologise…I shouldn’t have yelled earlier, I didn’t realise you were telling me I had something on my face”

“that’s quite alright”

“No Bastian it isn’t, you know I’ve been racking my brain all through that meeting about our conversation earlier…about last night…i was intoxicated…I should not have advanced on you the way that I did…it was unprofessional…”

“but your maje-”

“No Bastian I’m not finished, I am happily married…I have a wife…we are planning on having children…what happened last night was…out of character and I assure you it will never happen again”

“your Majesty I don’t recall you advancing on me”

“now Bastian…you don’t have to pretend because I am your king…I get it…you enjoyed it when I kissed you-”

“your Majesty! I assure you!-”

“Bastian, please, I was at fault, I shouldn’t have kissed you”

“I think you may have been a little more intoxicated than you think, your majesty…I assure you…you did not kiss me!”

“but Riley sa-” as soon as Liam realised what had happened, his face went bright red.

“god dammit Riley!…” he groaned

“Bastian…I’m sorry…could we continue this conversation on the way up to the apartment?”

“of course…after you.” Bastian smirked

As they headed up to the apartment Liam apologised to Bastian repeatedly, he explained to him what had happened, Bastian found it hilarious.

“wait so when I tried to tell you, you had something on your face-”

“yes…I thought you wanted a kiss” Liam chuckled as his face went red.

Once they reached the apartment, Bastian waited at the side of the door, whilst Liam walked in. Riley was sitting on the sofa, reading through some papers when Liam walked in. He stopped as soon as he seen her. When Riley heard the door open, she looked up to see him standing there with a smirk on his face.

“you!” he pointed at her.

“now Liam…” she said as she slowly got up from the sofa, putting the papers down on the table “just…take a deep breathe” she smirked then looked over towards the bedroom door.

“its not funny” Liam stated not moving a muscle

“I’m…just gonna go…” Riley bolted, jumping over the back of the sofa on her way towards the bedroom, with Liam hot on her tail…

“Riley rhys I swear to god…when I catch you!” he called running after her.

Liam chased Riley into the bedroom, laughing as they went.

“I cant believe you did that!” he smirked as he stood on one side of the bed and she stood on the other.

“I had some food from breakfast on my mouth before i went into the meeting, he tried to tell me by pointing to his lips…I THOUGHT HE WANTED A KISS!!!”

“I CAN’T…I’M GONNA GET A STITCH” Riley laughed hysterically.

“I can’t believe you did that” he laughed

“I had to…you couldn’t remember…of course I was going to get a little fun out of it.”

“you are so lucky I love you…no one else would get away with embarrassing a king like that” he smirked

“aww it’s because you love me so very much…”

“yes it is…but I think I owe you some payback” Liam slowly made his way around to Riley.

“come here sweetie” Liam smirked

“no…” she laughed

“awe c’mon…come here…” he laughed as he stepped closer to her

“Liam rhys…I am not stupid…”

“oh Riley…my sweet, sweet Riley”

Riley smirked as she stood with her back to the bed. Liam stepped closer to her, as he went to take one final step, Riley quickly climbed onto the bed, as she went to head for the door, Liam gently grabbed her feet. As she fell down on to the mattress laughing, she turned over to face him as he leaned himself over top of her, holding himself up.

“and what are you doing?” she smirked with one of her eyebrows raised and a smirk on her face.

“I’m just giving my wife what she deserves” he chuckled as he leaned down, pressing his lips against Riley's.

“why don't we get started on that family we talking about?“ liam whispered

“I would love that“

Just a short while later the two lay side by side under the duvet.

“and that…my dear husband…is all I wanted” Riley laughed as she cuddled into his chest.

If You like it, give it a wee Reblog <3

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knifeshoeoreofight · 6 years

Photo

@sidgenophotochallenge

The new second officer is cute, alright? Geno can’t be blamed for taking one look at him across the crew’s mess, and deciding then and there that he was going to get to know Commander Crosby.

He’s been hearing about him for ages now. He’s the youngest Starfleet graduate to assume the rank of second officer of a starship, ever. Geno’s no run-of-the mill ensign himself. He never even attended the Academy. Captain Lemieux found him on a backwater space station working for a private corporation, and offered him the opportunity of a lifetime. And here he is, second in command to the chief science officer. Everyone thinks he’ll assume the post himself within the next couple of years.

Anyway. It’s with some confidence then, that he approaches Crosby, darling of the Academy. Fuck he’s cute. Geno doesn’t know much human he’s got in him, but it’s enough to make his black hair curl charmingly around his very Vulcan ears. When Geno says his name, he looks up with these big hazel eyes that make him look incredibly disarming.

This is the most promising leader the Academy’s produced in a generation? Well. Appearances can be deceiving and all that.

“Hello,” Geno says, and gives him his most charming grin. “Nice to meet, Commander Crosby. I’m—”

“Lieutenant Malkin, I know,” Crosby says, face impassive. “I’d been meaning to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh really,” Geno says, flirtatiously. His tone is lost on Crosby.

“Yes,” he says seriously. “I wanted to speak with you about the training simulation we ran yesterday. Our performance was within the parameters of acceptable, but I had some ideas about how to best use the science division in such a scenario.”

“Er...sure,” Geno says, before getting sucked into a conversation so intense and technical it feels akin to being smacked in the face with the entire Starfleet Officer’s Handbook.

