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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

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Sugar, Sugar 15

[FIFTEEN/END]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, violence, mean sugary Steve

This is a dark! sugar daddy! Steve fic. Obvious AU so please keep that in mind. :) That being said, it will be an explicit fic (18+) with noncon. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

(This chapter: violence, threats, fear :O)

Series Summary: The reader is struggling in the big city but find opportunity before her. Will she take it?

This Chapter: The wedding day approaches but not everything goes to plan.

Author Notes: So this is another series wrapped up after a grueling two years, haha. Sorry y’all.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

🍭 🍭 🍭

The floor length mirror was trimmed with twisted gold. You stared at your reflection as your shaky hands pressed against the front of the ivory dress. The cut hid the small bump but you could not forget it. Ever since you confessed, it all happened so fast; the wedding was pushed up, the dress tailored and expedited, and invitations sent out in a rush.

It all felt surreal. The day had come but you just couldn’t accept it. How could you go through those doors and smile through it all?

You closed your eyes and let your breath out. They would knock when it was your time. Your father would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. The guests waited eagerly for the most talked about ceremony in the city. And you still felt like just a footnote in your own wedding.

You moved away from the mirror and sat unsteadily, gripping the arms of the cushioned chair, careful not to catch your veil under you. That night you told him, that was the final straw. But you didn’t forget what Sasha said. You took a picture of the broken door and wrote down the entire scene. You sent it to yourself in an email as proof.

That wasn’t the last time. You recorded Steve one day when he came in as you were texting your sister about the new date. You hadn’t answered his last message about your first appointment with the doctor. He was livid and you sat and listened to him rant as the red dots pulsed. You wrote down every instance, every time he made you appease him, every terrifying word.

Then there were the police reports. Nothing more than words in a filing cabinet but the night he choked you was just the beginning. He threatened to break your finger when you took your ring off because your hands were swelling. Then he broke your laptop when you didn’t pay him enough attention.

As the wedding loomed closer, he only seemed to get worse. He was clingy, always touching you, marveling over your stomach. He checked in almost every hour on the hour when he was working, and you weren’t stupid enough not to notice that the building was being watched.

It was like you were living two lives and yet you were entirely trapped with him. What good could the emails do? Or the reports when the police wouldn’t act on them? You were going to marry this man and that would be the end of it; of you, of your life.

Knuckles tapped on the door and you stood. You crossed the room and inched it open the door. You flinched as you were met by an unexpected and uninvited guest.

“Sasha?” you gasped.

“You’re marrying him then?” he held the handle but you didn’t try to close the door, “the account gone, I heard nothing from you.”

“I… I’m scared,” you admitted, “when he found out, I thought he was going to--” you shook your head. He wouldn’t actually kill you.

“You know it’s not too late,” Sasha urged.

“You can’t be here, it he finds out, he’ll--”

“I’ll defend myself,” Sasha snarled uncharacteristically, “I’ll give him what he deserves.’

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to go,” you begged as you glanced past him furtively.

“I will. Come with me,” he said, “just go. Everyone’s distracted, they won’t know--”

“I can’t just leave. You don’t understand--”

“No, you don’t understand,” he argued, “if you marry him, it all gets so much more complicated. I told you that day at the café. It will be harder to fight after the vows, but right now, you can still get out.”

“And go where?”

He swallowed and looked down the hall. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd.

“Did you do any of it? Keep a journal? Something?” he asked.

“I tried. I went to the police but nothing,” you sniffed and gripped the door tight.

“Nothing yet but that’s a start,” he chewed the inside of his lip.

“Why are you here? Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I can do something,” he hissed, “because I can’t live with it if I don’t. So come on. Come with me, I got a bigger place. It’ll have to do for now and then we’ll work on getting you standing, getting the baby somewhere to grow--”

“Am I trading him for you?”

“I’m your friend,” he said evenly, “that will never change. All I want is you safe. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the hall. You can lock me out and I’ll sleep against the door. But I came down here knowing I wouldn’t leave without you.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy but--”

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand and pushed the door open, “please, don’t go with him. It doesn’t end well. You don’t get out. It doesn’t get better.”

“I have nothing,” you quavered.

“You have me,” he said, “please don’t make me walk out of here alone.”

“I….” you uttered as your heart squeezed. “He’ll come after you.”

“Good, I want him to,” he clung to you, “please?”

You inhaled and heard the voices. Your father and your sister. You had no time to think but you knew it was your only chance.

“Let’s go,” you lifted your skirt and pulled the door shut behind you as you stepped out, “now.”

He held onto your hand as you rushed away from the voices and skirted around the corner. Sasha urged you on down the back stairs and through the maze like halls of the extravagant church. You nearly tumbled down the stairs and he caught you as you came along the narrow passage beside the main room, the guests and groom just on the other side of the wall.

You came out into the sunlight and Sasha lifted the train of your skirts as he directed you over the grass. our heels sank into the dirt as you rushed over and the organ began to play Here Comes the Bride. As he helped stuff the swathes of fabric in behind you in his modest car, the music stopped suddenly.

He closed the door as you were squished in the back seat amid your layered skirts and he got in the front. The engine turned and he nearly side swept another car as he pulled out without looking. You peeked back behind you but saw no one coming down the large steps of the church.

He turned the corner and sidled in behind a yellow cab. He looked at you in the mirror and nodded. You bit your lips nervously as reality sank in. Your chest hammered and your entire body buzzed with adrenaline. You knew it was only the beginning.

🍭

The day passed in a daze. You sat in your wedding dress waiting for all hell to break loose. Sasha sat with a beer, silently, and tapped his foot endlessly. When the silence was too much, he turned on the television but neither of you paid any attention to the old sitcom.

When the trance of disbelief dissipated, he showed you around his spacious loft. He was being paid well by Stark but you worried how long he would stay on the payroll after what he’d done. Steve wasn’t stupid and there were more photographers at the church then you’d seen collectively over the last year and a half.

“This is the second bedroom,” he showed you into a room with gleaming windows. There was a bed, a dresser, curtains, a cozy rug, all carefully selected, “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

Your eyes lingered on the box leaned against the far wall. A crib.

“Didn’t know how long…” his voice trailed off as he followed your eye line, “I’m not trying to be him. You can go anytime but I… you have a place here.”

Your eyes welled and you blotted them with your knuckles, the rough lace of your gloves scratching your cheeks, “you did all this for me?”

“I told you, I’d do anything,” he said.

“But… Sasha, I don’t--”

“I don’t expect anything from you. High school was a long time ago but you made it bearable for the biggest dweeb in the class.” He sighed and paced a circle around the room, “you know, I had the biggest crush on you. That doesn’t mean anything now, it doesn’t mean I want you to fall into my arms, but it means I want to help you. It’s the right thing to do, somehow I made a career of doing the right thing so what’s one more?”

You felt your chest sink and you covered your cheeks with your hands, “Sasha?”

