#spent all of yesterday and this morning in bed reading fic but now i need a change of pace | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beybaldes · 2 years ago

Text

yesterday once more

Eddie Roundtree × Fem!Reader

djats masterlist

word count: 2.4k

request! : Okay I'm doing my fourth rewatch of fleabag and the confession between her and the priest is the holy grail of angstiness. So something along those lines. "awfully right person, terribly wrong time" They deeply love each other but won't end up together, a very bittersweet ending. It could be because he leaves the band or even some other third force that will come into action. Take what you need, you'll do a great job anyway!!

thank you for the request @thefemininemystiquee I hope you enjoy <3

a/n I wrote this and then realised you could've meant confession like in the confessional scene or 'I love you' 'it'll pass' - this is heavily based on the latter but if you want one based off the scene in the confessional I'd love to write it !!!

Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered vour fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more Eddie fics xoxo

"I'm not in love with you anymore, Eddie."

A beat of silence. Eddie's tear-filled eyes met your own, a frown etched deeply onto his lips. You looked heartbroken by the words you'd just spoke, completely devastated, as if saying it had created a reality you never wanted to occur.

It wasn't that you weren't in love with him, he knew that, it was that you weren't going to let yourself be any longer. You'd spent too many years dancing around each other and you'd had enough; you'd never dare ask Eddie if he returned the sentiment in fear of breaking your own heart. You'd never have guessed that that was what would cause your heart to break.

How many times had you almost kissed? How many times had you danced around your room late at night, your favourite record playing as you became one in the moonlight? How many times had he pushed his hook ups right back out of the door at your appearance? How many times had you slept in the same bed together, cuddling throughout the night and staring silently at the other in the early morning light in hopes of studying every detail of their face before they woke up?

If only you'd have said something sooner, rather then revealing your love for the blonde by denying it, then you would've known he loved you just as much as you loved him. And while he may have spent time pining after Camilla, being infatuated with the thought of her, he fell in love with you; but now it was far too late for him to say anything. The damage had been dually done.

"I didn't know you ever were, birdie."

What would've been better? He couldn't undo the years he'd lost from plain obliviousness and even ignorance, he couldn't fix the parts of you he'd silently hurt across the years - and Eddie decided then that he wouldn't hurt you again, not now the choice so easily presented itself. So, he lied.

Eddie had been in love with you since the night when he stumbled into his room in the house with some just as drunk blonde wrapped around his arm. He hadn't been expecting to find you sat in his bed; though the sight wasn't an unwelcome one. Before either you or the blonde could comment on the situation, he asked her to show herself out, ignoring the nasty words she started throwing at him and continuing to ignore her complaints even as he closed the door in her face. Eddie was quick to kick off his shoes and make his way over to his bed, joining you against the pillows. The two of you spent the night dancing to both sides of the carpenters album 'close to you,' and then fell asleep together in Eddie's bed, both of you in his clothes and wrapped in each others arms.

That was the first of many nights like that, and one of the last nights either of you attempted to hook up with some stranger or some groupie despite the many that would flock to you over the years to come.

Eddie also knew you were in love with him ever since that day. The following morning, he woke up to the feeling of your finger ghosting over his temple, brushing the hair of his face every time it fell back in the way of your view. He let you stare at him for over a hour before he pretended to wake up, allowing you to commit every crack, wrinkle, freckle and scar to memory.

Over two decades on from that night you could still draw his expression from that morning.

Why didn't he ever say anything? As the two of you stared each other down backstage, neither moving, neither wanting to be the first to leave, all he could think about was all the opportunities he'd had over the past decade to confess his feelings to you - non of which he'd ever taken.

After the shit-show that was the performance you'd just done and the day you'd just had, the both of you knew the end was near, even if you didn't want to say it out loud. For all he knew, this was the last time Eddie was ever going to see you again.

Eddie closed the gap between the two of you, cupping your face in his hands and running his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks that were flushed and tear stained. Another position you were familiar with when it came to Eddie, many of your almost kisses beginning from something along these lines, except this time there was no almost; just an actual kiss.

Pensively, Eddie leant forward, pressing his lips to yours softly, cradling your face close to his with a tension in the hold he had on your face. You would've waited another ten years if it meant you could kiss Eddie again; if that meant he'd kiss you like this, hold you like this.

The both of you melded together, holding onto the kiss for as long as you could, knowing it was a hello and a goodbye and an I love you, I love you, I love you all in one.

But someone has to leave first. That is a very old story of which there is no other version.

You pulled away from Eddie's touch, resting your forehead against his as you regained your breath. Your eyes stayed downcast to the floor, knowing if you met his gaze, you'd never want to look away - you wouldn't be able to go on and live and find the life you deserved. Eddie didn't push you, instead respecting the space you'd created between the two of you. He let you walk away without another word and didn't chase after you, even when his heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest and everything in him told him to.

The following morning, after a restless night without you in his arms for the first time in a long time, a smile finally graced Eddie's face. He hadn't been earlier enough to see you get in your cab, but he'd arrived just in time to know you weren't getting back in that your bus, and neither was he.

It felt like closure in a way - knowing that neither of you were going to continue with the life that was the band, that both of you were beginning a new chapter in your life. It stung deeper then any weapon could though that going forward you weren't going to be friends; only strangers who'd happened to cross paths.

When Julia showed up on his doorstep 20 years later he knew it would cause him a world of hurt to talk about the band, but when she inevitably brought up your name, he was truly and completely crushed. He'd spent 20 years trying not to think about you and what could've been and here he was recounting every moment of your relationship like he was okay with it.

"I never did find anyone else." Eddie answered honestly to the camera, a fond and longing smile curled on his lips. "There was no one better then y/n. You couldn't help but fall in love with her, even then... even now."

It was six months later, to the day, that he received an email with a copy of the documentary attached and was quick to open the file and watch it.

Seeing your face for the first time in two decades was bittersweet. You looked just like, well, you, but older, more beautiful if that was possible. And when his name inevitably came up, the same soft and loving smile that had crossed his face graced yours.

"Eddie?" You rhetorically asked, thinking on your words in a long moment of gentle silence. "We spent so many years worried about admitting our feelings to each other - and potentially loosing each other because of it."

Julia let you sit in the silence, your eyes glazing over with what looked like tears through the camera. "I never loved anyone like I loved Eddie, and I still haven't, I don't think I ever will. And I spent years thinking about how the last thing I said to him that day was that I didn't love him anymore."

"But you lied?" Juli prompted.

"Kind of. I think Eddie knew the truth - we always did when it came to each other - I really hope he knew that when I said that, I meant quite the opposite."

"And if he's out there watching this, what would you want to say to him?" Eddie's eyes widened at the question, not having been asked that himself and now wondering which of the two of you had been interviewed first, or If fate was pulling some twisted and long frayed strings on his behalf through Julia.

A longer pause. You avoided the camera and Julia's gaze, looking down at your hands as you picked at the skin around your nails, unsure of where to begin or what to say. "My Eddie." You mused, looking back to camera. It felt to Eddie, that even through the screen, you were looking directly at him. "I hope that we work out in another lifetime. I'll come and find you in the next one and we'll start over again."