***

And that’s how the situation continues, regarding Crosby. Behind the baby face and the plush, kissable mouth lies the sharpest, most analytical mind Geno’s ever encountered, And he’s met multiple full-blooded Vulcans.

There are moments Geno can catch glimpses of the captain Crosby is undoubtedly going to be someday, and it makes his hair stand on end sometimes. He also can feel himself falling for him hopelessly. Not in a romantic way.

Or, not just in a romantic way.

He’s lying in his bunk one night, after a slightly terrifying away mission, the realization dawning that he’d follow Crosby anywhere. Die for him, even. He can tell he’s going to be a captain like Starfleet’s never seen.

And it might be sooner rather than later. Captain Lemieux is a legend, but his health isn’t what it was. There have been endless hushed conversations along the ship’s corridors and common areas, all trying to guess when Captain Lemieux will step down, and if Commander Crosby will be chosen to take his command. Geno scoffs at the speculation. Of course Crosby will be captain. There isn’t doubt in his mind.

He doesn’t know how much attention Crosby pays to the rumors. If he’s listening to them, he’s just working even harder, taking his perfectionism to even more exacting heights.

He’s not as emotionless as he pretends to be, though. Geno’s seen him whenever they have children on board, how gentle and soft he goes with them. He’s seen him calm and soothe anxious refugees, mediate interspecies disputes, and take out a hostile and attacking alien lifeform with such efficiency and skill that Geno might have… visited the image when all alone in his bunk. A… few times.

Basically, Geno is fucked. He’s Commander Crosby’s man for the rest of his life. Mostly content to serve loyally under him, without trying again to see if he’d ever look at Geno as more than his fellow officer.

If he gets a little wasted on Skagaran whiskey one night and maybe does a little crying about how Commander Crosby doesn’t love him back, well. At least he did it alone in his quarters where no one could find out.

***

The mission that results in Captain Lemieux’s retirement leaves the ship damaged and them all a little shaken. Crosby assumes the mantle of captain in sickbay, sworn in with his uniform torn and his pale face smudged with soot. His shoulders are set straight and strong, and only Geno catches the tremor in his hands and the tightness of his lips as he takes the oath. They leave Former Captain Lemieux to the care of the medical staff, and file out into the corridor.

“Wait,” Crosby says, putting a hand on Geno’s sleeve. “Lieutenant Malkin— Geno. I want to, um. To talk to you. But, not here.”

Crosby’s lips are set and pale, and he has dark circles under his eyes. “Of course,” Geno says gently. He follows Crosby to the holodeck, and waits without asking him what he’s doing as Crosby tells the computer to “run simulation 87.”

“This is my favorite,” Crosby says quietly, as the holodeck begins to shimmer around them. Geno isn't sure what he was expecting, maybe the dry red deserts of Vulcan. It certainly wasn’t a warm tropical beach, with towering palms rustling in a fragrant breeze beneath a star-drenched sky.

As soon as the simulation solidifies, Crosby’s shoulders slump, and he covers his face with his hands. He draws an awful, shuddering breath.

“I can’t do this, Geno,” he says, voice muffled and watery. “I can’t— what if—”

Geno is only human. He heart is feeling too soft and blown open to do anything but reach out to enfold Crosby— Sidney, in his arms, and pull him into his chest. Miracle of miracles, Sidney not only doesn’t pull away, he collapses into Geno, fists clenching Geno’s blue uniform shirt. Geno rests his chin on top of Sidney’s curls,

“Shhhh,” he says, restraining himself with difficulty from dropping a kiss onto Sidney’s hair. “You gonna be fine, I’m know this. Never see anything like you. You amazing, Sid. Would follow you anywhere, forever.”

“You—” Sidney leans back to look at Geno. “You think—”

“I know,” Geno says fiercely, with all the belief he has in him. Sidney stares at him, tropical stars shining in his eyes. “I say already. No matter what, would follow you anywhere. For me, my captain can only be you.”

Sidney breathes in sharply, and ducks his head back into Geno’s neck. He’s very, very still for a long moment.

Then, Geno feels him press his lips to Geno’s skin. Soft, and hesitant, two things he’s never known Sidney to be.

“Sid,” he says softly, unable to stem the raw affection and longing in his tone.

Sid doesn’t answer, only tilts his face up. “Thank you,” he says. “For— just being here.” He laughs a little, ruefully. “Here for me to collapse on.”

“You strongest person I’m know, Sid,” Geno tells him, laying a hand on his cheek. “Best person. You should know, is okay to let someone hold you up sometimes. No one can do this job alone. And you not alone.”

Brave with hope, he leans down, and does what he’s wanted to do since he first met Sidney: he softly kisses that impossible mouth.

Sidney leans into the kiss with a sigh, and his hands find their way from Geno’s uniform front to his face, the back of his neck.

It’s not a heated kiss, not an urgent one. But it’s warm, and feels full of promise.

It feels like a beginning.

The light in Sidney’s eyes when he breaks away, the determined curve of his smile, that feels like a beginning too.

Geno grins back at him, fierce and proud.

“Well then, Lieutenant Malkin. Let’s show the universe what we’re made of,” Sidney says.

“We show,” Geno says. “We show, together.” And he leans down to kiss Sidney again, the stars glimmering bright above them.

#SidGeno Photo Challenge #sidgeno #sidney crosby/evgeni malkin #hockey rpf #dana writes a thing

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