“Please,” he cringed, “I was a teen boy, I think I had a thing for Oprah once. Really, it’s just… we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

“I can’t…” you sniffled and dropped your hands, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Sasha intoned, “and you don’t deserve to live like that. I know this isn’t much but I know you. You’ll find your way, you just got a little lost.”

“I…” you shook your head speechless.

“We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and then we can see about retrieving your things from Steve,” he neared the door and stopped beside you, “or we can say fuck it and you can start all over.”

You turned and slung your arms around him. You buried your face against his shoulder as tears spilled out onto his jacket.

“How did you know?” you sobbed.

“That day at the shower,” he rubbed your back gently, “you know, lawyers learn how to read people and you never were very good at subtlety.”

“No,” you chuckled through your tears, “No, it’s why I was great as a bard.”

“Mmm,” he grumbled, “if that’s how you remember it.”

🍭

It felt like Sasha was gone forever but when you checked the clock, it had only been twenty minutes.

You sat on the couch with your feet under you as you watched the news and rocked nervously. All anyone was talking about was Steve Rogers’ runaway bride. Your face was everywhere and the statement issued by Steve made it all the worse.

He painted you as a gold-digger, as an adulterer, as a swindler. He was the heartbroken fiancé and you were the wrongdoer. You knew it would go this way but expectation never softened reality.

You flinched as the lock turned and Sasha entered with a bag in hand. He came to the couch and set it down beside you.

“I don’t know about my taste in women's clothes but those should do,” he said as he checked his watch, “we should go soon.”

“Yeah,” you stood and opened the bag to reveal the lavender blouse and dark jeans, “you really didn’t have to--”

“You kidding, he’s gonna be surrounded by cameras. You can’t win his game if you don’t play it. I’ve dealt with his type before, they’re the ones who need lawyers on standby,” he sneered, “did you eat?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you swiped up the bag and headed for the hallway, “it was good.”

“No problem,” he shrugged as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv, “and ignore all that nonsense.”

You got dressed and emerged as your anxiety grew to impatience. You left the apartment in brittle silence and the car ride fed the uneasy bubbling of your stomach. .

As you came up to Steve’s building, you sat for a moment before you got out. Sasha followed and shoulder away the cameras as you neared the front door

The elevator moved slowly and fidgeted uncontrollably as it dinged on Steve’s floor. You swallowed and braced yourself to face Steve. Sasha kept a few feet back as you walked down the hall and stopped at the door. You knocked as you found it locked.

It was a while before it opened but when it did, you were startled as Steve grabbed the front of your blouse and wrenched you inside. He spun you but quickly released you as he was knocked off balance and sent sprawling over the floor. Sasha stood above him with his hands in fists.

“Hey,” he pointed at Steve then looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded as Steve glared between the two of you and cautiously got to his feet, “so you brought your little boyfriend?”

“She’s here to get her stuff. We thought we’d avoid a police escort, as her lawyer I thought it prudent, but we can always make that phone call,” Sasha said sternly, “she is entitled to her possessions.”

“Her stuff? I paid for every single thing she has to her name. Hers? Mine.” Steve spat and reared on you again, only to be caught by Sasha as he inserted himself between you.

“You will not touch her again. Those things you bought for her were gifts. You have no legal rights to them once they are given. She will take her clothes, her phone, and any other necessities.”

“Pfft, she’s not taking anything. She’s not going anywhere,” Steve growled, “she not yours--”

“I am certain the photogs would appreciate a show,” Sasha pulled out his phone, “police? That can only be a domestic dispute.”

Steve squinted and his nose flared as he looked at you over Sasha’s shoulder, “fucking slut.” He crossed his arms and stepped aside, “get your shit, get out…” he hissed, “but I have my rights too. You will not keep me from my baby.”

“That will be settled in court,” Sasha replied coolly, “go on, get your things.”

He waved you past him as he kept you shield from Steve. He was of a height with Steve but not as broad. Even so, you felt safe behind him. You rushed down to the bedroom and quickly gathered up your toiletries and those clothes you didn’t absolutely hate. Your phone screen was shattered but you took it anyway.

As you emerged again, a bag slung on your shoulder, you slid the ring from your finger.

“You can keep the rest,” you said as you placed the band on the small round table just inside the front room, “goodbye Steve.”

“Goodbye? Goodbye?” he spat, “this isn’t the end and you fucking know it.”

“Calm down,” Sasha warned.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Steve shoved him, “I should fucking smash your head in--”

“I’d like you to try,” Sasha stood his ground, “really. You think the court would let a violent man be around an infant?”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. He backed down and shouldered by Sasha. “Get the fuck out.”

You left quickly. You had no desire to hang around. As you stepped onto the elevator, Sasha softly touched your elbow and you winced. The bag fell to your elbow and he quickly scooped it up and heaved it over his own shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, “he was so angry. I--”

“I was stupid, we should’ve brought the police. Fuck the cameras,” he said, “from this point on, no contact with him whatsoever. Only through me and the court. No talking to reporters, no nothing.”

“Yeah, that won’t be hard,” you uttered as he led you out of the elevator.

As you came outside, cameras flashed and voices called out. You collided with Sasha as he was blocked by a photographer shouting questions, “is it true you’re pregnant? Is it Steve’s?”

“My client will not be answering questions,” Sasha kept on and made a path for you, “go, she’s not answering any of your questions.”

He elbowed past more cameras and opened the car door for you. You fell inside and quickly huddled down in your seat. As he sat behind the wheel, he mumbled and pulled out into traffic. He gripped the wheel tightly and pushed himself back into the vinyl.

“That asshole,” he said, “he’s gonna want the paternity test. This isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“I can’t… he fucking told them. I mean, I’m not surprised but… god,” you grimaced.

“We’ll get the test done before he makes a formal request,” Sasha said, “it shows transparency and when we hand over those results, we’ll include those police reports too.”

“Police reports?” you blinked.

“Sorry, I… It’s a suggestion,” he said tersely, “but he’s going to make this a trial by media.”

“No, no, I want to,” you said firmly, “I want everyone to know the real Steve Rogers.”

🍭

‘I was just like many struggling in the city. I worked a low-paying job in data entry and lived in an apartment which was little more than a box. The dreams of the big city were passing me by as there was little opportunity to be found.

Then I met Steve Rogers. Like a dream or a Lifetime movie. I was in debt, I was desperate, and he offered me a safety net. I can own my part in the relationship; I was interested and I accepted his generosity. I was all too happy with the arrangement.

That was until I found out that it was all based on a lie. I didn’t know that he had access to my accounts even before I knew him, that he had used his connections to force me into that dire situation. And I could not know the real man behind the billionaire façade.

It was little things at first. Any woman loves to feel wanted but his possessiveness soon turned to control. He kept me isolated from my own family and did not permit me to do anything without his permission. His affection turned to obsession and when it was not reciprocated he forced it from me.

He took me on vacation and did not allow me to wear clothes. He chose what I wore, how I looked, and what I did. He coerced me into acts I was reluctant about, and when he was too rough, he did not listen to my pleas for him to stop.