"Yeah." Eddie answered, though he knew you couldn't hear him, that you'd never get to hear him tell you that's all he wanted as well. He knew you'd know, though, you always did when it came to gather. "Yeah, that'd be nice, birdie. Be real nice."

~~~ non-angst/bittersweet bonus ending ~~~

It had taken 12 minutes exactly after finishing Julia's documentary for Eddie to book a flight to Pittsburgh. Though you'd never said it in the documentary, he'd recognise the house behind you as your childhood home even centuries on. He'd spent countless days and nights in his adolescence in that garden, that kitchen, that bedroom.

By the afternoon of the same day, he was standing on your doorstep, hands shaking as he raised them to knock of your door, and after 10 minutes of debating whether what he was doing was crazy or not, he finally got the courage to do so.

Even your call of 'one second' and footsteps rushing through the house had Eddie weak in the knees. He was terrified of what you would say - would you kick him to the curb, tell him that he was 20 years too late for you love? Would you welcome him back into your life with open arms? Would you have a family? Kids? A husband? A wife?

"Sorry, I-" You were just as beautiful as the day he'd last seen you. "Eddie?"

Eddie had spent the entire flight practising what he was going to say to you when he got here, but now he was in front of you, he found himself speechless. Where could he even begin in terms of making things right? Making things how they were supposed to be?

"I want to pay bills and slow dance with you, birdie, until we're old and wrinkled and you regret ever being with me." You stepped out from inside of your house, one step closer to Eddie on your porch and the life you'd spent years dreaming about and he was now offering to you. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I should've said something as soon as the day I met you, but I'm here and saying it now and-"

You'd be a fool not to.

You grabbed Eddie's face, clashing your lips to his in a sudden, swift motion. Despite being stunned by the kiss, Eddie was quick to lean into it, pulling you flush against him and lifting you off the ground, spinning the two of you around as you laughed into him, breaking away from the kiss with a smile.

Eddie placed you back down on the ground, but his hands never left your waist now that they'd found it. A series of ruby red kissed were pressed to his cheeks, his jaw and his lips once again, staining his skin though he'd never mind, not as long as it was you doing it.

"I'm old." You whispered into the space between you, though there wasn't much to begin with, your lips brushing against his as you moved them to speak. "I'm not the girl you fell in love with all those years ago."

"I don't care." Eddie answered back, holding your cheeks so carefully you'd think he was holding the world in the palm of his hand: as far as he was concerned, he was. "I could fall in love with you anywhere in any form. As long as you let me, I want to do this and I want to do it with you. I don't want to spend another second without you in my life, not again."

"You sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life." Eddie pressed another kiss to your lips, cradling the back of your neck with the hand that wasn't cradling your cheek and keeping you close to him. "I love you birdie. I always have and I always will."

"My Eddie." You hummed, smiling up at the blonde you'd loved since you were 13, him finally and permanently in your arms. "I love you too."

#daisy jones and the six imagine #daisy jones and the six x reader #djats x reader #eddie roundtree x reader #djats imagine #eddie loving x reader #eddie roundtree oneshot #eddie roundtree imagine #eddie loving #eddie roundtree

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bellysoupset · 1 year ago

Note

In your last fic, Luke mentioned that it’s bulking season, so I have an idea pertaining to that. I read somewhere that eating right before going to bed is an effective way of gaining weight, but it can also lead to indigestion. Maybe Luke overeats before going to sleep with Bella. He wakes up the next morning still feeling really full and now he’s nauseous. Maybe he tries to hide it from Bella because she warned him about this happening the night before, but he ends up puking and he has to admit she was right

(I love your writing btw, I’ve fallen in love with all of your characters <3)

"No," Bella shook her head, snatching the banana from his hands, "absolutely not, Lucas."

He let out a whine and stretched on the couch, trapping her with his legs and retrieving the banana, "sorry, babe, I need this one more than you do."

"I don't want your puta banana," Bella scoffed, trying to fight him for it, "I just watched you clear four plates of food, Lucas and a weight gain shake. You're literally so stuffed you're breathing wrong. Give me the fucking-"

"Nope," he unpeeled it, ducking his head and belching, "I'm already behind in my weight plan."

"Your weight plan!?" Bella widened her eyes at him, "Luke, you spent half of yesterday's night feeling sick. Stop this, baby, you've eaten-" she scoffed as he gobbled up the banana in three quick bites, "goddammit, Lucas."

"Don't be mad at me," he whined, rubbing his gorged stomach, "it's part of the game, Bells."

"Forgive me if I don't like seeing you feeling sick," Bella cringed, crossing her arms and sitting as far away from him as she could in the couch.

He opted for not saying anything, since any argument he tried surely would only make Bella more pissed. After a minute of heavy silence she let out a sigh and uncrossed her arms, getting up from the couch and stomping away.

Lucas groaned, sliding down on the couch and resting a hand on his stomach. More than a small part of him agreed with Bella. He loved eating, but this was too much. His previous bulking seasons had been harsh, yes, but at least then he didn't have to gain so much.

Now, after two stomach bugs in a row, appendicitis, and the, frankly offensive, amount of weight he had lost during the break up, this one was proving to be particularly hellish. He had gone down two sizes of jeans.

"Here," Bella said, startling him and Luke raised his eyes, puzzled. He had expected her to be sulking in bed. Instead she was holding a glass of water, an antiacid already fizzling inside of it. She still looked plenty pissed off, but there was concern dancing in her eyes, "and come to bed."

"In a bit, I don't think I should lie down right now," Lucas took the glass of water, but didn't let go of her hand, planting a kiss on her fingertips, "thank you, baby."

She rolled her eyes, annoyed still, and pulled her hand from his grasp, only to comb her fingers through his hair, "you can thank me by taking it easier tomorrow," she said strongly, planting a kiss on top of his head, "I'm going to bed."

He knew she was still annoyed, because otherwise she'd have stuck around.

Lucas let her go, sipping on the fizzy water and trying to work up some satisfying burps to ease the tension in his stomach. Eventually, though, the pressure of his belly pressing down on him and the ache in his throat from the acid reflux, started taking its toll. His eyes dropped and Luke yawned, eyeing the short corridor that led to their bedroom. Bella had left the door open, he could see the television light spilling out, but didn't have the energy to get up.

He ended up falling asleep right there.

Only for his alarm to go off at six AM, a room away from him. He woke up with Bella letting out something he could only classify as a growl, sleepily trying to find his phone to turn the alarm off.

"I got it," Lucas said, voice thick with sleep as he stumbled, drunkenly, into their room and patted the bed to find it. She opened one eye, her curls a lion's mane around her head.

"Turn that fucking thing off, Lucas."

"Sorry, sorry-" he finally retrieved it from the mess of blankets and turned off the alarm. 06H05 AM. Bella let out a heavy sigh, turning on the bed so she was facing away from him, "come to bed."

It was so tempting... But he had gym. And then classes from eight to six PM.

"Sorry, baby," Lucas sighed, crawling on the bed so he could plant a kiss on her cheek. She let out a frustrated huff, but didn't bother saying anything else and he got out of the bed, walking to the bathroom.

Normally by morning his dinner had gone down considerably. He had given up on the "3 AM shake" tactic that most football players subscribed to, after the second night it had him bolting to the bathroom to puke everything up. He couldn't even imagine how Vince managed it.

Today he looked just as bloated as the previous night. Instead of his weight being lower in his torso, his belly was still painfully taut from the top of his stomach onwards, making it look like he was puffing his stomach out. He cringed, poking it lightly and belching when the poke awakened a couple gurgles.

Lucas grimaced as the churning started back up and he slowly peeled off his clothes, forced to pace himself in order to not upset his belly more. He didn't normally shower before gym, only right after, but today if he didn't shower he was going to fall back asleep.

By the time he arrived to the gym that was near campus, Lucas was starting to doubt anything was digesting at all. His stomach was gurgling non stop, but it was still rock hard and he had been forced to wear his biggest pair of track pants, because anything else had felt like he was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste.

Vince was already in the gym, throwing the cross fit ropes, grey tank top drenched with sweat.

"Morning," Lucas groaned, walking closer as he started, or attempted to, his warm up.

"Morn- Damn, Luke, you good?" Vince raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were against the 3 AM shake-" he eyed Luke's bloated stomach, pushing on the fabric of his gym top.

"I am," Lucas grimaced, "this is all dinner. It's sitting like a brick."

Vince whistled, looking shocked, "did you take any medicine...?"

"Which?" Lucas sat on the ground as he attempted to stretch and touch his toes, "I'm just bloated, I don't have heartburn to take TUMS and pepto is just going to back me up," he rolled his eyes.

Vin shrugged, "I guess," he said in a worried tone, "you're just looking a little pasty, brother."

"Yeah," Lucas agreed even though there was nothing to agree. He finally touched his toes and groaned, letting his head hang in the space between his outstretched arms as the position made his stomach ache fiercely.

There was no way he could manage to train at all. Lucas quickly gave up on the possibility of lifting anything today when even trying to lift a dumbell had him gagging against his hand. He joined the aerobics class, trying to at the very least stay moving. Normally he could do the little old ladies class with his eyes closed, but today even that was kicking his ass.

A woman in her late fifties chuckled as she passed him by once the class was over and he was sprawled on the ground, trying to keep himself from puking, "Lucas, this was sad."

"I know," he groaned, pathetically, "rematch next week, Mrs. Fitz?"

"Uhm," she pretended to think about it, "only if you don't pout when I kick your ass. Have a nice day, Luke-" she waved him goodbye, joining the group of married women who were herded near the door, giggling.

Lucas rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling, only to have the lights shadowed when Vince leaned over him, "flirting with cougars doesn't count as exercising, Luke," he said cheekily, offering a hand to pull Luke up, "did you at least manage to work up an appetitie for breakfast?"

Lucas reeled at the thought of the greasy, carb loaded breakfast that awaited him, "fuck no," he whined and Vince paid him no mind, squeezing his nape and steering him to the showers.

He felt drunk by the time they entered the large communal bathroom. Without any sense of which way was up, the whole world twirling in rhythm with his guts. Lucas wasn't sure why it the nausea wasn't backing down, it had been hours...

He sat down on the bench, trying to muster up energy to undress and Vince, already under the water and washing his hair, glanced in his direction. He was tall enough that even with the stall closed, he had a clear view of the bathroom, "Luke?"

Lucas groaned, spreading his legs apart and tugging on his sweat drenched top. It was clinging to his belly and it was too much. He grabbed the neckline and tugged on it until he managed to undress it, probably damaging the tanktop.

Now shirtless, he glanced down and let out a whine, getting a clear view of his stomach. It was huge and gurgling fiercely.

"Get in the shower, Luke, you just need to wash the gross feeling away," Vince said, very wisely. Normally it'd be a good advice, but today Lucas thought he was past the "wash the gross away" stage.

He all but crawled to the shower and didn't have any energy to wash himself, instead opting for just staying under the cold spray for as long as he could get away with it. Staring at the swirling water, he worked up a nasty wet belch that had Vince saying "Luke?" in a worried tone.

He braced against the tiled wall with one arm, the other one cradling his stomach and swallowed fiercely, battling the nausea, "I'm fine!" he Lucas yelled back. He was not going to lose that dinner after so many hours feeling like shit.

"I'm fine," he repeated, jaw heavy, lifting his head so he could get a gulp of water and spitting it back out to get rid of the sweet saliva flooding his mouth.

Vin was in a great mood as they walked to the nearest café. A mood Lucas wanted to join in, but he could barely participate in the conversation, his head throbbing with the hours of discomfort.

"Cheer up," Vince rattled him by the shoulders and approaching the barista, "hi Jenny."

Jenny was just seventeen, with a round face and big curls around it. She had a huge crush on Leo, of all people, and Vince loved holding this over his head.

"Hi Vince," she smiled brightly, "hi Lucas..." then she trailed off, glancing past their shoulders in search of Leo. Vince's smile was wolfish with how entertained he was.

"Leo doesn't take up the six AM slot anymore, Jenny," he said, whispering, "he's moved to eight AM, before work."

Her face lit up at the new information, "oh yeah? And do you think he'll still come here without you guys?"

Lucas glared at Vince when he nodded eagerly, clearly trying to get Leo in an awkward situation, "yeah, with his boyfriend," Luke said sourly and Jenny's happy smile fell.

"Ah... He's dating?"

Vince rolled his eyes at Lucas, then smiled sympathetically to Jenny, "for almost a year now, Jen, sorry," he said, as if the teenager had ever had a shot.

She pouted, looking heartbroken.

Vince huffed as they sat outside the cafe, a bunch of pastries piled on his plate, a sad looking croissant before Lucas, "well, there goes the extra caramel drizzle I got, Lucas, thank you very much."

"You're an ass," Lucas scoffed, then tried to nibble on the croissant, only to put it down immediately as his stomach let out an angry gurgle at the prospect of more food. Cold sweat broke over his lips and he groaned, leaning and folding his arms on the table, resting his chin on them, "I feel like crap."

"You look worse," Vince said, still annoyed about the previous interaction and finishing up a blueberry muffin in two bites, "we are so gonna lose this season," he said morosely, picking at the berries of the next muffin, "we don't have Jon or Leo in the team anymore. You're a mess-"

"I'm fine," Lucas scoffed, latching his lips around the straw of his latte and sucking in. Yes, it tasted good, but the sugary beverage was too much. His mouth watered in the worst way possible and forcefully swallowed it down, "I'm fine, I just need to bulk-"

"I am broken," Vince continued, ignoring him, "even with all the physical therapy, my shoulder and ribs hurt like a bitch whenever the temperature drops and my breathing isn't right-"

Lucas' stomach churned with renewed fury as Vince's complaints washed over him. He hated losing, had always hated losing... He ducked his head and let out a sick sounding burp to his lap, before grabbing the drink and squeezing it in his hand, bringing the straw back to his mouth.

"-and it's just a fucking bummer, if the Tigers win again I'm going to personally beat up Tyler-" Vince's paused the ranting, frowning, "Lucas, stop-" he reached over the table to grab the drink, "put down the drink."

"I can do it," Luke slurred, pressing his eyes closed and moving back and out of Vin's reach, "we're not going to lose-"

"We're gonna lose regardless of you hurling all over your shoes or not, give me the fucking- Ah, porca miseria," Vince interrupted himself when Lucas gagged harshly, "Luke, c'mon, man..."

It was too late, though. He tried to swallow the next mouthful of his creamy coffee drink, only for his throat tp refuse to work. Lucas groaned, holding it in his mouth, planting the drink back on the table.

Faintly he could hear Vince was saying something, but Luke wasn't even sure of what to do. He couldn't swallow, at all. His stomach clenched and he slammed a hand over his lips, cheeks puffing out in a cartoonish manner.

He felt his chair be dragged, a feat only Vin could manage and then his big hand came to rest between Lucas' shoulder blades, pushing him to lean forward.

The coffee came up without him even gagging. He coughed, spluttering as the liquid hit the ground and struggled to breathe, trying to keep everything else inside.

"It's fine, Luke," Vince rubbed his back in a soft manner, although he sounded a bit frustrated, "just take a deep breath, you're fine."

"I want to go home," Lucas whined, hugging his sick stomach. He knew there was no way his dinner was going to stay down now that his gag reflex was triggered, so his classes for the day were bust, "Vin-"

"Yeah, alright, man," Vince sighed, helping him up, "you're a silly idiot, you know that?"

Luke let out a whimper, exhausted and sick. His nerves were fried and the bantering was lost on him. Vince drove him home, the car's silence so thick one could cut with a knife and he helped Lucas all the way to the door, knocking on it as he unlocked.

"Bells?" Vince called, about to hang Lucas' car keys, but he shook his head.

"Keep it, otherwise you'll be late for class-"

"Well, I can get a ride back, it's fin-"

"What the fuck is happening here?" Bella scoffed, interrupting them both. She was standing on the doorway to the kitchen, in just her pjs, hair in a ponytail, "why are you back home?"

"Because I threw up"

"Because he's an idiot"

Lucas glared at Vince, falling on the couch, "because I'm too sick for class," he explained and Bella raised a judgmental eyebrow, then glared at Vin herself.

"You," she said in a cold manner, "you've been egging him on with this madness, you ass. Get out of my house."

"Me!" Vince cried out, but there was a hint of humor in his voice as Bella crossed the room to shove him out, "I'm innocent! It's not my fault he's got the stomach of a delicate little baby-"

"Out!" Bella scoffed, shoving his arm a little harder, "and take the stupid protein shakes with you!"

"That's theft-" Vince giggled, barely moving with her shoving. His chuckle got interrupted when Lucas let out a sick sounding burp and groaned "...ohgod" sprinting down the hallway.

Bella cringed, pinching her nose bridge, "get the hell out of here, Vince," she said, then turned around, giving up on shoving him out and following Lucas into the bathroom.

"It's not even nine yet, Luke," Bella groaned, crouching next to him. He was folded over the toilet, resting his cheek on the seat, higyene be damned.

"m'sorry," he groaned, "should've listened-"

"Yeah yeah, you should," she rolled her eyes, cupping his face and pushing the bangs away from his eyes, "whatever did you gorge on this morning?"

"Nothi-" Lucas lurched forward, loudly heaving and bringing up another mouthful of foul vomit. Bella cringed at the smell, hitting the flush, while he hung over the toilet water, groaning and panting.

She sighed, moving forward to hold his forehead and rubbing his back with the other hand, "okay, get it up, Lucas. It's just too much food, you'll feel better soon."

"Don't think so," he scoffed, spitting in the water, "I think-" he belched, leaning his forehead on her palm, "I think I really overdid it."

Bella bit the inside of her cheek with annoyance and concern. She couldn't believe he had pushed himself so badly he was actually sick, after so many days sick already.

"Goddammit, Lucas," she sighed, thumping his back lightly when it sounded like he was choking. He let out a whimper, digging a hand on his stomach.

"Bella, kill me."

"I'm considering it," she teased, planting a kiss on his shoulder, "I'm going to let my team know I'll be offline this morning, give me a second."

Lucas groaned, feeling a whole new shade of shitty as he realized he had interrupted her mid work and braced against the toilet bowl again. Despite the puking, he didn't feel even a little bit better. If anything he felt worse.

He pressed his palm against his stomach and pressed, trying to rub it, only managing to give himself a bruise and cough mercilessly over the bowl.

She returned not even five minutes later, seeming a little more at ease than before and crouched down next to him as Lucas continued to dry heave.

"You're done, Lu," Bella sighed, straightening him up, "you're done."

"No," he shook his head, leaning back against the bathtub and hugging his stomach, "I feel awful, Bell... And I'm not done."

She wrinkled her nose not to say I-told-you-so and flushed the toilet again, grabbing their hand towel and wetting it so she could wipe his mouth and the cold sweat all over him.

"Okay, we're gonna go sit in the living room, alright? This way I can work and stay with you."

"But I'm not do-"

"We'll get you a bucket," Bella said, helping him up with a grunt, "c'mon, big guy-"

It took them a minute, Lucas pausing every other step to gag against his hand, but they made it back to the living room. The front door was shut and Lucas scoffed as he saw his car keys resting on the table.