When I tried to leave him, he followed me and dragged me back. He had me watched by PIs and surveilled all my communications. He used his financial power to control me and when that did not work, he used his physical power.

Steve Rogers abused me. He yelled in my face, he threatened my family, and he choked me.

Steve Rogers raped me. He expected me to bend to his will whenever he desired and when I refused, he held me down and did what he wanted.

Steve Rogers took my whole life and when I chose to leave, he set his eyes on the life inside of me.

The only thing I want from him is freedom. I want to live safely with my child and I want that child to never experience the abuse of their father. I never want anyone to know that horror again which is why I have written this and released the police records. I am not asking for anything but peace for me and my unborn child.’

The statement was carefully edited by Sasha. You reread the font across the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, the article spliced with excerpts not only from the police reports, but your own emailed accounts of your relationship, and the whole thing began with an image of that broken bathroom door.

It was two months since you ran away from the altar but life was not a romcom. It was a disaster. Even with the article, you knew not all would believe you. You knew it would open you to doubt and vitriol. And you knew Steve would have a response.

You closed the magazine and groaned as you rubbed your hips. Freedom didn’t feel so… freeing. There was a long way to go; court dates, doctor’s appointment, and depositions. But it was a start.

You rested your hand on your stomach and pushed on the arm of the couch as you stood stiffly. When you were halfway up, you felt a hand on your elbow and Sasha helped you stand straight. You smiled guiltily. You’d grown a lot in the last few weeks and still had nearly four months to go.

“The reviews are good,” he said, “I know that is kinda grim but… people seem to believe you.”

“Seem to?” you echoed as you went to the kitchen and pulled out the container of sliced strawberries, “or they don’t?”

“Well,” he leaned on the counter as he watched you add too much cream to the berries and smiled, “Stark Industries has cut ties with Shield, Inc. and Tony has made a sizeable donation to several shelters across the city,” he cupped his chin coyly as he leaned on his elbow, “and will be covering legal costs for the support hearings seeing as I can’t legally represent you anymore.”

“Oh,” your mouth fell open before you could spray some cream onto your tongue, “when were you going to tell me this?”

“I’m telling you now,” he crossed his arms as he shifted them further over the island, “I thought I’d give the good news first.”

“And the bad?” you put down the can of cream as you neared the marble across from him.

“I have several requests for interviews and I think you should do at least one,” he said, “I know you hate reporters and all that but… with a little Rogers baby on board, it’s just another part of the process.”

“Oh, and what should I tell them,” you edged around the counter towards him, “that I moved? That I found someone better?” He turned to you, his lips curved as he leaned in and you turned your face up to peck his lips, “or maybe I should tell them I’m single? Keep the intrigue?”

“As long as you tell them I’m handsome, I don’t mind,” he purred as he placed his hand on your side.

“Oh, how could I leave that out?” you cooed and kissed him again, “patient, loving, kind… but what a geek?”

“A geek?” he smirked and framed your chin with his hands, “says the dungeon master.”

You giggled and ran your hands up his chest, “someone’s gotta raise this little bard well.”

“Oh, no, no, she’s not gonna be a bard. Maybe a cleric?”

“No way! That’s lame,” you chirped, “how about… a sorcerer? Ours is a bit lacking.”

“Excuse you,” he quipped, “what was your AC again? Maybe next session I’ll run out of healing spells.”

“See?” you taunted, “geek.”

You drew him to you until he was pressed to your belly and he swept you up in a kiss. You rocked with him as he turned you against the counter and slowly parted.

You squeezed his wrist as you went back around to your strawberries and cream. You took a spoon and scooped up a mouthful as you slid your phone towards you. Sasha stayed as he was, watching you scroll through the emails and piled up texts.

You stopped as one blared in all caps. There was no name, only ‘Private’. You opened the conversation and found a dozen bubbles; ‘THIS ISN’T OVER’, ‘HE CAN’T KEEP YOUR FROM ME’, ‘CUTE, YOU THINK PEOPLE BELIEVE YOUR SHIT.’ Another message blipped up, an image and you dropped your spoon as it opened.

You saw the picture of your sister and her son. You shook as you put your hand down on the counter and choked on the cream.

“What?” Sasha reached over and turned your phone to him, “Shit,” he sighed and blocked the number, “he’s just stacking the evidence against himself.”

“I--” you blinked as tears boiled behind your eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” he screencapped the conversation, “this just makes the case even easier.”

“No, I will always be afraid of him,” you said as you touched your stomach, “it’s not just about me anymore.”

“And it’s not just you anymore,” he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, “we’ve been through worse. If we can get through a cave full of orcs, we can defeat Steve Rogers.”

END (or is it?)

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sugar daddy au #au #sugar daddy!steve Rogers #sugar sugar #marvel #mcu #captain america

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blissfulparker · 3 years ago

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Wipeout⇔ Surfer!Dad!tom

Parings: surfer!dad!tom x surfer!reader

Summary; You and Tom spend your whole relationship in the water. Surfing under the summer sun and competing in summers biggest surf competition. To a surpise, you and Tom take on the biggest challenge nature could throw at you. A baby.

Wc: 9k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities durning pregnancy, fluff

A/n: I know this isn’t a birthday themed fic for Toms b-day but I hope you all enjoy! My little spin on a summer fic with dad!tom 🥰

June.

The summer breeze rose goosebumps to your skin. Your hands coming up to rub your arms as the water was only a bit colder today.

it was summer, the best part of the year when you lived with a beach in your backyard. Spending your whole life surfing you now prepared for the summer tournament that happened only weeks away from now. Surfers, fans, media come in from nearly all over the world just to compete.

To feel a wave under their boards and the adrenaline that rushes through your blood when you finally get on top. The same competition that lead you to Tom, Tom who was now your boyfriend of two years. At first, you laughed at the boy.

Pale, shy—yet so cocky and from London of all places. The most water they got is from the sky. You wanted to laugh with your friends for how confident he was acting, little rain boy wanted to have a chance in the big ocean and he did. To your shock, he scored better than you and scored to be in the top 10. Your laughs stopped after competition and maybe it was the slight momentary enemy thing or it was that deep blue bikini that made him find you after the games and get you out for a drink.

That drink was truly a shared basket of fish and chips as you talked more and more about each other. Pale, rainy London boy ended up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You wiped out twice!” He sits atop his board and your hands rub over your face.

“Maybe because I’m distracted!” You splash water in his direction. His toned abs always tanner during g this year and it was hard for the both of you to control yourself. “I’m just tired, stressed.” You shrugged it off truthfully.

“You fell asleep at 8:00 last night, grandma.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Competition stress.” You point to him and he shrugs. If he’s honest, within the two years he’s known you, two years he’s loved and wondered where you had been all his life, he knew your stress. When you were stressed you oftentimes took long showers or wrote in your journal for hours on end but this time your stress was sleeping early/in late and a few times he’s caught you throwing up. All under the name of stress.

He didn’t push anything though, reminding you that he is there and you could tell him anything. But nonetheless, he left you be and just kissed your cheek and told you everything was okay.

“Race you to shore and whoever gets back inside first gets the leftover chicken from last night!” He starts to swim and you quickly flatten yourself on your board.

“What are we like five?” You call out but still push yourself to go faster. Pushing yourself to race him to shore.

Even though Toms board was definitely double his size, he still beat you into the house, already washed off and reheating the leftovers for lunch. After a morning swim you always had lunch before you went off to work where you would teach little kids how to surf. No matter what, you were always around the water.

“So I was checking the competition list this week, checking to see if there’s anyone new…” he trails off on a story. The two of you share the chicken and fries before you suddenly get a disgusted taste in your mouth. The chicken suddenly becomes sour in your mouth but you force yourself to swallow, Tom notices the change and he stops everything to make sure you’re okay.

“Darling, what is it?” He has a worried look but you shake your head.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. I-I just think this part of my chicken was a bit undercooked and it grossed me out. It’s nothing.” You smiled at him and he waited a second before continuing his story.

But that wasn’t the end of it, the next bite even more sour and this time you drop your fork and open the trash can to spit it out. The spitting then followed by spitting up all of your breakfast and lunch. Tom quickly coming to move any stray hair and rubbing your back as he tried to not throw up himself.

When you were done, he quickly closed the trash can lid and got you into the bathroom where he assembled the toothbrush for you.

“Peaches, I know that you told me not to worry but this is the third time this week.” He folded his arms as he leans against the wall.

“I’m fine.” You say through a mouth filled with toothpaste. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth while also splashing some water over your face. When you look back up, just a bit, your eyes flicker to the untouched box of tampons.

One week late wasn’t so bad, one week late was just some built up stress and every women had been a week or two late before. But before tom can take notice in your distraction, you turn around to him who hands you a towel.

“But you’re not fine.” He argues a bit gently, not wanting to offend you.

“Tom, in school I would throw up during exam seasons all the time. It’s just stress okay? Better than losing hair or breaking out I guess.” You try and joke with him but he doesn’t exactly laugh. Just stares at you worried and you push back a few of his curls.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him and his eyes meet yours. “I’m fine, seriously! Just a bit of stress and nothing the ocean water and you can’t fix.” You kiss his cheek and he finally smiles.

“Can you go see a doctor? For yourself and if not for yourself then for me, I want you to do good at competition and you know they won’t let you compete if you are sick in anyway.” He rubs up and down your sides and you sigh. Hating the doctors but you agree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment but they will just tell me I just have butterflies.” You tell him and that’s when he grows a smirk.

“Aw, babe, I didn’t know after all these years I still gave you butterflies!” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully nudging your body against him. Both leaving the bathroom, your eyes flicker over to the untouched box to tampons that just taunt you one last time before tom shuts the bathroom door. It was possible, you just didn’t want it to be possible just yet.

“I should’ve canceled, I should be there!” Tom speaks through the phone. You sat in an empty, cold doctors office waiting for blood results to get back.

Despite Toms over worrying, everything was fine. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you and agreed when you mentioned how it was just anxiety and nerves. Yet they still had to run a blood test to make sure it wasn’t anything they missed and couldn’t see with the naked eye.

Meanwhile tom had to be the most dramatic person out there. You always told him if he was not a surfer he would be an actor. It was impressive how every single night before bed he had a new condition to diagnose you with. Some so severe and outrageous you had to remind him that this wasn’t 1600s England and that you didn’t have the plague. That things were just from stress and if it was a stomach bug then let it run through.

Yet he would rant to you nearly every single night about how he’s always loved you and hated that this was the way to go. Always with that you would smack him with a pillow and tell him to go to sleep and with that he would kiss your cheek and hold you tight as he fell asleep.

“Tom, it’s fine. Seriously! They said they couldn’t find anything wrong, you’d be wasting your time to come here. The most you’d get out of this visit is maybe a sticker. Does Tommy want his girlfriend to bring him back a sticker?” You used a baby voice and you could practically hear him going red.

With a scoff he replies, “Ugh, no. What am I like five?” He pauses for a moment. “But what kind do they have? Were you able to check?” He asked in more of a quiet voice and you laugh.

“No clue. But the nurse told me the best thing I could do is just drink some tea and rest. Maybe they have some spiderman stickers or Sofia the first stickers.” You fiddle with the loose thread on your pants. Ending with a joke to calm both yours and Tom's nerves.

With a smirk, Tom Says, “you’ve been drinking some British tea for awhile—“ he jokes and you quickly cut him off.

“Tom!” You say and as if it was a sign, the nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a gentle smile. “Hey, I’ll call you back, the nurse has my results.”

“Wait! Before you go, ask them to check for tapeworms—“ before he could finish you hung up.

“He’s just dramatic.” You laughed a bit and the nurse laughed along before taking a seat across from you. She clicks her pen which makes you nervous for some reason.

“So your blood came back fine, everything is okay. I just have a few little things such as are you on any birth control?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Oh no, um...haven’t been for a while. But my boyfriend and I use protection and we’re safe. We only used planB once and that was a year ago.” You tell her but she looks up at you. Nodding as she purses her lips.

“Condoms only go so far sweetheart. We just have to ask patients who we find to be with a child incase of any birth control so we can remove it immediately, the birth control, I mean, remove that immediately.” With child. You were with a child. Pregnant. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest and the nurse says a few more things but they don’t register.

“Y-You mean there’s a baby inside of me?” You don’t know what color you look right now but you would assume pale, or green with the feeling of vomiting and this time not from slightly uncooked raw leftover chicken.

“Yup, about one month along it looks! We still will want to run more tests and…” she talks more and more but you don’t listen. Your brain foggy, you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or throw up or shit everywhere from how nervous you were. Hell, even all three seemed like an option as she talked. “So I’ll leave you to tell the important news?” She asked. This was apart of her regular day to day, she probably had hundreds of girls like you come in. Clueless and thinking of a stomach bug and then finding out they are pregnant.

“Y-Yeah.” You try to form a smile.

“Perfect, just meet me up at the desk whenever you’re ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you are feeling queasy and of course, help yourself to as many waters in the mini fridge in our waiting room. Congratulations!” She says before she turns out and all you hear is the door click shut. The white noise of the light and the taps of your fingernails against the cool metal bed.

You know it was professional and sweet of her to allow you space to call your significant other but you only stare at Tom's contact. Staring at the word ‘Tommy’ with almost all the heart emojis and his contact pictures of him with the biggest smile.

You have no guts to tell him right in the moment, but rather get off of the paper coated bed and grab your things to leave. Setting up a new appointment with your doctor to see more into the baby. Pregnant, with child, before competition. You and Tom were going to have a faimily.

July.

Tom still hadn’t known the news. It had only been a week but the guilt still ate you alive.