"Vince is such a proud asshole."

Bella rolled her eyes, helping him lean back against the couch pillows, "pot calling the kettle black here, Lucas," she said, voice traveling from the kitchen. Soon she returned with a million things on her arms: his large water bottle, an empty bucket, a roll of toilet paper, her laptop, her laptop support.

"Ugh, I'm sorry," Lucas sighed, curling up, "I completely ruined your day."

"You didn't ruin it. I can code with one hand, it's just very slow" Bella smiled at him, planting the bowl on his arms and the water bottle on the ground as she fixed her set up, "c'mere, baby."

It didn't matter how bad he felt about interrupting her job, Lucas gratefully slumped against her, resting his head on her lap and sighing in relief when he felt her hand rest on his bloated stomach.

Bella kept rubbing circles on his stomach, then up his chest, stroking his cheek and petting his hair... Then back down, in a gentle rhthym. Lucas let out a heavy sigh, snuggling closer.

"I'm gonna take it easier from now on," he promised, kissing the inside of her wrist when her hand went up to stroke his cheek, absently minded.

Bella sighed, leaning in and planting a kiss on his forehead, "I mean, it just seems counterproductive to try to gain weight if you puke everything you ate," she teased, her breath tickling him and Lucas snorted, moving his face to bury his nose against her pajama's shirt.

#emeto #emetophilia #sickfic #mywriting #lucas atwood #overeating #i have not reread this one i am sorry #i'm in a rush so there may be typos - if so i'll try fixing later! ✌️

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magpiefngrl · 1 year ago

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Fic author self-rec

Rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙

Thank you for the tag @tenthousandyearsx a few weeks ago! I wanted to wait and get a couple of my WIPs ready and posted before doing it, but I'm now back to full time work so it's unlikely I'll finish those WIPs any time soon. 😢 So, here's 5 old fics of mine that I'm fond of. It's hard to choose a favourite, so I chose rather randomly, whatever popped in my head first tbh.

They're all drarry.

The Unquiet Grave (E, 21,5k, gothic vibes)

Quote: ‘What will happen is this. You’ll drag me to a poncy restaurant one evening soon, and I’ll complain about the number of forks and the size of the portions. Then I’ll drag you to my local and you’ll complain about the wine list and the clientele. This will be a recurring theme. But every time, every single time, we’ll end up in my bed — or yours — and I’ll make you forget your own name.’

My thoughts: I reread this yesterday after years, and I ended up really enjoying it. I particularly liked the dialogue in this read. I'm pretty happy with how this fic turned out. It's got a gothic mood and fits an autumnal mood; I often rec it for Halloween.

Sometimes a man needs (E, 5.5k, Flower Shop)

Quote: Harry knew what a huge mistake the whole thing was, but he’d already fallen for Malfoy, so what harm would a few more nights do? What harm would it do to kiss Malfoy some more and inhale his intoxicating smell? What harm was it that Malfoy spent almost every evening with Harry and whispered things in the dark that he never alluded to in the day? Harry was in love and in pain, but he might as well get what he could while he could.

My thoughts: I love the magical flower shop I created here, the types of flowers I came up with, and, craft-wise, I love Harry's voice. I remember I'd struggled with this fic, starting and deleting, starting and deleting, until I got a handle on Harry's voice and then it flowed in a morning.

The Gift (E, 29,5k, Captive Prince references)

Quote: Draco’s desires — at least where Potter is concerned — are a tangle, messed up like he is. A war of contradictions: Draco wants to please Potter, and he wants to hurt him. He wants to see Potter in ecstasy, but he can’t allow himself to be the one to do it. So, he’s chosen another way, a way that gives and takes at the same time. ‘You’ve been such a good boy so far,’ Draco tells Potter and watches with pleasure his instant reaction, the blood colouring his face. ‘I think you deserve a treat for being so good. So… obedient. Which is why Adam here will give you a… gift.’

My thoughts: Used to have complicated feelings about this one. I'd hidden it for years and only revealed it a couple of months ago. Draco is a writer here and channels many of my doubts and insecurities. It's not a fic that has a wide appeal, not cute or fluffy at all, but I love my prose here and I had fun with inserting CaPri nods and writing excerpts of a magical CaPri story.

The Boy Who Died (E, 26.8k, Voldemort Wins AU)

Quote: At times he thought he noticed his own lust mirrored in Malfoy’s gaze, like when he cooked and Harry sat on the kitchen table, mouth and fingers sticky with treacle syrup or brown sugar, or when Harry left the shower in his pyjama bottoms, his hair soft like a waterfall down his bare shoulders. Harry had taken to sleeping topless; he couldn’t get used to Malfoy’s fancy pyjamas, and although Malfoy had looked extremely put out the first time, he didn’t object.

My thoughts: I'm just so fond of this one! I thought of the reincarnation plot because of wangxian and I peppered some wangxian Easter eggs in this fic, but I didn't expect to fall in love with this dystopian, Voldemort Wins 'verse. It's a bleak world but somehow this fic has become one of my comfort reads and I've reread it often since posting it.

Through the Looking Glass and What Draco Found There (E, 17.4k, Mirror of Erised alternate dimension)

Quote: Getting to know Harry was to love him: hearing him laugh at Weasley’s jokes, watching him sleep, witnessing his passionate devotion to what was right and the ardor with which he supported his friends. He had butterflies in his stomach just at the sight of him; a sentiment he attempted to hide under a mask of cool detachment, because if anyone found out, Draco would be kicked out of Slytherin for incurable soppiness.

My thoughts: I love the Mirror universe I came up with, and am proud of the treatment of the Shrieking Shack in this fic, which I haven't seen elsewhere. It's one of my works I'm most proud of. I didn't expect it'd be emotional, but I've received a bunch of comments, some of them very recently, saying it made readers cry. oops?

I'm guessing many of you have done the latest round of this author game. So, tagging everyone who hasn't done it and wants to! Would love to see the fics you rec and why xx

#tagged #drarry #five fics

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awakefor48hours · 1 year ago

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The Rewritten Maribug Fic

[Fanfiction.net] || [AO3]

[Prev Chapter/Chapter 1] || [Next Chapter (3) >]

Alright, I meant to write this chapter yesterday but I got busy. Anyway, really glad to see you guys are enjoying this. Now onto the crack.

Cat Noir jumped into his room then said "Claws in" and felt his suit disappear from his body.

"Plagg, did you hear?" Adrien said with the excitement of a child. "Ladybug has a crush on Marinette!"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard," Plagg complained. "But why does that have you so worked up?"

"Because it could work. Ladybug and I were never meant to be, she made that clear. But Marinette and Ladybug, that should work." With each word, Adrien started to swoon almost as if he was the one in love.

Marinette has been in love with Cat Noir and Ladybug has a crush on her. The two of them must've been attracted to the courage and strength they both had. If he managed to show his support to his best friends, he could help them get together. But what to do?

First of all, when he gets to school, he should try to be as inconspicuous as possible about the fact that he knew Ladybug had a crush on his dear friend. Then he should also try to find out if the crush was mutual, there's no point in trying to get them together if Marinette was in love with someone else.

Yeah, but how to do it? Well, he could figure out in the morning because he had to finish some homework.

Adrien spent the rest the night doing his homework but he definitely struggled to concentrate due to the amount of thoughts he had. He wanted to make a plan, no matter how complicated it could get, for Ladybug and Marinette to fall in love.

But he had to get past step 1 first. He had to make sure that Marinette had feelings for Ladybug too.

Morning couldn't come quicker. Adrien almost jumped out of bed as soon as his alarm signaled for him to wake up.

"Today's gonna be a great day, Plagg!" Adrien said with far too much excitement for first waking up. "I get to talk to Marinette and see if she has a crush on Ladybug!"

"Are you sure this is the best idea, Adrien?" Plagg asked with more concern than usual. "I mean, sure I don't completely understand being in love but from what I've learned, you just gotta leave these things alone. If Marinette and Ladybug are supposed to be together, they'll get together on their own."

"I know about that, Plagg." Adrien slipped on his jacket and grabbed his bag. "But I could help move things along. It's not even like Marinette would know how to get into contact with Ladybug anyway."

No matter what came his way today, he would stop at nothing to show his friends all the love and support they need.

Adrien quickly ran downstairs and gobbled the pancakes his father made for him today, barely giving himself time to breathe or to taste them. The speed at which he ate them concerned both his father and Nathalie and maybe even Plagg. But needed to see Marinette as soon as he possible could.

Once he was done eating, he dismissed himself and ran to the limo faster than he's ever done in his life. Each passing second the drive took, he felt the butterflies in his stomach grow more and more. It was to the point where he could've easily been confused for the one in love himself. But if he couldn't find romance with Marinette, he could at least help his dearest friend find romance with her.

That's the end of this chapter. Really excited the for the juxaposition between Adrien's reaction and Marinette's reaction. Anyway, thanks again for reading.

#my fanfiction #ladynette #maribug #adrien agreste

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bbgmessi · 2 years ago

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O!Erling and A! Odegaard enjoying a lazy Saturday Morning:

Martin is frustrated after yesterday's game and feels like he failed his team despite his trying his best. Man City is quickly climbing the ladder behind Arsenal, and Erling(though elated) is understanding of his boyfriend's feelings

He gets up early and makes him a breakfast in bed with all his fav things.

(IDK much about Norwegian food Lefse was very good but I have the weirdest food preferences so you help me w what you think Martin would like but whatever it is Erling makes it)

(do swedish ppl and norwegian ppl eat similar food? Sorry for the proximity bias lol)

Martin is upset at first waking up alone

But he hears his man in the kitchen and calms himself down

I headcannon Erling doesn’t like breakfast food so maybe he makes himself a mini pizza

Erling’s hatred of breakfast would always make martin laugh bc its very out of character for him

Erling bringing up the food

They are silent until theyre half way done w their meal

Alot to unpack

Some media sources contributing their shit performance due to his “distraction” aka his relationship w Erling

A LOAD of online hate from supporters and opponents

Fans worried Erling is tryng to sabotage him mentally so Arsenal fumbles the league

Opponents just saying this is what happens when you sleep w S*ts

Live love twitter trolls you know.

Erling reaffirms that he was the heart of the game and that he did his best

Real fans still love him and if he wants to do better he needs to keep his head up

Martin in turn checking on haaland bc of the missed pk

Erling’s dm’s always weird b/c 50% normal hate

Like ppl saying hes a machine and he ran out of oil and thats why he missed the shot (Completely igoring his other goal)

Others saying its an example of omegas craking underpressure

Hyperanlysing the kick and saying its indicative of a bad future

Despite the fact that its like the only goal he’s missed????

Twats

Some fans want an end to their relationship bc it stresses THEM out as if Erling’s personal life is their business

The Erling are Marting are in love and trolls wont change that

Martin is very appreciative of his boyfriend’s gesture and he show it.

The two usually have such strict schedules but for now they’ll relax with their food and a harry potter marathon (I see them adopting a yellow lab so perhaps their dog is in bed watching with them.

ok before answering the hcs i’m so fascinated by u anon when did u try lefse ❤️ we do eat some similar food but not all but also i like to hand wave around it and claim scandinavian privilege for fic purposes❤️ (sometimes i just make up what fits my ideas best. it’s my universe now)

martin knowing disappointment so well, he’s lost enough games with norway, spent enough time loaned out from rm and all that so arsenal kinda choking is such a dark but familiar feeling for him 😔 so erling tries his hardest to help him relax by making breakfast for him… it’d be so funny if erling was like hey babe did you see what they’re saying about us. and martin is all. you shouldn’t read that you know but erling just finds it funny how much people hate him so he’ll read out loud from his phone about how people think he has an evil master plan to destroy martins psyche so city can come out on top (as if i’d do that to team norway.. fuck up our team dynamic forever just for that… he sighs)

also about the penalty kick.. that was like the first one he’s missed in what two years??? but people are tearing him DOWN over it, and martin can sense that he doesn’t really find it that funny anymore. maybe it’s getting to him a little:(( like erling is not even twenty three and he’s trying and working SO hard and martin makes sure he knows that it’s appreciated but trolls online are SO harsh. they both just need a pick me up lol

#slow morning in bed ❤️❤️❤️❤️#literally i love u anon #ask

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hey-kae · 2 years ago

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Only Yours

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x female reader (ft. Charles and Charlotte)

Request: hello!!! hope you are doing well :) thank you soooo much for already so perfect. it was amazing, definitely one of my comfort reads right now! this is a weird request, but maybe a pierre fic and the storyline being like you’re dating pierre but he and charles always joke that you and charlotte are dating because (naturally) you two are really close?

Warnings: slight mention of alcohol but nothing besides that.

Sidenote: I honestly didn’t expect to enjoy this one that much but i definitely did! I hope u guys will like it as well! (Please keep in mind that I don’t know much about Charlotte…)

Pierre had fallen asleep last night with you wrapped up in his arms and weirdly woke up the next morning to a cold, empty bed and an even emptier bedroom.

It was the F1 summer break, a time of the year you've come to impatiently anticipate since it granted you Pierre's constant presence for about a month. Through the years since the two of you started dating, it had somehow become a tradition to plan at least a brief vacation during that time with your boyfriend and Charles and Charlotte whose company you truly enjoyed. The four of you almost inevitably ended up on some tropical island or at least in some beachside cabin, swimming or tanning all day long then drinking and chatting the night away by a makeshift fireplace you'd build on the beach at night. During these days, you had experience invaluable love, true friendship and made the best memories of your life.

This year was no different.

The four of you, after long weeks of planning and days of packing, had rented a beautiful villa by the ocean that would grant Pierre and Charles some much-needed peace of mind. Through its beautifully designed backyard, it had access to a peaceful, calm beach with crystal clear water and melodic waves crashing on its shore.

The four of you had spent the last evening exchanging stories and memories there as the moon shone down on you and the stars twinkled in the clear night sky. Regardless of the fact that Pierre and Charles' stories seemed a little bit more interesting, they still listened so carefully to you and Charlotte's tales, making you feel as appreciated as you truly were. At some point, they were shocked as your stories progressively showed how much time the two of you spent together without them.

After that, each couple retreated into their room where you got the chance to spend some private time with Pierre, kissing and talking until sleep overcame you, hence why he was so shocked to wake up without you beside him. It didn't help that waking up to your arms hugging him was arguably his favorite part of being on vacation.

Pierre sat up in bed, a deep set frown of confusion painfully obvious on his face. The enchanting sound of waves nearby seemed to try to sing him back to sleep, his eyes threatening to close again as his thoughts swayed with the steady rhythm of the ocean. He felt himself slouch back against the pillows, groaning at how comfortable the bed was as his body desperately begged him to snooze off again.

In his half-asleep state, he reached for you to pull you to him but his arm hit the mattress once again.

He jolted awake, fully conscious this time, his mind just now registering the fact that you weren't in bed with him like he assumed you would be.

Muttering to himself im confusion, he forced his body out of bed, put on some shorts and headed out of the bedroom to search for you.

Much to his annoyance, he tripped on his shoes from yesterday on his way out, a complicated combination of french curse words effortlessly leaving his mouth as he pulled the door open, rubbing his sleepy eyes to see clearer.

Pierre struggled to walk properly, his brain wishing he was still wrapped up in the soft sheets instead of having to search the whole villa for you. He swayed as he walked the crisp white hallways, not noticing Charles leaving his and Charlotte's room, looking much more awake than his French friend. It took almost bumping into him for Pierre to notice his presence.

Charles took in Pierre appearance, hair all over the place, barefoot and only dressed in a pair of loose shorts.

"Tu resemble à un idiot." You look like an idiot. He smiled at Pierre with amusement.

"Ferme ta gueule, blaireau. Je n'trouve pas y/n." Shut up, asshole. I can't find y/n. Pierre, grumpy as hell in the morning, snapped at his friend.

"Bah je n'trouve pas Charlotte aussi mais je m'suis habillé avant d'quitter la chambre." Well, I can't find charlotte too, but I got dressed before leaving the room. Charles taunted him in a playful manner.

Pierre looked back at Charles, only now noticing that he was indeed dressed in his swim shorts and a tshirt. Hell, he even had his shoes on and his sunglasses hooked onto the collar of his shirt. Then, he acknowledged the monégasque's words. Charlotte being missing as well meant one thing: the two of you woke up way earlier than your respective boyfriends, got bored of waiting for them and therefore made your own plans. That wouldn't be the first time that happened.

"Ça signifie qu'elles sont ensemble quelque part." That means they're together somewhere. Pierre groaned, realizing his freak out session was unreasonable.

"Évidemment. Vas t'habiller et nous les chercherons ensemble. Je pense qu'elles sont deja à la plage."Of course. Go get dressed and we'll look for them together. I think they are already at the beach. Charles patted Pierre's back and left him alone in the the hallway.

Pierre sighed and went back to the room, already having a self-conducted debate on if he should wear his swim trunks or something else as he heard Charles rummage in the kitchen.

He closed the door and started digging through his suitcase, trying to put together a decent outfit that he won't sweat through. He ended up wearing a tank top and his swim shorts as he was already planning on taking a dip as soon as he figures out where the hell you were.

He put on his clothes and headed for the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and splashed cold water on his face, finally feeling himself wake up completely.

Now he understood why Charles had called him an idiot. His hair was looking rather messy in a unique way.

"Merde." Shit. He mumbled, running his damp hands through the strands to tame them. The process took way longer than usual, his locks absolutely refusing to cooperate.

"Pierre, dépêche toi. Je m'ennuie ici." Pierre, hurry up. I'm getting bored here. Charles' voice echoed through the hallways.

Pierre rushed to join his best friend in the living room, both of them heading out onto the vast beach stretched out in front of them.

It was still significantly early, so it was doubtful that you and Charlotte would already be in the water. The relaxing sound of crashing waves became clearer as Pierre and Charles walked, their eyes scanning the area for you and Charlotte.

They had walked for a more than a few minutes before Charles tapped Pierre's shoulder and pointed at a spot by a big rock, an umbrella and towels occupying it.

"Là bas." There. He gestured, their steps now more hurried.

Pierre instantly smiled when he spotted you, dressed only in a bikini, sunglasses on your eyes and a big straw hat on your head. You were sat next to Charlotte, chatting and giggling as you snacked on a bowl of strawberries. If it wasn't so early, cocktails or martinis would have probably been involved.

Pierre and Charles exchange a brief look that confirmed that they were feeling a bit left out, not in an annoyed way, more in an entertained kind of way. They loved seeing their girlfriends get along so well, they just hadn't been expecting the two of you to ditch them so often after you had gotten comfortable with each other.