You didn’t want to worry or stress him. You yourself still tried to wrap your brain around it. A baby, every breath you took, every bite of food you ate, every drink you swallowed and every step you took there was a baby you shared it with.

You think about how every time tom had wrapped his arms around your waist this week he gently touched over the baby. Kissing your lying lips, you hated yourself for it.

As for competition, your mind nearly forgot. Still getting in the waters everyday with Tom but this time a bit more cautious. Everytime Tom worried for you, you quickly would cover his worry up with either a joke or kisses.

As for the throwing up, morning sickness was something that came in and out. You started hating the smell of bacon tom cooked in the morning but just waved it off. He noticed your decline in caffeine and beers and wines but you just told him the best athletes only had what’s best for their body before performing.

Tom believed all of it. Every single white lie you told—even though you hated yourself for telling them— believed them.

“How ya feeling?” Toms lips met your forehead as you cuddled up on the couch today. Extra tired and almost positive the baby was screaming at you for rest. You cuddled a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle.

“Mmh, just fine.” You give him a smile as his lips come down to meet yours.

Stealing some popcorn from the bowl, he heads over to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“I’m thinking we do shrimp tonight?” He looked over and you made a face.

“Ew, no.” You shake your head and he gives a furrowed brow look.

“What? You love shrimp!” He responds and you feel yourself growing hot. Hiding deeper in the Blanket and not wanting to show your face.

“Well, I��m just not in the mood for it tonight.” That was another thing, lots and lots of emotions. Luckily Tom had plenty of emotions to match.

“Okay...tuna?” He offers and you shook your head. “Steak?” Once again and no. “Chicken?” No. “Okay, love, you’ve gotta help me out. I know you’re not feeling well but I’m helpless in here.” He says and your eyes start to water. He notices and immediately comes over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he comes in front of the couch and crouches down to you. “What’s wrong?” He stroked your cheek and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle. “Seriously, I’ll help you. I’m thinking pasta.” You smiled and he did too.

“Yeah that’s not too bad.”

And so you two made and ate dinner completely normally. No tears from you, no sickness from you. Tom only talked about the waves out today and how much you would’ve loved it. Now you two spent time washing up.

“You think that one girl with red hair will be there like last year? She was so annoying.” You laughed as you got excited again for competition. Tom grew tense as you mentioned it. You noticed that. How he didn’t talk much about competition anymore. It went from the only thing you two talked about to now nothing. You knew how excited he was, the both of you were but suddenly it was like that excitement was put in a box to rest.

“Yeah...she was.” He kinda laughed but then just washed harder at the dish.

“Everything okay? You’ve kinda stopped talking about competition.” You put down your plate and that's when he took a deep breath.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He tells you, pressing his lips into a lying smile that you knew.

“Baby, you can tell me anything you know. I’m always here for—“ and with that, he cut you off and told you the words you hated to hear.

“I-I took you out of the competition,” Tom sighed, dropping the dish rag on the counter in defeat. He watches as your face goes from annoyed to shock. Anger builds behind the eyes he find peace in. “It was wrong me me to do so—“

“damn right it was wrong of you to do so!” You slam your hand on the counter. “W-why would you?”

“You were sick! You were so sick for so long and what was I going to let you do? just make yourself worse—“

“it was the stress! I told you it was the—“

The built up ignored tension between you both finally caused him to snap.

“Is your period being late stress too?” His words caused the room to be silent. You take a sharp breath as you stare at him with anger but not at him anymore, at the fear of your new life.

“I’m just late, it’s normal for a woman like me to be rhis stressed and late...” you trailed off and this time he had the red face.

“Bullshit. What happened at that doctors appointment.” He demanded. You didn’t say a word at first which only angered him more. “Damnit (y/n)—“

“I’m pregnant.” You finally cry out and he knew his thoughts could be true, he knew they had to be but the moment those words left your mouth his whole body froze. He went pale with fear and shock, his hand no longer gripping the counter out of anger but out of support in case he passes out. The tears that left your eyes were uncontrollable as you let out a sob, the first sob that snapped tom back into reality.

He didn’t think twice, his arms supportively wrap around you as he tells you sweet nothings to try and calm you and himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mumbled into your hair. You swallowed hard as you pulled back, your face wet with tears and you sniffled. His thumbs come up to wipe away each tear and each trace of mascara.

“Because I wanted to be normal still! I wanted to compete, I wanted to surf! I can’t surf anymore tom, i'm going to be a mom and I won’t have time for surfing.” You sob more and he only pulls you back into his grasp.

“I’m so selfish and stupid to even think to compete but I just want to n-not—“ you can’t even spit it out anymore.

“Who said you can’t surf when you’re a mom?” He moved back to hold your face. You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t going to force you to either. This was your decisions right now, he just wanted to listen.

“When you’re a woman and a mother, everything is for your child. You will have time to surf because you’re a dad but no one wants a mom to do anything but take care of their kid and I’ll love this baby so much, I will, but don’t want to lose myself. I’m young, you’re young and you’re about to be the next big thing.” You punch his shoulder playfully trying to lighten things up. “I—i-W-we’ll—“ you start again and he shakes his head.

“Don’t even say it. Sweetheart, you’re having a baby, our baby. I will make sure you still surf, when it’s safe, Of course. I-I don’t even have the words right now, my heart is racing, feel it.” He placed your hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. “You will be (y/n) Holland, the infamous surfer that beat Tom Holland twice last year and you will be the mother to our kid. Their badass mom.” He cracks a smile as his hand goes to your stomach.

A shared moment where he only touches the stomach as he learns about it. You look at him softly and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. As if he was a little kid at sea world for the first time, he looks at you with beauty and hope and a hint of thankfulness

“For a minute,” you speak again. “I thought you were completely calm about this.” You chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No, I actually think I’m going to throw up.” He held his breath for a moment before he moved to the trash can and emptied his worried stomach.

This time it was you rubbing his back and wiping his mouth. Maybe you wanted to roll your eyes at the Irony but you just knew he loved you.

Holland. He used the last name Holland on you for the first time you’d ever heard it. He said it so confidently as if you two were already married. Holland. You can get use to that.

Day of competition

there was this sort of shock in everyone’s face as they watched you walk in shorts and a tee. Joining the crowds of people instead of getting ready for the waves of water.

This year was no wetsuit with your board, slathering sunscreen on your face as you got ready but rather taking a seat in that sand just like everyone else. Carrying a baby no one knew about except you and Tom and a few friends and family.

Your body was warm with nerves, hundreds of cameras here usually captured the sea, interviewing the surfers afterwards. Although it was not like Hollywood, there was no TMZ or dailymail, but there was enough interest and news casters to tilt their heads for why they infamous (y/n) (y/l/n)—soon to be (y/n) Holland—took a seat with the friends and family. Cheering on from the sand.

“Hey.” Z snaps you out of your constant looking around, how your eyes never focused on one thing.

“Ease up a bit, babes, no one even knows.” She knew, you knew you had to explain to her when you were sitting out. Just as Tom explained to his brothers and the two of you both would explain to his mother after competition. For he knew the women would get so excited she would explode

“Right.” Was all you said as you started clapping with the rest of the crowd when the games begun. It would be a moment for them to get to tom, they always let the younger ones go first, you and Tom were in that fine middle where you had to wait just for the middle of the games.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Z asked with a hint of excitement to her voice. She kept it quite enough to where it was just you.

“I’m okay with either.” You didn’t ever care much for gender, although a girl would be nice to balance out the male testosterone you’re always around. “A girl would be nice though.” You smile at Z.

She gives a smile back, leans back on the towel as she soaks up the sun. “And Tom?” She asked and you shrugged.

He had talked about almost everything but a boy or girl, when you asked if he cared he told you,

“as long as they have two arms, two legs, a torso, a head, comes out of me with no trouble, then it’s a perfect surfing buddy.” You quote him exactly, smiling at his words from a few nights ago.

When he found out, his hands never left your stomach, even though you reminded him the baby was only the size of a grape. That well...it was just a bunch of cells forming up in the moment that couldn’t exactly kick for it had legs the size of your pinky nail. He still waited, he waited and waited, you didn’t even know what he was waiting for at one point for he would pause between his words at the baby or when he asked you a question he looked down at your stomach as if they would reply for you or before you.

“I know hes nervous as hell, but he’s so excited, I know it. The other day Harrison told me he cried when he told him. Tom, crying.” Z laughed a bit and you did too.

“If you think I’m the emotional one...turn on coco or inside out and see what happens to that man.” You chuckled as you turned your head back to the waters to watch tom with a smile on his face blow a kiss in your direction before getting on his board. Paddling out to the sea you watch him get ready to take the first wave, the crowd goes wild and your hand rests over your stomach.

This time, next year, you would sit on these sands with a smaller version of the two of you.

August.

Being early in your pregnancy but far enough to show was not as glamorous as people made it be.

Your shorts no longer fit, shirts started to get loose at the top and tight at the bottom and for the love of heaven you slept so much. Tom liked the idea of endless naps, somedays you wondered if he was the pregnant one instead of you. As he slouched around, ate just as many snacks as you and started to even complain about some of the same things you did.

Maybe it was the impact your moods had on him or the fact he stopped drinking caffeine since you no longer could have it and he didn’t know what his life was before morning coffee was with you. He was almost the same as you were durning the pregnancy.

“What are you doing?” Putting on a bikini for the first time since you told Tom. For the first time in about a month. You didn’t like the fit much anymore, the bloation you constantly had and the extra weight you now carried in your thighs, arms and breasts made you insecure. The top that used to fit perfect now had you grunting to tie. But you had to wear what you had to wear to get you in the water.

“I’m coming with you to the beach.” You say innocently and he shakes his head.

“You’re not picking up a board, you know that. Besides, the waters have been rough lately, there’s that storm coming in and one hard wave can hit you and I don’t want that to happen.” He exaggerates and you look at him with a dead stare.

“Tom, I haven’t touched the water in over a month, I’m pretty sure my skin cells are changing because of it.” You exaggerate as well and he comes up to you.

“Well, I’m not letting you in the water. It’s too dangerous.” He was serious, at first you thought he was just being dramatic, he was still going to let you swim but he was 100% serious.

“Tom, you’re kidding.” You scoff a bit and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I know a lot is happening—“ he starts and you move back.

“The doctor said I am healthy enough to be physically active and I—“ before you could finish he cut you off.

“The doctor said you could do some squats, leg workouts, lift a 5lb weight, that was the type of exercise he said. The waters are too dangerous, please don’t argue with me.” He pleads but your emotions get the best of you. Anger starting to build and your body heating up.

Tom had learnt one thing so far; don’t upset the pregnant women and that’s exactly what he did.

“You’re telling me to not argue with you when you are the one holding me hostage in my own home? God, Tom, I have a life still too! A month ago you said you understood what it was going to take and now you’re treating me the way I specifically asked not to! I’m getting in the water, I haven’t been in the water for months it feels like and that’s all I know—“ your rant continues but Tom isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at your side view in the mirror.

Your bump is showing, the bump he swore he could kinda feel but not see was now showing. Almost like it grew overnight.

“Fuck, Tom! Look at me while I’m—“ you start to yell again but he steps closer.

“Look.” He stares at the mirror and comes closer to your bump.

“Oh my…” you see exactly what he’s seeing. The small curve outwards that is your swollen stomach. Your bump.

“May I?” He asked and your mood went from angry to overfilled with happiness. Your eyes starting to tear ss you nodded.

“Tom, it’s your child too, you can touch.” You told him and he did. Your hand even went to your stomach as you rubbed over the bump that was barely forming.

“It’s like it happened overnight.” He laughed a bit and you did too.

“I swear it wasn’t there last night when I got out of the shower. I swear.” You let a few tears fall and he peppers soft kisses.

“I’m sorry.” He gently stroked at the stomach and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry too. I know you just want what’s best for us but I’m just…” you sniffle some more not being able to finish.

“I know baby, I know.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your back. Pulling you in for a hug for you to cry on his chest. So emotional over everything but he was right there. Right there with you.

“We can call the doctor about you surfing, we can call him right now if you want. But I just can’t lose you.” He gives a smile and you nod as your lips meet with his.

“C-can you order the chicken from the place I like?” You finally regain your composure and he nods.

“Of course, anything else?” He looks down at the stomach and you shake your head.

“No, not for now.” You smile down at the small bump forming. “Wait!” You stop him as he’s leaving to grab the phone. He turns to face a guilty looking you, “and mozzarella sticks.” You rub your stomach and he nods. With a faint smile he goes,

“always.” As that was your constant craving. Leaving you in the room for a moment and coming back to see you dressed back ins sweats and a tee shirt, Tom smiled and gladly cuddled up next to you, rubbing and talking to the bump about the future. Maybe you couldn’t surf, but you had Tom right by your side.

December.

Christmas cookies and sweetly salted popcorn occupied your side as you spent a snowy Christmas in London. No beach, no blazing sun even during the day, Tom took you home where you were now five months pregnant.

Heavily showing and to even think you wanted to go surfing months ago was laughable. You hated getting up to shower somedays for it was too much work.

“Darling, Angel, my pretty girl,” Tom sat next to you nervous with his next words. “I know you’re pregnant but there are only so many Christmas cookies.” He told you and you smacked his shoulder.

“Thomas, she’s pregnant! She’s allowed as many cookies as she wants besides there are more in the oven but pregnant women gets first pick as she is carrying my grandchild.” His mom immediately came to your defense. Taking so much good care of you while you were here, Tom doesn’t even think he got this much affection as a sick child.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing for her to eat cookies, I just want one!” Tom defended himself and you handed him a cookie and you felt your baby kick.