"What a cute couple!" Pierre teasingly cooed once they were within hearing distance for the two of you.

You instantly looked up at the sound of his voice, your smile quickly mirroring his as you watched him cross the small remaining distance with Charles by his side.

Charlotte interrupted your brief admiration session by draping her arm over you shoulder.

"Right? Now if you'd back off..." She shrugged in suggestion.

Pierre shook his head with an entertained smirk as you leaned into Charlotte's touch, slyly smiling at your boyfriend before popping a strawberry into your mouth.

"Ouch." Charles' face furrowed with a pained look, his hand clutching his chest.

Charlotte burst out laughing at her boyfriend's dramatic behavior and got up to properly greet him, hugging him and giving him a brief kiss.

Meanwhile, Pierre took a seat beside you on the spread out towel, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you into him.

"Hi." You beamed at him, cheeks a bit blushed from the heat.

He reached over and removed the sunglasses off your face, giving you a soft smile before puckering up his lips and gesturing for you to go ahead and kiss him.

Chucking, you pressed your lips onto his in a small peck and pulled away. Pierre wasn't having that this morning, he needed a few more seconds of your lips against his own. He leaned in more, resuming the kiss but also making you lose your balance. You laughed into the kiss, propping yourself on your arms so you wouldn't fall back.

"Eh, watch out, mate. You don't want to upset the girlfriend over here." Charles' voice sounded from beside you, referring to Charlotte.

Pierre pulled away with a laugh, looking at his best friend, pointing to him to let him know that the joke was a good one.

"Yeah, you're right. We already interrupted their little breakfast date." Pierre joked back, glimpsing at you out of the corner of his eye to see if you had laughed at his joke.

Instead, you gave his shoulder a little shove.

"Oh please. As if they haven't had enough dates this vacation. I don't even know why we're here honestly." Charles, who now had Charlotte sat between his legs, carried on with the joke, much to Pierre's delight.

"Exactly. Next thing you know, they start sharing a room and throw us out."

Charles burst out laughing, joining in on Pierre's loud cackles as you and Charlotte exchanged entertained looks that you both thought would go unnoticed.

"Regarde, elles ont même des messages secrets et tout." Look, they've even got secret messages and everything. Pierre pointed at the exchange between you and his best friend's girlfriend.

"Oh, please. As if people online don't ship you two. There's a ship name even." You broke your silence, interrupting the two guys' laughter at an impressive speed.

"Wait, what?" Pierre asked so quickly, it made you chuckle.

"Oh yeah!" Charlotte leaped out of Charles' arms as excitement overtook her. "You two? Piarles." She gestured above her head as if the name had magically appeared in the air, then she reached over and high-fived you.

It was your turn to laugh now.

The two of you had exchanged links to some posts in the past, finding them rather entertaining, especially given how close Pierre and Charles actually were.

"Wait until we tell you about the fanfictions and-" You started telling a shocked Pierre, but he wasn't having it.

“Yeah, no…” He said, picked you up and sprinted into the nearby water. You threw your hat onto the sand and held onto his neck, laughing furiously while still hearing Charlotte's laugh until he dropped you into the warm water, dipping underwater himself right after you.

You held back the laughter until you broke the surface again, Pierre immediately pulling you to him and moving your legs to wrap around his waist, his lips immediately finding yours.

"I'm yours and you're mine. D'accord, ma chérie?" Okay, darling? He mumbled into the kiss.

"I don't know, babe. You and Charles..." You pulled away and said, shaking your head from side to side questioningly.

"Oh mon dieu!” Oh my god! Pierre groaned in annoyance.

He wrapped his arms tighter around you, his lips crashing against yours once again, giving you small successive pecks as the waves swayed the two of you.

"Yours, babe. Only yours." He spoke between kisses.

You sighed, smiling against his lips as you felt your heart fluttering. You loved the sound of that a bit too much.

"I know, chéri. I'm only yours too."

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly drabble #f1 imagine #f1 oneshots #f1 x reader #pierre gasly oneshots #pierre gasly imagines

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 years ago

Text

Like Waves in the Ocean

Summary: Jensen surprises Y/N...more than once.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Lots of smut. Fluff, mainly at the end. Unprotected sex, PinV, light fingering, slightly rough sex, semi-public sex.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Y/N

Word Count: 2,037

A/N: So, thanks to the video above that Jensen posted and the imaginings of @charred-angelwings, I absolutely HAD to write this Jensen fic.

This will also count towards my 30 Days Writing Challenge. This story will be for the prompt: Use the title, Like Waves on the Ocean. (It just seemed like too perfect a fit!)

For someone who hadn't written a RPF in my life, all this hot af Jensen content lately is sure smashing down that wall. Cause this is now the 3rd entry in this little Jensen x Reader saga. The first two are:

The Art of Creating Sex Hair Sexy Hair

2. Who's Blushing Now?

You don’t have to have read either of them, to read this one, but it might be more enjoyable. Plus who doesn’t love more Jensen smut! 🤤

As always, of course this story is about a Jensen from a different part of the multiverse, who is single. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @firefly-graphics

As you walked out to the beach you looked out at Jensen on the water in the distance. He sat comfortably on the paddle board you'd rented for the weekend. Easier than buying and then lugging a personal one from home.

Plus it would have been hard for Jensen to surprise you with this trip to St. Lucia if he was carting around paddle boards and oars.

After the Toronto shoot had ended two weeks ago, you'd lamented to him that you so badly wanted to get out of the city. Jensen had merely nodded and grunted his agreement.

So, it hadn't occurred to you for a second, that your complaint would prompt him to book the two of you into a five day stay at the Calabash Cove Resort and Spa!

Since Toronto, you hadn't had a chance to see each other. It had been almost a full two weeks and you missed him like crazy.

Phone sex and sex over shitty Skype calls was not the same as having his magical hands on your skin. Sure, the man was very skilled at dirty talk, and still managed to give you incredible orgasms by watching him stroke his big hand up and down his cock while he described, in excruciatingly hot detail, every little thing he was going to do to your body the next time you were together.

But it could never be as good as him actually doing those things to you.

So when you picked him up at the airport the day before yesterday, it wasn't that surprising to you that he just booked you into the hotel there for the night. The two of you had barely made it through the hotel room door before you were ripping each other's clothes off.

But it was incredibly surprising yesterday morning when he'd woken you up with kisses and then told you to get ready for a trip.

You'd laughed at him, confused. "Excuse me?" You'd asked, wiping sleep from your eyes.

"I know you have no jobs booked for the next week, so instead, I booked you a surprise. Don't bother packing because whatever you need, we'll just buy there."

"Where?" You were laughing as he pulled you out of bed.

"It's a surprise. Come on baby, just throw your toothbrush in a bag and let's go!"

Despite his assurances, you packed a carry-on bag with a couple t-shirts and shorts and basic toiletries.

It wasn't until you got to the airport that you discovered where you were headed. At least what city and country. Jensen refused to to tell you anything about what resort you were going to. So the grandeur and oppulence of the Calabash Resort had made you speechless.

You spent yesterday evening getting a couple's massage in your room and then straining your muscles all over again, making slow, gentle love, lulled into peace and sensuality by your oiled muscles and the rhythmic sound of the ocean approaching and retreating from the shoreline.

As you watched Jensen now, being rocked slowly by those same waves, it hit you that your relationship, newly defined as it was, was a lot like the ocean's waves.

It was constantly shifting; as you discovered new aspects of each other's character, you approached and retreated from each other, sometimes reaching forward, willing to risk your heart, sometimes pulling back, still unsure, still scared.

Everything was still and ebb and flow, changing and altering like the tides.

As those same waves pushed him closer to the shore, you found yourself breathing a little harder at the vision he made.

His skin was tanned and glistening in the sunshine. His muscular, solid body never failed to make your core clench. No matter how many times you saw his naked form, how many times you got to watch his biceps and triceps strain against something heavy, or how many times you watched his back muscles ripple beautifully under his skin, no matter what, your reaction was always the same.

He made you breathless, made your heart race, soaked your panties through, and left you in awe that you were allowed to touch him, allowed to beg him to touch you.

He was yours, and that still felt like a surreal miracle.

When he was close enough to the shore, he hopped off the board and waded his way towards you.

As he emerged from the water you swallowed hard at the way his swim trunks clung to him, sticking to his hard, thick thighs like a second skin. They also pulled tight against the bulge you could see at the front of the brightly colored shorts. His broad chest was gleaming with droplets of water, his hair damp.

He dropped the paddle board on the sand and walked straight to you. You opened your mouth to ask him a question and forgot it immediately as his mouth crashed down on yours, taking advantage of your open mouth to sweep his tongue inside.

You moaned into him as he sucked on your tongue. He gripped your ponytail in his fist, roughly pulling your head to the side so he could suck and bite at your skin as his sinful lips moved down your neck.

"Fuck, Y/N it should be illegal for someone to look that hot in a plain black, one piece bathing suit." He growled in your ear.

He pulled away suddenly, but kept hold of your hand. He tugged you along behind him as he entered one of the wide tents placed along this stretch of private beach for those staying at the resort.

They were meant to be used to change in and out of bathing suits. And although Jensen pulled the one piece you were wearing down to your waist the second you walked into the shaded spot, you were pretty sure he didn't plan on using the space for it's intended purposes.

He bent and fixed his lips around your nipple, sucking hard. The action shot currents of heat straight to your core and you gasped and pulled his hair.

He growled and sunk his teeth into your skin; you yanked harder on his hair, head thrown back, mouth open.

Cupping your ass, he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. Your arms encircled his neck and you licked the skin there, tasting salt - his sweat and the ocean waves. He was delicious and you couldn't help sliding your tongue across more of his bare skin.

He carried you over to the chaise lounger that had been provided inside the tent, and sat down. He leaned back against it, adjusting you so you were straddling him. He reached down, and pushed your bathing suit aside, swiping his blunt fingers through your slick.

He put his dripping fingers into his mouth, decadently licking your essence from the tips.

You moaned at the vision of his lush lips wrapped around his thick fingers, tongue swirling and sucking. You whined impatiently and ground yourself down against his cock; you could feel it through his shorts, pressing hard, warm and wet against your now bare pussy.

He popped his fingers out of his mouth and then folded his hands behind his head. He lifted his chin towards you.

"Well, pull it out, baby. It's all yours."

You moved your hands down to his trunks, reaching in and grasping his warm, throbbing cock.

Jensen's biceps flexed tight as he moved his hands behind his head to grip the back of the lounger, his fingers squeezing it hard as you stroked him.

"Fuck, Y/N! Yes, just like that. Take what you need baby!"

You needed no further encouragement to position yourself over him, ready to slide down and seat yourself fully on his lap. But you had to tease him a little, running the head of his cock slowly through your soaked folds.

His hips bucked up towards you and his expression promised that you would not get away with the teasing. Payback would be coming.

You panted at the thought and slid down his full length. Both of you moaned loudly as your cunt clenched around him.

You set a slow pace to start, knowing you'd tire out quickly in this position if you didn't pace yourself. Also it was an exquisite torture to feel every vein on his cock press into every single inch of your pussy. And the slower you went the more precisely you could feel them.

Jensen allowed you to be the driver for a while, throwing his head back and biting into his plush, pink bottom lip. You could see his stomach muscles straining as he fought the urge to drive into you.

But finally when he could take no more, he took over. With a guttural growl he sat up and wrapped his arm around your waist. He braced his other arm behind him. In this position he could slam into you, while simultaneously lifting you and then crashing you back onto his lap.

The sound of slick, hot, skin slapping together was obscene and loud in the small cotton tent.

You could feel you were both on the brink when Jensen brought his hand from behind him and circled his hard middle finger against your clit. You dug your fingernails into his shoulder blades, raking your nails down his sweaty back.

He growled harshly at the pleasure-pain you were causing him. He brought both hands to your hips, and then using his weight and momentum, he pushed you backwards on the chaise so that your head was hanging over the end. He continued to rail into you in this new position, all the blood rushing to your head and making you feel even more disoriented with pleasure.

He got to his knees and angled himself so that he was hitting your g-spot with every pass.

He held your hips in place above the chaise while he pistoned into you, shaking your whole body with the force of his thrusts.

Finally, with a deafening roar you felt him explode inside you, triggering your own climax to hit you, rolling over you and over you like waves in the ocean. Jensen fell heavily on top of you while your body continued to pulse from aftershocks.

As you both came back to reality, Jensen pulled out of you and climbed off of you.

"Shit, I'm sorry, darlin', I kinda crushed you there, didn't I? And you're gonna end up with a head rush." He said as he carefully helped you sit up.

"Mmm..nnooo." You mumbled as you waved away his concern. "That was incredible!"

You shifted so you were sitting his lap again and reached up for his mouth. Pulling him to you, you kissed him long and deep.

You pulled back to breathe and panted against his lips. "You are incredible."

You thought he might make a flippant or teasing remark about your praise of him, but instead he cupped your jaw and lowered his lips back to yours. But his kiss was all softness, gentle and languid, soft brushes of his mouth over yours, followed by the undemanding press of his lips.

He pulled back and pushed his hands through your hair.

"You're more than incredible, Y/N. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And maybe this is too soon, and maybe I'm gonna freak you out, but...I love you."

You stared at him, unblinking.

He ducked his head and looked away. "You don't have to say it back, I mean...I don't expect you to - oof!"

The rest of his sentence was cut short as you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and over-balancing the chaise, knocking it backwards.

He bore the brunt of the impact, with you landing completely on top of him. He was laughing though, as you smothered him with kisses.

He took hold of your cheeks and halted the onslaught. "I take it then, you didn't mind me saying it?"

"Um - no, Mr. Ackles, I definitely did not mind you saying it." You grinned at him. "Mind if I say it back?"

Jensen's smile was pure sunshine. "Well, if actions speak louder than words, I think the concussion you just gave me might be enough."

He kissed you hard and fast. "But you can say it anyway.

"I love you, Jensen."

The waves crashed loudly outside the humid tent, but as you leaned down to once again capture his plush lips with yours, you realized that you'd finally found your safe harbor.

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taetaespeaches · 2 years ago

Text

“This whole thing is getting less cute now, smart ass.”

jimin x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.9K

a/n: Hi lovelies! There’s a spider in the shower and reader/Dear leaves Jimin to deal with it- but gently and he can’t kill it. That’s all this fic is lol thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy :))

Leaving the note on the kitchen island, you knew it was a long shot that your boyfriend would even see it before you returned home from work. Jimin was on a brief break, which meant he spent much of the daylight in bed, his day beginning in the mid-afternoon.

There was a very big part of you that loved coming home to a sleeping Jimin, getting to wake him up and cuddle him into consciousness. You were actually quite surprised when you received a text from him at around 4 p.m. while you were making your way home for the day. Opening it, you found a photo of the note you left for him:

Hi angel! Good morning… no, afternoon? Whatever, hi! We have a little friend in the shower. Tiny. That’s her name, because she’s verrrrryyyy little. Tiny should not be harmed but she does put me slightly on edge so she needs a nice place to live outside. I know she’s taken up residency in the shower because yesterday I saw her in the left corner and today she was in the right corner. She’s an active babe, I must respect her grind. Be gentle with her! She’s my pal, but we need some boundaries. I mean, even Peaches doesn’t crawl into the shower with me, you know? Anyways, good luck and let me know how it goes. I love you!

The photo of the note was accompanied with a text that read: This is unbelievably cute, Dear… did you forget you’re scared of insects? Why not just have me kill it?

Smiling at your phone, you decided to respond in a smart ass way. Jimin should really know better than to set you up like that.

You: I didn’t forget, but Tiny is an arachnid.

Jimin: This whole thing is getting less cute now, smart ass.

Giggling at his text, you rolled your eyes slightly. Of course he still thought you were cute, the liar. Before you could respond, another photo came through, showing the spider in the right corner of the shower.

Jimin: Verrrryyyy tiny, jesus, how did you even spot that?

You: I told you!

The next few minutes went by without any correspondence, leaving you to wonder what your knight in shining armor was up to. Was he rummaging around the apartment trying to find some sort of device to remove it carefully without having to get too close? Suddenly you were regretting leaving him a note, wishing you could see him scramble around as he came up with a foolproof plan to deal with your petite friend.

And then your man came through, as a video appeared in your text conversation with the message: Tiny is surprisingly intimidating. Pressing play on the video, a smile instantly spread across your face as Jimin stepped away from the camera, having propped it up against something, and glanced up toward the ceiling where your new pal sat in the corner.

“Ok,” Jimin said with an exhale. “I found this cup,” he held up a big plastic cup. “And I have this piece of mail to hopefully scoot it into the cup and keep it in there as I transport.”

The man was way too amusing, Jimin already making you giggle as you watched him explain his plan.

“It’s just a tiny thing. Tiny,” he hyped himself up. “And it’s friendly! She befriended you, right?” he asked you through the camera. “You guys go way back! All the way to yesterday. We’re just creating a boundary,” he repeated what you wrote in your note.

Taking a big inhale, Jimin released it slowly before shaking his body out, physically removing his jitters. “Ok!” He said definitively, just before stepping up onto the edge of the tub so he was more eye level with the spider. “Hey, Tiny,” he started, nearly drawing a coo from you. “So here’s the deal.”

It sounded as though he was conducting some sort of intervention, trying to soften the blow of bad news. You gotta go, little one.

“My girlfriend, well, she’s quite fond of you, which is saying something because usually she’s pretty terrified of arachnids,” he shot a quick glare at the camera. “Smart ass,” he huffed, holding back a fond grin, making you chuckle in amusement. “But she just needs some privacy when she’s showering, you know? You get that, right?”

It was actually incredible how adorable the man could be, and at that exact moment, you walked by an older woman selling bouquets of flowers. Destiny, you thought as you veered off path toward the woman, pausing the video. Jimin deserved them.

With the bouquet in one hand, you started toward your apartment again as you resumed the video, returning to Jimin as he raised the cup toward Tiny. “We’ll find you a really nice place outside, ok?” He told the spider gently.