“See? They don't even want you stealing our cookies. I’m eating for two, I’m eating for your baby. You eat a lot by the way! Remember that summer you went through the whole fridge in a week? Yeah, now I’m eating for a tiny version of that! And myself! It’s hard out here for me and what did you do huh? Take two minutes!” You snatched the cookie back from him and rubbed your stomach. His brothers stifled a laugh and Tom grew red in embarrassment.

“I last longer than two minutes.” He says is a mumble.

Rolling your eyes, You rested your head on Toms shoulder and moved his hand over to the kicking stomach. “She says thank you.” You smile as you take a bite from the cookie.

“A she?” His mom perks up and the rest of the family does.

It was a mistake, you and Tom had a battle of the sexes. It seemed as if you didn’t want to know the gender right before your winter holiday. Or really the gender at all. The gender was available for you guys now but you both didn’t see it as a big deal. The baby’s room would be filled with ocean themed toys and a gentle blue wall Anyways. And besides, whatever they decide to be they would make the perfect surfing buddy. Although it was still fun to think of, You thought a girl and Tom swore a boy.

“No, mum, we still don’t know I promise. (Y/n) is just messing around.” He swore and the family relaxed again.

“He’s right, I am just joking. Tom is probably right with his assumption, thinking it may be a boy. With all this moving and eating, just like Tom.” You poke his cheek and Tom again flusters in embarrassment.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.” He told you and you kissed his temple.

“I know baby, I’m just teasing you. My man knows how to stay fit and sexy.” You playfully rub his stomach and suddenly the stifled laughs from the boys turn into disgusted noises.

There was everything to indicate a boy, well, mostly just a gut feeling. Tom's mother described her pregnancy with Tom to you and it was nearly the same. A baby boy, you could see that. You would need another fridge and a lot more paper towels assuming the babe will be like Tom and eat yet spill everything. You liked the idea of a boy. Plus, Tom had been playing a stupid game where he asked the baby questions making it kick for an answer. When Tom asked if it was a boy or girl, it kicked the moment he said boy.

The ding of the kitchen timer went off, more cookies fresh out of the oven and Tom was quick to jump up.

“Let me help m’lady up.” He grabs your hands and you grunt as you stand up. You walk with Tom at your side and once you are alone eating more cookies in the kitchen your hand rubs over your stomach as you feel the baby kick in excitement.

“Off the topic of gender, I think they miss the ocean. They kick so much just when I sit in the bath like they are having fun in the water.” You mention water and you feel a kick. They couldn’t understand, but they could hear and a smile rose to yours and Tom's face.

“Then they’re just like their mama.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Who knows, maybe once we get back I’ll get in the—“ before you can finish your sentence about surfing, a sharp kick to your bladder causes you to hunch over with a pained face. Tom worried as he held you panicked but you got back up with a deep breath.

“Nevermind, little one didn’t like that idea.” You hold onto his arms tightly.

“Everything okay? Just a bladder kick?” He panicked and you just nodded.

“Yup.” Your face scrunches up again. “Just the bladder.” You suddenly have the urge to pee. “Now shoo, I’ve got to pee.” You tell him and he looks at you in confusion.

“You just peed like—“ you give him a look making him think about how he’s finishing his sentence. “Right, my darling.” He moved out of your way to let you go. Snatching one more cookie from the tray, he smiled as he thought how next year at this exact time, you would be holding a little baby.

April.

One week. You were one week late and as any normal pregnant woman would be resting in bed and rubbing over her swollen belly and anticipating the child’s arrival. Although that was not what you were doing.

Against Tom's wishes, you went back to work to see the kids start up their surfing lessons. Although there would be no swimming for you, no waves for you just yet, seeing the kids happy to be there was something that sparked joy to your heart always. Helped ease your nerves and turn them into excitement.

“Mrs. (Y/l/n)-Holland, look what I learnt how to do!” One of the kids calls out. You had a smile for not only did they call you by both yours and Tom's name, but that they had always been excited to show you new things.

“That was amazing Ryder!” You clapped at the boy who did a handstand. He had a big smile with teeth missing. Your hand went over your stomach again, an aching pain that was noting but a false labor.

The doctor said it was fine. Women always experienced this right before birth and just take a deep breath but don’t waste your time rushing to the hospital just for them to send you home.

It was normal to be late and that you had a stressful year so it was okay. The doctor mentioned that you still felt contractions which meant you were close. But when it was Tom, every slight indicator of pain you felt meant a freak out where he rushed around the house to get the baby bag and try and get you in the car when in reality, you just had to pee.

“T-That’s really cool.” You wince and the boys face goes from excitement to worry. Within the luck, Tom comes jogging from the parking lot with lunch for the two of you. Hoping to get in the water with the kids and keep an eye on you.

“Hey Angel.” He kissed your cheek but noticed your pain. “Everything okay?” He panicked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder here was just showing me how he can do a handstand now—“ you can’t even finish as the pain was strong.

“(Y/n)?” Tom needed to be calm, your face scrunched up as you held your swollen stomach. “Darling, Angel, pretty girl, look at me.” He used all the pet names you liked and you looked up at him with worry in your eyes. “I think it’s time for us to meet the little one.” He nods with a trying smile and you feel an even sharper pain.

“Mmh, I can’t do this.” You breath heavily as you hold onto the stomach. “Yes you can, if you can surf a wave that is 12 feet with no wipeout then you can birth our baby.” He promised and also got the little boy who was so excited to show you his new moves a moment ago to run and get another adult.

“Tom, I-I can’t.” You felt yourself tearing up and he shakes his head. Your heart pounding and mind swarming with worried.

“You can, you will. You are the strongest women I—“ before he can start his motivational speech you cry out in pain.

“Get me in the goddamn car!” You cry and he nods and gets you up before anything worse. He rushes to the hospital as quick as he can, holding your hand and trying to not crash as you hold your stomach and scream.

When he gets to the hospital, he’s still in a wetsuit. They take immediate action into getting you into a room where you are laying with your legs up waiting for a doctor. Holding Tom's hand as you cry.

“Uh sir?” The doctor walks in and looks at the man in the wetsuit. “We’re going to have to ask you to put on scrubs...helps prevent any ourside clothing germs getting on the baby...are you wearing anything under that?” She asked and he immediately started unzipping.

“Jesus tom, not here, she wants you to get changed in the bathroom.” You shake your head as you run your hands over your face. In pain but want to laugh at your worried boyfriend for how he was acting in the moment.

“Right! Right!” He quickly changes from the wetsuit into the scrubs. The doctors look at him funny but let it go as you’re clearly in pain and needing the baby to be out.

“You got this love, you’re doing so good—“ he starts again but you don’t even want to hear it.

“was this really worth two minutes! I’m getting my fucking tubes tied!” You scream at him and he flushes a deep shade of red as one of the nurses giggles.

After one more big push you heard the sound of a cry filled the room. For just a second, all the pain you felt went away as you see the body of your baby, baby boy. You both were right, a beautiful little boy.

“A boy.” Tom breathes out in awe.