The actual removal went fairly smoothly, Jimin only squealing a couple times when Tiny attempted to crawl back up the string of web when Jimin believed he had been placed in the cup. A snort escaped you as he had a minor freak out, quickly knocking the web down using the envelope of unopened mail and covered the cup with it. Stepping down from the tub, it was almost as though Jimin was holding his breath as he approached the phone’s camera.

Looking into the lens for a moment, he gave a look of worry and doubt just before he carefully lifted the envelope to look inside the cup. “Ok, thank god,” he spoke through a relieved exhale. “Got her,” he then beamed at you as he reached for the camera. His smile was so stunning, god, you’d never get used to its effect on you. Jimin’s smile was like a ray of sunshine, warming your body from the inside out every time he graced you with its beauty and lovingness. “Ok, I’ll be right back.”

And with that, he ended the video. You quickly typed a message to him, wanting to compliment him on his efforts.

You: You’re literally the bravest most adorable human being on the planet.

Just as the message sent, another photo came through from Jimin. It showed some of the plants you had out on your balcony, with Tiny sitting on one of the leaves.

Jimin: New home! She can’t wait to give you a tour.

Pouting fondly at the message, you found yourself picking up pace as you neared your apartment building, much too excited to get to your boyfriend.

You: Again, the MOST adorable. I love you.

You practically sprinted into your complex, tapping your foot impatiently as the elevator took excessively long to reach your floor. Is this stupid thing always this slow? You wondered as you glanced down at the flowers that you couldn’t wait to gift your boyfriend. When you finally reached your door, you burst through it with a smile on your face as you made eye contact with Jimin in the kitchen, the cup covered in soapy suds in his hands as he washed it.

“I’m not going to lie to you, that freaked me out more than it should have,” Jimin immediately told you through his wide smile. His gaze dropped to the flowers that you held at your side, his eyes softening as his mouth fell into a slight pout.

“I didn’t think you’d have to hype yourself up that much,” you giggled, stepping closer to him.

“What are the flowers?” He asked, trying to hide the hope that was displayed in his eyes. Smiling widely at him, you quickly stepped toward him as he dried his hands on a towel. His gaze slowly lifted from the bouquet to meet your eyes just as you draped your arm over his shoulder. Beaming at him as you lifted the bouquet of white and orange flowers toward his chest.

“These,” you leaned forward, stealing a quick peck, pulling away before Jimin could really even respond, “are for you. My hero.”

“Oh my god,” Jimin’s smile widened into that stunning grin again. The one that warmed you up and made you feel loved. “This is unnecessary,” he bashfully told you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he held you just a bit closer, his eyes roaming over the colored petals.

“Nah uh, you’re not only my hero but Tiny’s too,” you told him softly. Jimin’s eyes found yours as he shook his head in disbelief. “Also, these reminded me of the color of your sparkly mic.”

“Thank you,” he chuckled breathily, pulling you into a hug so he could bury his face in your neck, hiding his shy expression. “I still don’t get why I couldn’t just kill it,” he mumbled against your skin, making you roll your eyes as you lightly hit the side of his body in protest.

“Just because I’m afraid of bugs doesn’t mean they deserve to die, Chim. My fear is a me problem,” you argued, Jimin breathily giggling against you before he pulled away to look at your face.

“You’re too sweet,” he smiled. Then his gaze fell to your lips, the man leaning toward you and placing his soft lips against yours, the meeting gentle. You pressed against him a little firmer, wanting to kiss him just a little bit harder. Wanting to ensure he felt your love and appreciation for him. When you separated, Jimin smiled cutely at you. “Wanna see Tiny’s new home?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed happily, Jimin taking the bouquet out of your grasp and setting it on the countertop before reaching for your hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours easily as he began leading you outside. “We’ll put those in a vase in a minute.”

“Why were you so scared anyway?” You asked teasingly, Jimin turning around to glare at you.

“I wasn’t scared,” he defended himself.

“But you weren’t exactly chill either, angel,” you pointed out with a smirk. “It’s ok to be scared,” you continued your teasing, playfully jabbing at him and his demeanor.

“I wasn’t scared!” He argued as he fought back a smile. “But I will admit that it’s a bit more unnerving to capture a spider alive than it is to just kill the fucking thing.”

“Don’t talk about Tiny like that,” you hushed him, placing your hand over his mouth as you shot a warning look toward the balcony. “She’ll hear you.”

An adorable giggle escaped Jimin’s plush lips as he shook his head at you. “She wasn’t even paying rent, Dear,” he smirked, finding his own joke to be quite hilarious, making you attempt to hold back your laugh but failing. And before you could make it outside, he wrapped you up in a hug and kissed you, passionately this time. “I’m so in love with you,” he mumbled against your lips, wanting to get the confession out but not wanting to feel the loss of your mouth on his.

You didn’t respond with words, but rather placed your hand against his chest, flattening your palm overtop his heart so you could feel its beat. And then you pulled him closer, both you and Jimin smiling into the kiss.

Tiny would have to wait for just a bit longer to show off her new home, because in that moment, you forgot about everything that wasn’t Jimin.

#jimin fluff #jimin x reader #jimin fic #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #jimin drabble #jimin oneshot #bts reactions #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fics #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts scenarios #bts drabbles #bts oneshots #jimin x oc #bts x oc

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

Omg hi so I read your babysitter fic and I was thinking what if bakuogus tired of reader being a brat with him so he brings Kiri over to help him out 🤤 srry im just being horny on anon rn

“C’mon princess, move your ass before I move it for you.”

You huffed at the blonde, opening the car door, stepping outside and slamming it shut. Bakugou shot you a harsh glare, but you weren’t looking at him, instead crouching to tie your shoe.

He gave you a moment to do that, before the man got impatient, clicking his tongue, shoving his hands in his pockets.��“Let’s go, it’s not like I have all fucking day.”

You knew for a fact that yes, he did have all day.

Your mom was away again, another business trip. She was working towards a promotion - a position that meant more hours, more work, more travel.

More time being spent with your stupid babysitter.

With your rapist.

He hadn’t touched you, not outright, since that day. Every time your mom suggested having him over for dinner, you conveniently found somewhere to be; out with friends, on a date, having a sleepover. Anything so that you didn’t have to look at Bakugou Katsuki’s stupid, smug little face.

But your mom had surprised you yesterday night, letting you know she’d be leaving in the morning, that Katsuki would be staying over again. There wasn’t any time for you to argue with her, to plead for her to stay, or to take you with her, or for you to stay at a friend’s house, anything but Katsuki.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to avoid him!” She had laughed, before wagging a finger at you. “Don’t be rude. He’s a nice man, and I trust him to keep you safe. He did last time!”

Yeah, and he also assaulted you last time, so maybe he wasn’t as nice of a guy as she thought.

He was taking you to the mall, not even really giving you a choice, just telling you to get dressed, that the two of you were going out.

Now here you were, trudging silently behind the older man, glaring at the ground.

“Bakubro! Over here!”

A loud shout drew your attention, Bakugou grinning as he started veering towards the shouter, a red-haired man waving enthusiastically. You followed behind him obediently, taking stock of this new man.

He was fucking huge, thick thighs bulging against his jeans, biceps straining against the fabric of his navy hoodie. This new guy was handsome too, a wide, sharp smile, soft red eyes, a clean-shaven face.

“’Sup Idiot? You tryin’ to attract the whole mall? Always so damn loud.” Even though he was complaining, it was clear that these two were friends as Bakugou let the other man pull him into a hug. They pounded each other on the back, before the redhead drew back, pushing past the blonde to give you his full attention.

“Who’s this? Did you get a girlfriend? She looks a little young bro.”

“I’m not his girlfriend.” You spat, and the redhead held up his hands in surrender as Bakugou shouldered him to the side.

“It’s the little fucker that I’m looking after as a favor. You know I work security for that office complex?” The redhead nodded. “Yeah, one of the milfs gave me free range of her house as long as I watch her.”

Both men looked at you, and the redhead smiled brightly.

“Ah, well, I’m Kirishima! Nice to meet you, sorry you have to put up with such a grumpy fucke-”

“Hey, shaddup.” Bakugou elbowed him, but Kirishima was already extending a hand for you to shake, and you did so gladly. At least you weren’t the only one who thought Bakugou was a grumpy, stuck up mess.

“’Kay, now can we go? I’m starving’, wanna eat before we do anything else.”

Kirishima winked at you as he threw an arm around your shoulders, his other arm around Bakugou. “Food court? I think they have a pretty good selection here...”

-----

Kirishima was much more tolerable than Bakugou.

He was funny, cracking jokes and making you almost spit out the soda he had bought you, slipping you five dollars behind Bakugou’s back for you to get a drink.

The redhead sat next to you while the three of you ate, including you in the conversation whenever Bakugou seemed to forget about your existence.

As the three of you walked from store-to-store, Kirishima listened to you ramble on about the latest game you’d bought, what you thought of your favorite snack brand trying to collaborate with a fashion company, all your opinions on the music playing faintly through the mall speakers.

It was fun when he grabbed your hand, tugging you away from Bakugou and along with the redhead as he ducked into a random store. It was some street-wear fashion place, and Kirishima wanted your thoughts on if a shirt was his color, or if he could pull off one of the hats that adorned the mannequin in the store window.

The two of you were busy laughing at how the hat couldn’t even press past his spiky hairstyle when you noticed Bakugou, glowering at you both from the outside of the store, lips pulled into the deepest frown.

Kirishima started laughing at the man’s expression, and you quickly followed suit, before Bakugou stalked inside, cuffing his friend on the ear.

What a spoil sport.

You couldn’t deny that by the end of the few hours you’d spent with Kirishima, you found yourself attracted to him. Not only in looks, but also in his goofy personality. You wouldn’t mind being friends with him.

It was easy to exchange numbers with the man, easy to let him lift your spirits.

And then it was time to leave, all three of you grouped at the entrance, saying bye, Bakugou and Kirishima giving each other another bro-hug.

You gave Kirishima a hug, leaning into his warm touch, enjoying his spicy cologne as you pressed your face against his broad chest. He eagerly returned the hug, until Bakugou was scoffing, pulling you out of his embrace.

“We’re in fucking public, you two, chill. Keep your pants on, sluts.”

Kirishima laughed, giving you a cheery wave as Bakugou gripped your hand until it hurt, dragging you out of the mall quickly.

-----

“Why are you being such a brat? You were fuckin’ fine earlier.” The blonde man grumbled, glancing over at you from where he was making dinner.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your water. “It’s not my fault you have a stick up your ass. All I said is I don’t like when you make food, tastes bad.”

Bakugou huffed, turning off the stove. “Are you fucking serious? You’re just trying to mess with me, aren’t’cha princess?”

“Could you stop calling me that? I’m not your princess.”

“You’re whatever I want you to be, princess.” Bakugou sneered, stomping towards you.

You quickly backpedalled, setting your glass of water down on the counter, stepping back. “I’m going to go set the table!” Was your way out, and Bakugou backed off as you threw open a cupboard, rummaging for plates and cups as he chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, you do that.”

It wasn’t long before the table was set, Bakugou bringing the food to set it down onto the hotplate in the middle.

Even just a whiff of the food had your eyes watering, the spice through the roof.

“Seriously dude? You know you’re cooking for two people, why the fuck did you make it inedible?!?”

The blonde man glared at you as he sat down, jaw working, mouth twisting. “You gonna be a bitch-baby about it? Should be fuckin’ grateful that I even made you dinner.”

“Thanks for dinner.” You mumbled, staring tiredly at the food Bakugou was heaping onto his plate. You didn’t feel like eating anymore, his outburst ruining your mood, reminding you of the time when he got angry because you wouldn’t go to bed, wouldn’t listen to him-

“Eat the damn food.” Katsuki snapped, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

You did as he asked, even though it burned your mouth. Dinner was quickly gulped down, followed by desperate swigs of water as you tried to chase away the spice. Bakugou huffing the entire time at your inability to handle the level of spice he preferred.

Afterwards, you gathered up the plates and washed them, conscious of Katsuki hovering in the background of the kitchen, watching you work while he tapped away on his phone.

When the last dish was washed, dried, and put away, you began rummaging in the cupboards, looking for something sweet, something to soothe your tastebuds.

“What’re you doin’, didn’t I just feed you?”

Bakugou’s harsh voice made you flinch, but you kept your back to him. “Was hoping there’d be dessert.”

A long, irritated sigh, then a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you away from the kitchen cupboards. “Ain’t got any of that shit in the house princess, you don’t need it.”

“But-” Your plead was interrupted by Bakugou rolling his eyes, snorting.

“Why are you being such a whiny baby? Is this cause Kiri was spoilin’ you earlier?”

Jutting your chin out, you glared up into red eyes as you turned around seething. “Maybe I like being treated like a person and not a problem. I don’t even understand why he’s friends with you - you’re mean and crass and stup-”

“So you’re just acting out cause you want some extra attention or some shit? What a brat.” The blonde sneered, leaning back against the counter as he tapped away at his phone again.

“You want Kiri so bad, fine. I’ll have him get you some shitty grocery-store dessert. Then maybe you’ll stop acting like a bitch. Stuff some candy in that mouth, will that keep you quiet, huh?”

It was infuriating, being treated like a child. Ignored, talked down to, unable to assert yourself or make decisions.

“Whatever.” You huffed, shaking your head as you walked out of the kitchen. “Anything’s better than having to sit here with you.”

-----

The front door opening and the faint rustle of grocery bags caught your ear as you fumed on the couch, angrily questioning “why me?” as to your situation. But the noise meant your new friend was here, and he was much nicer than Bakugou.

Nice enough to have you smiling a bit as you rose to your feet, padding into the dining room as you beelined to the soft murmur of two manly voices.

“Heyyy! Long time no see!” The redhead was dressed in a loose tank top and basketball shorts, shoes discarded somewhere in the hall.

You’d known he was muscular, but actually seeing his muscles without clothes in the way? You were stunned.

A bright blush encompassed your face when Bakugou snapped his fingers, narrowing his eyes at you. “Ay’, stupid! Focus! He got you a bunch of sweet shit. Rot your teeth out.” While gesturing to the two grocery bags resting on the dinner table.

“Hi Kirishima, thanks for the desserts-”

“Aw, it’s nothing. Bakubro wouldn’t tell me what kinda flavors you like so I kinda got a variety...”

Cupcakes and candy and various other sweet treats were nestled in the bags, and you grinned. “Dude, it’s all good. Wanna sit down and have some too?”

Bakugou snorted while Kiri smiled at you, nodding his head. The dining chair creaked as his weight settled in it, the redhead pushing the grocery bags towards where you sat, encouraging you to pick anything you wanted.

The two men began to talk about this and that, mundane things about work, odd jobs, what their plans for the weekend were, boring stuff you easily tuned out as you indulged in sweet desserts.

Their attention turned to you when a whine slipped from your lips as frosting fell rom the cupcake you were eating and onto your shirt. Before you reached for a napkin, Kiri was leaning over, invading your space.

“You’re kinda messy, aren't you?” He breathed, a single finger swiping through the frosting on your shirt before the redhead sucked it into his mouth, looking at you through his eyelashes.

“Oh-u-uhm...” Was your elegant reply, tummy filled with butterflies at the fact that his finger had pressed against your skin through your shirt, right underneath your breast.

He was so hot.

“Yeah, and a fuckin’ brat too. Little bitch can’t stop complaining about every little thing. Shut up the second I mentioned you were coming over.” Bakugou cackled, breaking the mood completely.

But Kirishima’s eyes were still on you as his now-clean finger slipped from his mouth. It was mesmerizing, watching the muscles in his arms shift and move as he leaned closer, slipping his hands underneath your shirt and raising the fabric so he could lick at the frosting still stuck on it.

Your breath stuttered, heat flaring suddenly in your tummy at the action.

And then Bakugou had to ruin it again.

“You can fuck her if you want, I don’t mind. I told the old bird I would watch her kid for her. Didn’t say nothin’ about not getting her drunk on some cock.”

Eyes squeezing shut, you opened your mouth for some snappy reply, but Kirishima beat you to speaking.

“Yeah? Alright. You good with that baby?”

Wait, good with-?

Kirishima was looking up at you expectantly, fingers still clutched in your shirt, refusing to touch your skin. He was hot. This was hot. It’d be perfect if Bakugou wasn’t here.

“C’mon, just fuck her man, she’s been gaggin’ for your dick since she met you. Stop being a loser and man up.”

The redhead in front of you smiled, sharp teeth on display and gleaming.

Then your shirt was being pulled over your head, hands gripping at your chest, thumbing over your nipples through your bra.

“W-wai-Kiri! Uhm, can’t we- uhm-”

Your voice was ignored, the redhead’s eyes glued to your chest as he pulled down your bra a bit, until he could palm each breast without anything in-between his warm hands and your soft skin.

“You’re so pretty...”

“She’s a whore.” Bakugou snarked.

Hands migrated to your waist, and you were easily lifted onto the table, Kirishima rising from his seat so he could push at your shoulders until they met the solid wood. Bakugou stayed seated, casually notching his hands behind his head and leaning back as he watched the show unfold before him.

Things were happening so fast, you didn’t know what to say, couldn’t move your hands to push away the broad redhead. This was so confusing. Yes, you wanted him, but you didn’t want Bakugou watching. You didn’t want to do this on the dining room table, didn’t like the quick turn the night had taken.

Your pants were being pulled down before you could organize your thoughts, before you could do much else aside from whimper and press your legs together.

“Hah, cute panties. You always wear stuff like this?” Kirishima asked, sliding a thumb underneath the elastic waistband only so he could snap it against your skin. You gasped at the little sting, unsure what to say, what to do.

“Most of her stuff is stupid girly shit like that, so yes.”

You tried to throw a glare Bakugou’s way, but with the blonde somewhere behind you sitting at the table, you couldn’t turn your head far enough.

Especially not when you were distracted by Kirishima pushing down the waistband of his shorts.

“I’m so glad I didn’t wear jeans.” He chuckled, holding his cock at the base as he sat back down again, scooting his chair up to edge of the table where your legs were splayed wide.

“Okay pretty, try and stay still for me. Make as much noise as you wanna, Bakugou and I don’t mind.” And then a warm mouth was pressed up against your cunt, licking at you over your panties, dragging the rough cotton against your most sensitive parts.

“Oh! o-oh, oh-oh-” Was all you could make your mouth manage as the redhead gripped your thighs in his giant hands, pushing them apart and allowing his massive shoulders to fit between them as he bent to lick at your pussy.

It felt... It felt so good, building up pressure in your stomach as your hole clenched around nothing.

Then Kiri did something awful, pulling your panties to the side and nosing into your folds with a pleased grunt. His skin was so warm, and you were so wet, and his nose started bumping against your clit as the man sloppily mouthed at you, and you couldn’t-couldn’t

“Stop-stop! ‘m gonna cum!” You wailed, legs twitching.

Immediately Kirishima drew back, soothing circles getting rubbed into your calves by thick fingers. “You don’t wanna cum in my mouth? Wanna cum on my cock instead? That’s cute.”

He stood up, and you barely got a glimpse of his dick bobbing against his stomach before he was leaning forward and catching your lips in a kiss. It almost scared you, sharp teeth poking menacingly against your lips, dragging across your skin as Kirishima moved his mouth against yours, but the redhead knew how to work with his teeth.

“Man, she really is a slut for you.” Bakugou piped up from behind you. He was a bit breathless, voice scratcher, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when Kirishima was pulling away with a groan, one of his hands fisting his cock.

The redhead gathered the spit in his mouth, leaned down, and let it drip onto your cunt, panties still pushed to the side. It was burning hot, adding to the fire in your tummy, blazing higher and higher.

Heavy breathing and labored panting filled the room as Kirishima edged closer to you, laying his cock flat against your entrance, playing with your panties as he did so until they pressed against his cock as it nestled between the lips of your cunt.

And then he started grinding.

Slow, delicious, absolutely heavenly.

You almost didn’t care about the disgusting little groans coming from Bakugou, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist, the creak of his chair behind you.

Almost.

Your attention was more focused on the pleasurable little zings going up your spine as Kiri rubbed his cock through your folds, all slick and wet. You kept your legs spread wide for him, barely able to breathe at the heat that seemed to fill the space, fill your lungs and steal your voice.

Kiri leaned down to kiss you again, and your hands fisted into his tank top, the material sweaty as it clung to his chest. If you could focus, you’d be trying to pull it off him, see the beautiful skin underneath, the man’s gorgeous body.

But what he was doing with his hips felt so good, you couldn’t even think.

“Kiri-Kiri, gonna-ohmygod-gonna-!”

And you came, shuddering as his cock kept fucking back and forth through your folds, twitching against your clit, veins in his dick pulsing and dragging against your skin.

He wasn’t stopping.

“Unhh, I came, please, wait Kirishima-”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to cum on my cock baby? I’m barely getting warmed up.” A feral smile gleamed bright from his lips. “I don’t play like Bakugou, I like messy girls. Gonna get you so fucked out you can’t even speak, can’t even walk. Won’t give him any trouble then, right? You’ll be good? For us?”

The look in his eye told you that you weren’t going to get a choice.

“Fuck Kiri, turn her over when you fuck her cunt so I can use her mouth.” Bakugou’s voice cut in, and your mood soured even more.

But Kirishima was already agreeing, cock still thrusting against your cunt.

You didn’t get to make decisions anymore.

#kirishima #bakugou #yandere #bully bakugou #tw.noncon #tw.dubcon #tw.dark content #Yandere BNHA #Yandere kirishima #dark kirishima #dark bakugou

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fireflykaizoku · 3 years ago

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Heya! I know you’ve done 3 soulmate fics now, but with the sort of angsty feel with Mimi-ya’s request I was wondering if a Katakuri x reader, in regards to the age difference he had given up hope that it was even possible for him to have happiness outside of his family, would make for a good read and also possibly dangerous for reader to come face to face with Big Mom and all those siblings! Thank you x

Hii! i'm sorry i took long to finish it, but i kept watching OP and reading more about Katakuri, since it's my first time writing for him. Since i'm still on episode 850, i was afraid it'd be a bit ooc. If it is, i'm so sorry! my writing for Katakuri will improve as i finish the arc. I hope you like it anyway, it was fun to write it ❤

Your family was rich and well-known around the Grand Line. Being the only daughter, they were trying to find a husband for you, a political marriage that could be good for both families, especially yours. They had a list of potential husbands, but you didn’t bother checking it since you were too focused on your birthday party. It was a small party, just with close friends and family, but you wanted everything to be perfect.

And it was. You had so much fun around people you loved, it was hard to fall asleep after that; you were genuinely happy.

Before opening your eyes, you could already feel the sweet smell, something like candy, donuts or cake. Thinking it was maybe a belated birthday breakfast, you opened your eyes and was ready to jump out of the bed when you realized the bedroom was completely different from yours. And as soon as you looked down, you realized that body definitely wasn’t yours. The toned chest, tattoos and the scarf around your neck weren’t yours.

You could only feel happiness and relief, you were glad you already switched bodies with your soulmate. Who knew it’d be that fast? But you wanted to see more of him, so you got up and started looking for a mirror in his room. The reflection surprised you at first, not being the kind of soulmate you expected to have. He had tattoos, crimson hair, and apparently was very tall. In fact, he was huge. When you put the scarf down a little, you noticed he had scars, and you assumed that’s why he covered his mouth. He also had fangs, which you thought were extremely charming. He wasn’t ugly, in fact, he was far from that. He was very handsome. Intimidating, of course. But very handsome.

Looking around, you found a vest, and on the back, you noticed “Charlotte” written on it.

— Charlotte? — you whispered to yourself, thinking you’ve seen that name somewhere until you finally realized after a couple of minutes.

— He’s one of Big Mom’s son!

You remember when your parents were trying to find a husband for you, his name came up a couple of times. It was probably Charlotte Katakuri. You’ve never seen any pictures of him, but you knew he was a very strong and powerful man.

After a couple of minutes just looking at his figure in the mirror, admiring his traits, a knock on the door brought you back to reality.

— Katakuri-sama, it’s almost time for Big Mom’s tea party. — someone said, outside the room before leaving right away.

You heard about the famous Tea Parties, but you didn’t even know how to behave. You knew there would be so many people, powerful people, and some probably well known as well, so you couldn’t take the risk of things going wrong.

You couldn’t describe the relief you felt when you noticed a den den mushi in the corner of the room. Perfect! You’d call him, explain everything and hopefully he’d be there just in time for the party.

It took a couple of minutes, but finally someone answered. You got quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say.

— Charlotte Katakuri? — you asked, a bit nervous.

— It’s me. I assume you’re (L/N) (F/N)? — you hummed in response. — I see you’re my soulmate and we switched bodies.

— Yes, and you have a Tea Party to attend today. Do you think we can switch back before then?

— Unfortunately, no. Your island is quite far from the Whole Cake Island. Can you go instead? You’ll just have to sit without saying anything. It won’t last too long, and when it’s over you go straight to your room.

— But what if… I need to fight? I don’t know how to… — he interrupted you.

— Don’t worry, it shouldn’t have an attack. But if anything happens, look for Brûlée and explain everything. I’ll be there before the sunrise, and we’ll be able to switch back, hopefully.

He seemed so calm even in a situation like this. But following his advice, you went to the party. It was fun and there was delicious food everywhere, but you couldn’t disrespect your soulmate and remove the scarf off. Maybe when you switch back you can ask Katakuri to let you eat a few.

You started sweating whenever Big Mom or any of his kids got near you, trying to talk. So to avoid raising any suspicions, you just nodded the whole time. And whenever you heard a fuss, your soul felt like it’d leave your body, worried it’d be a confront. If you had to fight today, acting like Katakuri, you wouldn’t know what to do.

You were hungry, but too shy to ask for anything. As if someone heard your thoughts, a few small men knocked on your door, bringing donuts. Not just two or three, but many donuts. They bowed and left quickly.

After eating half of it, you fell asleep. You were very anxious since you’d meet your soulmate in a few hours, but your eyelids got heavier and you couldn’t fight the sleep anymore. You woke up a few hours later with someone gently tapping your arm. When you opened your eyes, you realized Katakuri had arrived.

You were still sleepy, and sat on the bed, rubbing your eyes until you actually felt awake. The height difference was quite a lot, and it was funny. You had to sit on the floor so the two of you would be face to face.

— Hello, Katakuri. — you felt incredibly shy now.

— Good morning. — he tried to hide the fact he was embarrassed, and was hoping you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.

— This… Is it the time when we kiss?— you suggested, looking away. Would he think you were being too straightforward?

— Yes… We should… Kiss.

You pulled the scarf down slowly with your now cold hands. You closed your eyes, feeling very nervous. You kissed a few times before, but it still felt like something new. Especially now that it wasn’t just a random person, it was your soulmate.

Noticing you were waiting for him to make a move, he moved closer, sealing your lips together. Just a peck at first, until you gave him permission to deepen the kiss. Both of you were shy, and the kiss was a bit clumsy. Maybe he haven’t had many kisses too.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to realize you two had switched back, his big and strong hands holding your face was a sign that it worked. You rested your head on his hand, looking at him with eyes full of admiration and a soft smile on your lips.

— Aren’t you… Scared or disgusted? — he asked, feeling insecure now that his face was exposed to you.

— Why would I be? — you genuinely asked, smiling softly.

— Because… Of my mouth. I’m not how you probably wanted your soulmate to look like, and I don’t want you to think you have to put up with me because we’re soulmates. Now that we switched back, you can go if you want to. — his voice didn’t seem angry, as if he was demanding you to leave. It sounded sad, as if he had been through a lot.

You heart ached just to think that someone had the courage to hurt your soulmate.

Little did you know that many people treated him differently, not wanting to be around him or making fun of him because of his appearance; little did you know that while most of his siblings found their soulmates already, and he spent most of his life thinking he didn’t deserve his other half. Little did you know that he gave up on finding someone and started to deal with the fact that only his family would be able to love him.

But now, after meeting you, he threw his rational self out of the window. He felt like he could love someone; marry someone for a reason other than just a political marriage. But would you want him just like he wants you?

— We switched back, right? — you caressed his face softly. He wasn’t expecting it, no one has ever been this gentle with him before. — That means we’re in love.

— I don’t want you to be with someone like me, you’d only be in danger. — he turned his face not to see you. — You wouldn’t be able to deal with my siblings. It won’t be like playing house, and it won’t be like the marriage you might be expecting.

You got quiet, taking a deep breath. He wouldn’t push you away easily. Katakuri noticed your silence, and was expecting you to leave the room, agreeing that life with him wouldn’t be the perfect calm life you probably wanted. Instead, before he could even use his haki to have a glimpse of the future, you turned his face and pecked his lips.

— I won’t give up so easily. — you crossed your arms. — You’re my soulmate and I won’t leave you just because you think I can’t deal with a dangerous lifestyle. I want you, and if you want me too… We can make this work.

Looking at your face that was looking at him with love in your eyes, how could he say “no”? Maybe Big Mom would be willing to accept this relationship and give her blessing, and his siblings would be happy for him. He could even pretend it was all because of your family and their power at first.

His stomach started growling before he could say anything.

— I’m sorry, I only ate a few donuts while I was in your body. — you felt a little embarrassed about what you were about to ask. — But I wanted to eat some of the sweets yesterday. Do you think… — he didn’t let you finish the question.

— You can have the sweets, I’ll ask to get them delivered for breakfast. — he covered his face with the scarf again. — For now, you should sleep. We’ll have a long day meeting my family tomorrow.

#charlotte katakuri #katakuri x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenario

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groundcontrol21 · 2 years ago

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Sicktember #27

Prompt #27: Sleepless Night/s

Fandom: Three Musketeers

Title: Survivor’s Guilt

Summary: In the wake of the massacre at Savoy, Aramis’s obsession with medicine and health adversely affects his own.

Notes/CW: This is firmly in the show-verse, as Savoy is not a thing in the books. CW for psychological effects of war and trauma (there are some happy things in the fic though I promise).

It had likely been around a month since he had been given clearance to rise from his bed and start taking little walks around the garrison, but in all honesty Aramis did not hold much to the passage of time anymore. He had been too half-dead for Easter Mass, and he had not been to a Mass since. He knew it was sometime in summer, likely late summer by the heat of the air and the slant of the sunlight, but he feared to see how deep in the liturgical year his waking nightmare had carried him, and so he abstained, sometimes praying privately in his room as the church bells echoed their melody outside. But just as often he did nothing.

What had begun to take the place of prayer, though, in regularity and vigor, was Aramis’s study of medicine. In his days at the seminary, the treatises of anatomy and the humors in the library would occasionally catch his eye when the day’s work of translations and dialectics were finished, but now, Aramis hunted for them with the voracity of a predator. Upon taking his morning turn around the garrison gardens, he would hail a boy from the streets, press a few coins into his palm, and tell him to scour the apothecaries for the thickest tome he could manage. At first, he would accept whatever the day’s messenger could find, but soon he entreated the boy to press for recommendations, to seek out the apothecaries with the latest knowledge from Florence, from Geneva.

Within a month, Aramis had spent his meager savings on books and supplies to practice his poultices and stitchings. The pittance he received as sick pay barely paid for the ink with which he scribbled his notes in the margins, and so it was a gratitude when he was finally cleared to return to light duty and could resume receiving his normal pay. Even with this increase in income, though, in order to keep buying the newest knowledge the physical sciences had to offer, he knew he would need to choose between the books and the laudanum the physician had prescribed for the headaches his injury had caused. Aramis chose the books, as he would every time, because they would help him be prepared. If, God forbid, there was ever another Savoy, he would be prepared. He would be able to heal them better, heal himself better, do anything better, so that twenty of his brothers would not die again in the snow.

For the past week or so, Aramis had been cleared for light duty, and so the rhythm of his days consisted of whatever chores Treville set him, his walk and rendezvous with his bookboy, and then all the study and practice he could muster. Yesterday, he had managed to steal a bit of pig skin from the kitchens, and so he had practiced his sutures over and over into the wee hours of morning until he was sure he could do them blindfolded.

Tonight, Aramis tested himself, seeing if he could recreate a drawing of the muscles and bones and where they attached before he continued his reading. He was a bit cold and then a bit warm, and so he alternated tugging a blanket on and off his shoulders, and rubbing at his aching head and turning pages with the other. He was awake until the sky turned misty pink with dawn and the birds began to twitter, at which point he must have dozed off a bit at his desk. But he must not have dozed for long, for he woke feeling wholly unrested and the quality of the sunlight not much changed besides.

“Heh’eshhh!” He turned sluggishly, barely in time to catch his nose in the blanket at his shoulder, and blinked away sleepless tears.

The sneeze and the scratchy soreness it left behind in his throat did little to convince him he wasn’t catching cold on top of it all. But if it meant that his brothers would be safe and sound, that never again would Aramis find himself too helpless amongst the wounded to save even one life, he would take a lifetime of colds and sleepless nights.

It would soon be time for morning muster, and indeed, he expected today Treville would release him to the practice grounds on account of needing all hands to train the new recruits. The thought gratified him; that way he could show Treville there was a point to having him around still, a reason he alone had been saved in the forest. But in the meantime, he could manage another chapter of Exercitatio Anatomica de Motu Cordis before he had to dress for the day.

**********

Porthos caught Aramis by the arm as the man trudged miserably toward the armory after muster. He had been a bit surprised at first to see Aramis heading that way, having heard Treville say that, barring a relapse, he would begin easing Aramis back into a full duty rotation after a week of light tasks, and it had been a week and a day. But Aramis was wheezing and listing to the side, and Porthos hated even to think it for all the man had been through, but he had seen dead men who looked more alive than Aramis did at the moment.

“Captain Treville seems to think I am little more than a maid,” Aramis said, and surely his voice had to hurt him as much as it hurt Porthos to listen to.

Porthos stayed his grip on Aramis’s arm, afraid of what might happen if he let go. “Give it a few more days, and I’m sure he’ll give you the all-clear.”

“It’s been long enough, Porthos. I can stand a bit of target practice.”

“Aramis,” Porthos said quietly, heaving a sigh, not wanting a row but also loathe to listen to the man he considered a friend wallow in such self-contempt. “You’ve been through–”

“I’m not made of glass!” Aramis snapped hoarsely, descending into a fit of coughs. He tugged himself free of Porthos, folding into his sleeve. “Ehh’KSSSHH’uhh! Heh’KSSHH!”

“You do sound a bit sick though.” Porthos frowned, changing tactics to chance the bit of sympathy Aramis might give himself into. He reached to give Aramis a brotherly pat on the shoulder, but the man ducked away. “Maybe it’s for the best. At the very least, there’s no one you can infect in the armory.”

Porthos had meant to get him joking, but Aramis merely stared at him blankly with those watery, sunken eyes, before shaking his head and taking off in the other direction. He had been doing that a lot of late. Porthos got the feeling that he had made some grave mistake, but he worried it would be even more grave if he chased Aramis down, so he just stood there, helplessness lapping at his ankles like a hungry dog. He’d been doing that a lot of late, as well.

*********

As he passed, Athos heard a noise from inside the armory, and paused to poke his head through the door. Aramis sat at a stool in the corner, leaning sideways against the wall as if it were the only thing in the world keeping him from landing in a heap on the floor. His hands moved so lethargically along the barrel of a musket as he swiped a cloth back and forth to clean it that Athos watched, certain that the next time he would fall asleep mid wipe, no the next. But he continued doggedly, foolishly, his eyelids, blackened and puffed with sleeplessness, drooping but never shutting.

There was the sound again, and Athos saw now that it had come from Aramis; a wet, soupy sniffle that advertised thick congestion. Sure enough, Aramis folded forward with an explosive sneeze, and it was the most vitality Athos had seen from the man in ages. “HRSHHHOOO!” Aramis rubbed his nose on his sleeve and caught a few terrible, barking coughs against it before returning to cleaning the musket.

Athos weighed his options. He could continue on with his day, buy a few bottles now while he had a spare moment to ensure he was well stocked tonight; after all, he was there when Treville had assigned Aramis to this very duty. But the man was very clearly not up for it now, and much as it was against Athos’s sworn code of conduct after all that had happened, he was beginning to worry about the Musketeer called Aramis. In the long term. His headcold, bah, a few days of rest and the man would be fine. But Savoy… Athos had joined the regiment scarcely a week before the deployment, had gone to Palm Sunday Mass with a hangover at Aramis’s behest. The man had a charm, Athos remembered thinking, the sort of charm that could get him killed if he wasn’t careful, but then he’d come back alive and silent and no one else had, and Athos wasn’t quite sure if he’d been right or wrong in his thinking.

Aramis coughed again, and murmured something that sounded like ow, and that pulled Athos back to the present and made up his mind. He went to the mess hall and grabbed Porthos, knowing that the two of them were closest, and marched the large man to the armory without saying a word. Athos nudged his shoulder, and they both peered inside. Aramis hadn’t shifted position, still slumped, still wheezing, and by the looks of it, still cleaning the same musket.

“Look at him,” Porthos grumbled.” Looks like the walking…” Porthos trailed off, swallowing uncomfortably, but Athos knew both what he had almost said and why he hadn’t wanted to say it about Aramis. “It’s bad,” Porthos said instead. “Like permanent charcoal beneath his eyes.”

“HETSHHHH!”

Aramis fumbled the musket, blinking dazedly.

“He’s sick, too.”

Athos snorted drily. “What gave you that impression?”

Porthos shook his head, and the sorrow in his eyes was so heavy, so genuine, that Athos felt guilty for his previous quip. “He’s been through so much. Treville keeps saying we need to give him space…”

“Yes, well I’m starting to think space is the last thing he needs right now.”

Porthos looked him in the eye, and something warm pulled at Athos’s stomach, the likes of which he had not felt in a long, long while. It was warmer than the burn of any wine, and infinitely more pleasant. “Me, too,” Porthos said, and clapped Athos on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

#poor poor ara/mis #as if he doesn't go through enough #my answer to how he became the de facto field medic in the show #snzfic #the world needs so much more historic snz fic #sick ara/mis #my writing #sicktember 2022 #sicktember day 27 #more muskie snz!!!

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linasofia · 3 years ago

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Naughty Thoughts

Part 4

Summary: You wake up in Richard's bed, hungry for more than breakfast. Neither of you seems to be willing to talk about feelings and time is running out. Will you drive back home leaving naughty thoughts behind?

Relationship: Richard Armitage x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is the last part of this story. You can read the previous parts here. Naughty Thoughts is my first attempt to write a fic.

Words: 3,9K

Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, light bondage, unprotected intercourse

Some people wake up to their children calling for them, or dogs barking. Others are pulled from their sleep by the alarm clock or all the noises of a busy town. But some of us are really lucky. We wake up when we are well rested and are greeted with the most lovely noises, made by the person sleeping next to us.

The comforting warmth of Richard's body is the first thing I feel when my senses slowly drift from dream to reality. He is still here. No sounds can be heard except the ones made by him or me. I listen to his breathing, steady and deep, and find myself mimicking his pace. Yesterday, a day forever engraved in my heart, we burned as one and now we breathe as one. But he is not aware of this small intimate act, it’s only for me.

I open my eyes slowly. It must be early morning. The light that falls from the window looks pale and fragile, the sun has not graced us with colorful skies today.

In the dim morning light I rest my eyes on Richard's sleeping body. He’s lying on his back with his handsome face turned towards me. The dark hair is in great contrast to the white linen sheets and his beard appears to be even fuller. My skin tingles at the memory of his beard against my heated flesh and just a glimpse of those talented lips sends a myriad of memories through my body. He has pulled one of his strong arms under his pillow and now rests his head against it in what looks like a peaceful sleep. His chest is heaving slowly and I have to restrain myself from reaching out and touching him. Not yet.

Slowly, afraid I might wake him, I shift on the bed. The need to map his body burns in my chest. I know my time close to him is limited, uncertain even. A small knot of insecurity makes its way inside my heart, like an unwelcome visitor from the past I try so hard to move on from. I just met the guy yesterday. And still, the day was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before. For once I let my guard down and allowed him to rip down the wall that I spent years building around my heart. He did it effortlessly, simply because I let him.

But what was it to him?

With a steady hand I push those thoughts away. There will be a time for brooding, I’m sure, but this is not the time nor place.

My gaze glides over Richard's collarbone where I placed sweet kisses and found comfort when he held me in a tight embrace, over his magnificent chest, no doubt sculpted in the barn, and down his abdomen where his inviting trail of hair is abruptly cut off by the bed sheet. My inner fire flicks, filled with hope, and casts a longing heat over my skin as my eyes travel over the bed sheet, knowing what rests underneath. Even when sleeping, he holds great power over me.

Naughtiness and pure want fills my body and I reach out my hand and gently pull the sheet off him. He stirs in his sleep, but remains sleeping and I smile to myself. His member slumbers against his skin and I can’t stop looking at it. Even now, its blissfully large size is very much noticeable.

As carefully as I can, I pull myself up and then glide down a little closer to his thighs, giving myself more room for what I have in mind. There is no way I can resist this beautiful man next to me any longer. The sound of my own breathing echoes in my ears as I lean down.

I kiss the sensitive skin on his shaft and lick a trail from the base to the top. My tongue slides over the head and I feel him twist. I part my lips and welcome him inside. The beast is awake and so is his master.

“Y/N,” he murmurs. “What a lovely way to say good morning.”

I lift my head to greet him. His azure blue eyes, deep as a well, rest on me. I close my hand around him, stroking him slowly. I can almost feel the blood pumping in his veins and the fast swelling under my touch tells me he craves me too.

He tucks the other pillow under his head as well and when I return my mouth to his full length he lets out a satisfied growl. A small chuckle slips from my lips. Someone is eager to watch. He tastes divine, and his musky scent fills me to the brim with desire. I look at him, drink in his beauty and just like a strong liquor it goes directly to my head. His eyes are burning with desire and the flames lick my skin. It doesn't take long before I feel his hands in my hair, making a disaster of what already is a mess. He twirls it with his fingers and the moans and raspy curses he makes causes the heat to pool inside me.

“Keep your hands to yourself, or I’ll tie you up.” I playfully joke and place a wet kiss on the soft hair covering his groin.

I can feel him stiffen, and for a second I wonder if I did or said something wrong.

Two strong hands grab my upper arms and I’m abruptly pulled up towards him. His sudden movement surprises me and I can’t prevent the yelp from escaping my mouth. Our lips crash together in a kiss that is hard and raw and makes my lips burn against his skin. His tongue claims mine with such intensity it makes my head spin. I moan longingly into his mouth and I feel how his grip tightens. Then he breaks the kiss and pulls my lower lip with his teeth.

”You like it a little rough, don’t you? I should have known, I saw the firestorm in your eyes yesterday when I pinned you down.”

”Yes I do,” I confess, panting, and a breeze of shyness caresses my face while my heart is beating fast, like the wings of a hummingbird.

He holds my gaze steadily, and something new sparks in his eyes, something challenging and alluring. And possibly even a little dangerous. He leans in like he is going to assault my mouth again, but stops just before his lips meet mine. His warm breath fans the skin on my face, and his voice is hoarse and filled with promises.

”I like it rough too. But sweetheart, you’ll never get a chance to tie me up. Quite the opposite. Ask, and I will give you anything you want. Anything you need.” He emphasizes the word need in a way that makes my whole body ache for him.

I never get a chance to answer him, before he rolls over, effectively taking me with him in the movement, placing me on my back and capturing me under his hard body. He watches me closely, searching my face intensely. Then he places a trail of kisses from my chin, down my neck and up to my ear. His voice is now only a raspy whisper.

”Tell me Y/N,” he gives my neck a little bite. ”Tell me what you like. What do you want me to do to you?”

”Oh God, Richard,” I pant as it’s the only thing I can muster.

”What do you need?” He purrs in my ear, and the sound of his voice alone takes me right to the edge of the cliff, my body longing to dive into the sea of pleasure.

”I need…you.”

”That’s a good start, I’m right here,” he breathes against my skin.

”You need to be more precise, sweetheart.”

His thumb brushes over my lower lip, and the intimacy of the small act makes me tremble. Then he catches my wrists with his hands and holds me down, firm against the mattress. His mouth finds mine again and with my swollen lips I kiss him back, feverishly.

I want to dig my fingers in his hair, touch his neck and feel his strong shoulders under my fingertips. But his large hands prevent me from doing so, and when I twist in his grip, I can feel him smiling against my lips. My frustrated moan mixes with a dark chuckle erupting from Richard's throat. He abandons my lips, and looks me straight in the eyes.

”Is this what you want, Y/N? To feel restrained? Just tell me…” his voice fades when I eagerly nod. He watches me closely and the blood is singing in my veins. ”Say it. I want to hear you say it.”

”I want you to… tie me up.”

When he leans in, his lips brush against my ear, his voice is noticeably softer.

”I would love to. I mean to please you, Y/N.” He places his lips on my chin in a brief sweet kiss.

”Stay here,” he whispers with a voice sweet like honey, and dark as the midnight sky.

The mattress shifts as he moves over and stands beside the bed. Then he takes a few hasty steps, picks up his jeans that were so carelessly left on the floor yesterday and with a smooth movement he pulls the black leather belt from them. He walks slowly back towards the bed, not breaking eye contact. The sight of his naked and visually aroused body makes my mouth go dry and I realise I’m holding my breath. When he puts one of his knees next to me I take a deep breath, and he caresses my face with the backs of his long fingers.

”Are you sure about this?” He asks firmly and I see my own feelings reflected in his eyes. Same heat, anticipation and excitement.

”Yes, very.”

A pleased smile erupts in the corners of his mouth and travels all the way to his lovely blue eyes where it glitters like small stars on a winter night. He catches my wrists in his hand and slowly wraps his belt around them and secures his work by pulling the belt between my hands. Then he gently pulls them close to the headboard and pushes the belt between the planks to fasten it.

Richard hovers over me as I try the resistance. It holds. He steadies himself with one hand and with a soft stroke he lets his other hand glide from my wrist, all along my arm, over the outer line of my breast and down my ribs and the feeling of his warm hand makes my skin tingle. He repeats, but more slowly, giving me more time to feel his touch. I shiver under his hands, he’s so gentle in his touch but I feel the strength in him when he’s holding back. The sensation makes my core ache.

”You are so beautiful, Y/N. Seeing you like this…I want you so badly.”

”You have me.” I whisper, and when I say it, I realise I mean it in more than one way.

Richard's mouth crashes against mine, and he uses his tongue to part my lips for him. His growl vibrates through my mouth and throat, sending streams of fire directly to my core. Like he is eager to take advantage of my state, Richard soon deserts my mouth and works his way down my neck, chest and breasts. He sets my skin on fire with his lips and tongue, and when he drags his beard over my lower belly, my whole body arches involuntarily under him.

”Richard,” I cry out. ”Please.”

He hums against my skin, adding his wonderful attentive hands to his physical worship of my body. His beard gently scratches against my inner thigh as he kisses my skin teasingly, and I whimper.

”Please!”

”Please what, Y/N?”

I pull the restraints but the leather is not giving in. I moan as the belt tightens around my wrists by my own struggle. He kisses the most sensitive patch of my skin and melts me like a piece of gold in a furnace, and my voice turns to a plea.

”I need you, inside me.” My voice is trembling now, the power of his heat is almost too much.

”How can I deny you, when you speak like that?” Richard purrs and agonizingly slow he comes up and rests on his knees between my spread legs, his thighs effectively preventing me from moving.

With a low grunt he positions himself and pulls me against him, making my restrained arms stretch over my head.

I welcome him with a muffled moan and feel my body’s tight embrace around him. When he moves, a wave of pleasure washes over me, overwhelmingly increased by the feeling of giving myself to him like this. Never failing to read my body, he gives me all I need and silently asks in return. Richard's upper body soon glitters like dew on a summer morning, his ragged breath blends with sinful moaning. My inner fire explodes into a raging storm, and then, a blissful release of all the built up tension bursts out in my core as I cry out his name. His fingers dig into my flesh and with a few last thrusts he joins me, extending my high far above the endless sky of lust.

Richard leans down to kiss me, his chest is heaving and he’s panting.

”Heavens, Y/N,” he whispers and rests his forehead against mine in an intimate gesture.

Slowly he unties my hands, and brings my wrists to his lips. He softly kisses the red marks left by his belt and then looks at me.

”You really are a Goddess.”

I blush and laugh it off.

”You’re not so bad yourself, Richard. That was amazing. Again.”

He looks at me with such a sweet expression on his face and I can’t help but giggle. He pulls me close in a warm embrace and kisses me softly. I snuggle against his chest and close my eyes. I love the feeling of his arms around me and my body relaxes against his. I want to stay like this.

Tell him, my treacherous heart whispers and I swallow hard. Not now.

I feel Richard letting out a deep sigh and then he gently caresses my hair.

”As much as I’d love to stay here in bed with you all day, I need to get up. Duty calls.”

I nod, trying my best to hide my disappointment.

”Will you join me for a shower? God knows I need one!” he jokes and his contagious smile has me smiling back at him. Then he leaves the bed, holds out his hand for me to take and leads me to the bathroom.

With my hair still damp from the shower, we share breakfast. Such a common thing to do, but for some reason it feels different from all other breakfasts I’ve had. It’s not a grand meal, just cheese sandwiches and tea, but on this particular morning I can’t think of a better choice.

Richard sits at the table with his back to the large window. The sun shines through the glass and illuminates him, giving him a glowing halo. Suitable considering how many times he sent me to heaven, and the intense blessing I felt after our bodies became one. I smile as the feeling of his assault on me still lingers on my skin.

Richard is silent now, and he drinks his tea, no doubt deep in his own thoughts. When he speaks, I almost jump, having lost myself in my own.

”What are your plans for today?”

”I have no plans…I mean, I didn’t plan to…stay the night.” I take a deep breath. ”You probably have a busy schedule and all, maybe I should just…”

”I don’t,” he cuts in. Then he frowns, and I can almost see him battling with his own thoughts.

”You could take Naughty Thoughts out for a ride if you like. I can join you on one of the others… If you want me to,” Richard looks at me, and in his eyes I read…hope. Warmth spreads in my chest, there is still time. Time to tell him. I ignore the flattering of my heart.

”I would love that, thanks.”

His face lights up in a contagious smile.

”Great!”

We finish our meal in silence, but then again, being silent around Richard does not feel awkward. It’s a comforting, peaceful and relaxing silence. It’s the type of silence people who care for each other deeply can have, where no words are needed. Just the presence of the other person is enough. The content silence I saw my parents share when I was young.

When we are done, Richard reaches for my arm and squeezes it gently.

”I need to change into breeches. If you haven't changed your mind about riding him again.”

Fifteen minutes later we walk down the hill towards the stables. Richard is wearing a tight black t-shirt that accentuates his toned chest and his dark grey breeches look like they were painted on his muscular legs. The sight of his behind makes my mouth go dry.

It’s already warm outside, the sky is clear and every flower in the grass next to the narrow road has a busy winged visitor, trying hard to collect the very essence of the blooms.

The stable feels chilly thanks to its thick stone walls. This time I find my way to Naughty Thoughts’ stall without help. A small neigh greets me when I enter and I can hear Richard chuckle behind me.

”He remembers you. And likes you. He doesn't greet everybody like that.” I turn my head and smile at Richard. He walks up so he is standing right behind me. So close I can feel his breath on my neck when he speaks.

”You must be special,” he murmurs and gently strokes the small of my back. Suddenly he turns and leaves me alone with Naughty Thoughts.

”To him as well,” he whispers softly as he strides over to the stall on the opposite side.

I look at the handsome grey in front of me. Heavens, he too is a sight for the gods. Just like his owner.

I pet him on the neck. So much has happened since I buried my nose in his coat yesterday. I smile and try to collect my thoughts and feelings. On the other side of the aisle I can hear Richard humming a tune. I can’t make out what it is, but it enchants me. His dark and smooth voice wraps around my soul like a comforting blanket, making me calm and unable to do anything except listening to him.

”How are things going?”

Richard pulls me abruptly from my own world. That voice. It makes my heart melt like ice in a cocktail on a hot summer day.

”Oh. Great I think.”

I giggle softly. Naughty Thoughts looks at me with his big dark eyes and I give him a thankful stroke on his shoulder. He will never give my secrets away.

Richard leads a long legged chestnut out to the yard. Her tall white socks are perfectly even and a matching blaze graces her slightly concave head. She shakes her head impatiently as Richard puts his foot in the stirrup and with the grace of a panther he swings his leg over her back. In awe I see them mold into the same form, their years of careful bonding evident. Her ears flip back and forth, awaiting his discrete aids.

”Yours?” I simply nod at them.

He grins back at me and pets her affectionately on the neck.

”This is Ember. My little red devil.”

We follow the trail along the steam leading away from the stables, over green fields covered in meadow flowers. A gust of wind caresses my chin, like the breath of a heated lover. It plays with my hair and cools the skin of my body, and makes Naughty Thoughts’ tail wave at it’s will. He is such an amazing creature. Steady, but lively. Temperamental, intelligent and kind. He listens to every word and every cue I give him.

I can feel Richard’s eyes on me, and when I look at him he has a mischievous smile on his face.

”You know, he looks really good under you.”

I laugh at our little internal joke and that deceitful heart of mine picks up speed by the thought alone. We have a joke.

The ride ends way too fast and even if the sun is high in the sky when we come back, I don’t want this to be over. Not right now. But it’s inevitable. Richard told me that he has to prepare for another set of potential customers coming the same afternoon. And I told him that I needed to go home. A lie, but I just couldn’t tell him the truth. You want to stay! My heart scolds me.

I take my time getting Naughty Thoughts groomed. I’m in no rush whatsoever. Time is precious and nothing I have a lot of left right now. His coat is sweaty after almost two hours in the sun and I tend to him in all the ways I know. When I fill a sponge with cold water and press against his chest I can almost hear him sigh.

”I could use a sponge as well.”

”Christ, Richard! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

”Sorry, it was not my intention to startle you.”

His smile reaches his eyes and I have to steady myself on Naughty Thoughts, preventing myself from falling to the ground as my knees decide to give in.

He closes the gap between us, and it’s like the air is charged with electricity. His warm hand strokes my chin, and then rests on my slightly sweaty neck.

”Y/N,” he says hesitantly. ”I’ve wanted to say this all morning. But I think I was just…afraid…to say it. Afraid to make you uncomfortable.”

My heart feels like a drum and I can hear every beat echoing in my head. Richard holds my gaze, steadily. Then he takes a deep breath, and speaks again.

”I like you, Y/N. And I really want to see you again. Very soon. If you feel the same, that is?”

His eyes. Azure blue with a hint of starlight. Warm and kind. I fall helplessly into the depths of them. Longingly I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. A surprised moan falls over his lips, but then he quickly folds his arms around my waist in the sweetest embrace.

When I break the kiss he looks at me expectantly and I realise he wants me to say something also.

”I definitely want to see you again. Soon.”

His lips meet mine once more and to the sound of our soft giggles, we confirm our feelings.

Just like that he turned the hourglass around. The time that was running out, now replaced with a promise for more. This will not be the day we say ”goodbye”, but instead ”see you soon”.

My heart flutters and this time I don’t ignore it.

See, I was right. He feels it too.

~~~THE END~~~

Did you like it? Please like, comment or/and reblog it!

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @laurfilijames @legolasbadass @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @thewarriorandtheking @serasvictoria @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n

#richard armitage #fanfic #reader insert #richard armitage x reader #richard x female reader #horses #equestrian #smut #richard armitage smut #stgc #series

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arrantsnowdrop · 3 years ago

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To be a Jedi - Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Request: “anakin/female!reader getting together fic that involves reader crying because she’s feeling self-conscious about her appearance and feeling worthless and anakin comforting her and calming her down and then accidentally confessing to her?”

Tags: @lothloriien

Warnings: self-deprecation, insecurities, etc. (~2,500 words)

~~~~~

Being a Jedi really sucked sometimes.

Not all the time. In fact, you normally enjoyed the fast-paced, demanding lifestyle you led. Even as a youngling you had taken pride in the ritual and responsibility of being a Jedi, and now, as a Padawan on the verge of facing the Jedi trials, you were more confident than ever that the Force had led you down the right path.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t have bad days every once in a while.

Your Master had been called away on some highly classified mission in the Naboo system, so you’d been spending the week at the Jedi Temple working on some independent research and participating in training sessions with the other senior Padawans. Unfortunately, they were focusing on lightsaber combat this week - something you were definitely not as skilled at considering your specialization in negotiation and communications.

It wasn’t that you were unathletic - you were training to be a Jedi for crying out loud - but it was hard not to feel a little self-conscious about how much you were struggling with the training exercises, especially when your assigned training partner was none other than Anakin Skywalker.

It was just past midday - you’d been training for hours already and still had a few to go. The sun was blaring down on the courtyard where you and the other Padawans were sparring under Obi-Wan’s supervision.

You panted heavily, eyeing Anakin as the two of you circled each other slowly. There was no question as to which one of you would launch the next parry - Anakin had taken the offensive right out of the gate - so all you could do was try to catch your breath and prepare yourself for his next attack.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, a few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and some of his hair sticking to his face. His eyes were following your every move, tracking you like you were some kind of prey.

You hated this.

Suddenly, Anakin lunged forward, blue lightsaber whirring loudly as he swung it towards you. You groaned, lifting your own lightsaber up at the last possible moment to deflect him.

“Such a slow reaction time,” Anakin teased, grinning as he stepped back to give himself a wider range of motion.

“I thought it would take you longer to catch your breath,” you replied, voice strained as you blocked another one of his strikes.

You’d been friends with Anakin since Obi-Wan took him as a Padawan years ago, offering to help him as he played “catch up” with the rest of you. The fact he’d become such a strong Force-user despite starting so late was something you deeply respected him for, though you were perfectly content simply watching him display these skills.

Being on the receiving end of a lightsaber attack from Anakin Skywalker was not something you would consider enjoyable. You’d spent the whole morning dodging and jumping and somehow still losing every match.

You flinched as Anakin’s lightsaber hit your torso, the sting of the “training mode” setting hurting far less than the sting of your own pride.

“Seven to one,” Obi-Wan called from where he was watching. You groaned, rubbing your temples with your free hand and turning your lightsaber off.

“Hey, you were definitely doing better than time,” Anakin said reassuringly, sensing your frustration. “Improvement is all Obi-Wan is looking for.”

“Improvement doesn’t take away from the fact I’ve lost seven matches today,” you seethed, bending down to re-tie the laces of your boots.

“Perhaps if you worked out a bit more you wouldn’t lose so often,” one of the other Padawans jested. Your head snapped up, face flushing as you sent them a pointed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked curtly, watching them look between you and Anakin uncomfortably.

“It’s just-”

They didn’t get a chance to finish, letting out a small shriek as they dodged a rock flying through the air. You turned around to look at Anakin, his slightly raised hand indicating who’d been responsible for the rock. At least he was using his Force capabilities in your favor now.

“Thanks,” you muttered, reigniting your lightsaber, glancing at the clock above where Obi-Wan was sitting. All you wanted was for training to be over so you could retreat to your room.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Anakin said, a somewhat angry look on his face as he took a fighting stance across from you. “You’re perfectly capable of wielding a lightsaber, and you’d definitely beat them if you’d been paired up.”

“Hopefully,” you corrected him, “hopefully I’d beat them.”

“Definitely,” Anakin insisted, you rolling your eyes as you lifted your lightsaber in front of you.

----

What sucked about getting older was how little you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin. Your Master was responsible for conducting multiple research projects for the Jedi Council off-world, and Obi-Wan and Anakin hardly ever stayed on Coruscant for longer than a few days, so it was unlikely that you’d find yourselves in the same place for a decent amount of time anymore.

Normally, you would’ve used this week as a great opportunity to catch up with one of your oldest friends. This damn lightsaber training was getting in the way.

It had been yet another long day of sweating the equivalent of your own bodyweight and paling in comparison to Anakin’s abilities. Obi-Wan had focused on lightsaber combat in precarious and compromising situations, with one of which resulting in you falling off a two story rock wall.

As you stood in front of the mirror in your room you couldn’t overlook the spattering of bruises covering your torso and arms, all varying hues of blue and purple culminating from the last few days. You sighed, grateful you were getting the extra training you so clearly needed and nervous about what that meant. Imagine you’d been confronted by some Sith fanatic in the last few weeks - who knows how long you would’ve lasted?

Perhaps you were overthinking. You did have an extremely over-skilled training partner who made most other Jedi look incompetent with a lightsaber.

That being said, you still couldn’t shake what that other Padawan had said about you yesterday. Had you really become unathletic? You didn’t think you’d ever really neglected your daily training exercises, but perhaps those weren’t enough.

You sat down on the edge of your bed slowly, shoulder slumped. Maybe you weren’t as capable as you thought. The bruises all over you and lack of any actual visible muscle certainly pointed towards that.

----

The next morning, you skipped breakfast, giving Obi-Wan some offhanded explanation as to why you’d be missing training and heading for the library. You weren’t really skipping for no reason, your Master had given you a list of different research topics for you to look up in the Jedi Archives. Did you really need the extra time to get this done? No, but it still gave you a good excuse to avoid the feeling of physical incapability that accompanied your training sessions.

Plus, you didn’t want to slow the entire group down. Tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered yesterday when Obi-Wan made you repeat some dumb exercise on a floating raft over and over again, even though everyone else had already done it to his satisfaction. It was humiliating.

At least here in the library, surrounded by stacks of holograms and books, you were in your element. Here you didn’t have to move fast or chop anyone’s limb off out of self-defense.

It was sometime in the late afternoon when Anakin stormed into the library, loud footsteps immediately shushed by a swarm of librarians. You couldn’t help but grin softly, eyes meeting his as he marched over to you much more quietly.

“Even the great Anakin Skywalker is no match for an angry librarian,” you teased, him scoffing as he plopped down in a chair next to you.

“And where were you today?” Anakin asked, a strange intensity behind his question. You gulped, gesturing to the pile of transcripts and notes in front of you.

“I was right here,” you replied meekly.

“Since this morning?” he asked, eyes widening in surprise. You nodded.

“What the heck, Y/N,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Obi-Wan assigned me a different partner. Do you know how irritating every other Padawan is to train with?”

“No, I’ve only ever trained with you,” you said bluntly.

“Exactly!” Anakin responded a little too loudly, earning him a dramatic shush from the circulation desk.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, slapping his chest lightly. He rolled his eyes.

“What I mean is that I’ve only ever trained with you, too, so everyone else doesn’t live up to my expectations.”

“What expectations?” you asked quizzically, flipping one of your notebooks closed.

“Working hard but still having a good time,” he answered, waving his hand nonchalantly. “You never sacrifice good banter for anything, I value that.”

“Ah, I’m glad to know you only value me as a training partner for my humor,” you retorted dryly, gathering all your belongings into a pile and standing up. Anakin’s brows furrowed as he looked up at you, a confused look painted across his face.

“Hey, what?” he asked, standing up with you. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just makes sense that you only enjoy my conversation, not anything actually training-related.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, completely dumbfounded as you started walking away.

“See you tomorrow, Anakin,” you replied, refusing to shed any more tears until you reached your room.

----

The next morning you were too unmotivated to let Obi-Wan know you weren’t coming, deciding instead to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. Well, you were reading, but what did that really matter to a Jedi? You were supposed to be able to do backflips through the air and take on five enemies at once, and yet here you were wrapped in two blankets feeling like absolute shit. Some Jedi you were.

You held your breath as someone began knocking furiously on the door, hoping desperately they would think you weren’t home.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” Anakin called. You groaned, turning around and smashing your face into the pillow.

“Y/N!” he called again.

“Don’t come in!” you shouted back, voice muffled through the pillow.

“I’m coming in.”

“Don’t-”

You never got the chance to finish, bolting upright in bed as the door flew open, Anakin stalking in. You rolled your eyes, just thankful he had kept the door on its hinges.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, cringing as you recoiled slightly at his harsh words.

“What do you mean?” you replied quietly, his face softening as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I meant what’s wrong, not what’s wrong with you,” Anakin corrected, taking your hand in his own.

“Nothing’s wr-”

“Don’t give me that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even try, I know you better than anyone Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You kept quiet, focusing on the way his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“You’ve been acting off since we started training together, is it something I did?” he tried again, genuinely concerned. You laughed dryly and shook your head.

“No, Anakin, you didn’t do anything,” you replied truthfully, looking at him. “You’re perfect, I promise you did nothing wrong.” He gave you a small smile, looking down to where he was still holding your hand. He didn’t let go, only gripped you a little tighter, urging you to continue. You bit your lip, debating whether or not to tell him.

“Do you remember when that Padawan told me I needed to exercise more?” you asked finally. His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours.

“I knew it,” he murmured, nostrils flaring as he tried (and failed) to conceal his budding anger. “I knew it.”

“Anakin it’s ok,” you said, reaching out and rubbing his forearm, his gaze following your hand. “I mean, they were right, if I-”

“No,” Anakin said. “No, they weren’t right. They have no idea how strong you are, how capable-”

“Anakin I’ve struggled this entire week,” you blurted, eyes stinging and face heating up. “I pale in comparison to you, and the other Padawans, at least physically. I thought whatever training I’d been doing had been enough but clearly it wasn’t, so they’re right. I need to exercise more, I need to train more, I’m incapable of defending myself with a lightsaber and I don’t even look like a proper Jedi.” You thrust your bruised arms out towards him. “Look at these, you don’t have them, no one else does. I’m the only one who struggles with every exercise and test.”

You realized you’d begun to cry, tears rolling down your face and breaths shallow.

“Y/N,” Anakin murmured, hurt in his eyes as he took your arms gingerly in his hands. “Y/N, no.”

Your eyes widened as Anakin bent over, slowly pressing his mouth to each bruise on your forearms. You gulped, feeling a little dizzy as Anakin glanced up at you. “You’re an amazing Jedi,” he started, sitting back up straight and pulling you closer to him. You tried to pull away, not wanting to stain his robes with your tears, but he held you firmly. “You’re already stronger than half the people in that group, I’ll have Obi-Wan reassign you so you can kick someone’s ass and everyone will realize it.”

“Anakin-”

He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You closed your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his body against yours.

“There’s more to being a Jedi than using a lightsaber, anyways,” he continued. “You’re the only person our age in this whole temple that can negotiate with warlords and thieves and murderers and still come back unscathed with five new friends.”

You chuckled, biting your lip as he pressed a kiss against your hair.

“You’re perfect, Y/N,” he insisted softly, you shifting in his arms to gaze up at him.

You were surprised by how nervous he looked, as if he didn’t know how you’d react to what he’d just said, what he’d just implied. You just smiled softly, leaning up to press a slow kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Anakin,” you mumbled against his face, grinning as you felt him smile.

Suddenly he pushed himself up, forcing you down onto the bed and collapsing on top of you. You shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles as he began nestling himself in your hair.

“Shouldn’t you still be at training?” you asked, a wide smile on your face.

“I was sent here by Obi-Wan to fetch you,” he replied smugly.

“So shouldn’t we both be getting back then?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at you with a cocky smile on his face.

“I never told him when I’d be coming back.”

You decided you could afford to skip training another day - Anakin probably needed the rest anyways - and pulled his face down to meet your own.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction

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thera-daydreams · 3 years ago

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PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

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