“Dad you wanna come cut the cord?” He looked at you for approval and you nodded. He cut the cord with shaky hands, couldn’t focus for the life of him as he just stared at the boy. You only got to hold him for a second before he’s taken off to a bath. Tom following them before they bring him back in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh my…” you hold the beautiful boy. His little lips open just a bit to make a sound while his eyes flutter to adjust to the light. “Look at him tom.” You feel yourself cry and Tom does too.

“Wow, look at you.” He touched the boy's cheek who immediately tried to take the finger into his mouth. “You did that.” He tells you as the two of you admire it.

“We did that.” You tell him and he smiles a bit. “Although yeah, it was mostly me.” The boy stares hard at Tom, Tom who was still in just swim trunks and scrubs.

“Hey, I ate a lot with you during this pregnancy. Even had my own morning sickness.” He teased and you only laughed.

The room going silent for a moment. Hearing the little cooes of your boy as you held him. Toms finger tracing over his cheek when you finally spoke, “Caspian.”

Tom had mentioned how he liked the name for a boy, more than once. It had connections to the water and to Europe so the child would have a bit of both. You had to admit to yourself that you liked it but just wanted to stick with a more casual name. But looking at how he looked at you the moment you said that name, you knew it was the one.

“Caspian?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Caspian Holland.” You told.

He smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Holland? Just that?” He asked as well and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” You smiled. A perfect moment in the perfect situation was interrupted by a small nurse who held a tee shirt.

“Uh sir?” The nurse looked at the two of you and both of your attentions were caught. “So unfortunately we have to ask you to wear a shirt, we got one from the lost and found for you hoping that it would fit.” The shirt read “I’m not as fun as mom” and Tom's face dropped. A proud smirk rises to your face as you look at Tom who’s flared his nostrils just a bit to show his embarrassment.

“Yeah Tom, put on the shirt.” You encouraged and he looked at you. His eyes telling you that you’re going to regret that but you can’t wait 15 years into the future to tell your son.

Sighing as he took the shirt from the poor nurse and sat back down on the chair in a huff.

“You’re never letting me live this one down are you?” Shaking your head you look back down at the boy,

“no, I don’t think we will.” You brought your dry cracked lips down to the boys forehead, you had no water within the past hour and screaming with crying seemed to make you as dead as possible. “Caspian. Caspian Holland.” He whispers again. “Thank you.” He looked at you and you furrowed your brows.

“For everything.” After months of no surfing, months of pain and aches, instead of saying anything back you looked at him and said

“sushi.” Was all you said and he furrowed his brows.

“W-what?” He questioned.

“I need sushi, please.” You sigh and he smiled. Months of being unable to eat any fish that was all you wanted in the moment.

“One California roll coming up.” He kissed your cheek and then the boy's cheek. Calling in the nurse, sending for a California roll and tuna.

Caspian was sleeping soundly in Tom's arms while you ate and rested. Everything was worth it, from the moment he stepped on a plane one summer to Hawaii he knew it was worth it for he found a family in the end.

June.

Once again the sand was squishing under your toes. Feeling each and every grain as you held your baby boy tightly bundled in blankets against your chest as you walked out to the beach. He was freshly bathed, you and Tom took turns. You were so eager the moment you were cleared to get back in the water after birth that the day the doctor cleared you for physical activity, you did it.

But tonight wasn’t you getting in the water, it was you greeting Tom and telling him to come back inside.

“Dinner is done.” You call out to him as he jogs back to the two of you. The baby boy cooing as he sees the ocean and his fathers dripping wet figure coming towards them.

“Hey, look who’s out.” He immediately leans in and kisses all over the pretty baby boy's face. “My sweet boy is so fresh and clean.”

You and Tom had argued about who he had looked more like,You or Tom. he had Tom's nose for sure and his big brown eyes that you knew were going to be trouble. If you had a hard time saying no to Tom when he batted his lashes and gave a glossy look, it was going to be impossible to say no to your beautiful boy.

“He just took a bath. But it wasn’t the ocean.” You smiled and Tom pressed a kiss to your face too.

“Mmh, did you?” He looks at the boy who was yawning in his mother’s arms. “Want to swim a bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

After birth, Tom did a lot of the work. He loved it too. He claimed you needed rest, in which you did, but you would often find him just sitting in the nursery staring at the baby boy. Telling him stories to sleep and kissing his face. He would let you surf, bathe, sleep, all while he took care of your beloved boy.

“No, I’m so tired I think if I use my legs any longer they will snap.” You give a pout and Tom immediately kisses it away.

Tom started to gather his stuff, the beach towel and the bag he normally carried and the moment he started to pack up your baby boy let out a wail.

Within the two months of his birth, you were able to identify each cry. When he was hungry it was more of a gurgle, when he was sleepy it was more strained and forced, when he craved touch it was a whimper sounding cry and then there was this. He was simply upset something did not go his way. May you or Tom stepped away for a moment, the bottle gone too early, but now it was his father packing up his stuff that makes him scream a cry that makes heads turn.

“What’s the matter bubs?” Tom pouts as he sets the stuff down and comes over to him.

Once the stuff is set down the cries settle just a bit, settle enough until tom takes him out of your arms and presses him up against his body.

Still wet from the surf, you both think the baby liked it. While Tom occupied little Caspian, you picked up the towels and his bag for him and once again the boy let out a wail cry which made you and Tom furrow your brows.

“I-I don’t know what it is. I-I changed him and I bathed him and he was perfectly fine and—“ you start to panic and as you panic you drop the stuff which calms his cries. Tom immediately took notice and grew a smile that made his heart flutter in his chest.

“(Y/n),” he stops you and you look up at him with a worried look as if you’ve done something wrong. “He wants to stay. He wants to stay on the beach.” Tom says in a calm voice and the boy was now only cooing in Tom's arms. He bounced gently but mostly cooed as his daddy smiled at him.

“H-He knows we’re leaving the beach.” You sigh and come over to the boys. Petting your sons head as he relaxes in his fathers arms.

“Like I’ve always said, just like his mama.” Tom smiled up at you and you caught his lips for a kiss. “Well…” you rub your hands on your thigh, wiping off the sand you got stuck all over your hands. “Since Caspian always gets his way, I better bring dinner out here.” You smile as you poke at the sweet boys face and Tom moves and has a serious face.

“(Y/n), no, you can’t just whip out your boob in front of—OW! I’m kidding!” You smacked his arm for the stupid comment he made that at first had you worried.

“I hate you. I’m bringing out the dinner.” You start to walk off and he smiles.

“You love us!” He shouts back.

“Just Caspian! You? Not much you. remember...you’re not as fun as mom!” You call out to him, sending him a wink and he wants to say something back but he holds his tounge.

Looking down at the baby boy he says, “when I teach you how to surf I need you to beat mums ass a few times while you’re out there. Just for her little comments.” Tom spoke to the boy and he cooes. “Atta boy.” With that he plots down on the sand towel.

Setting caspian down on the towel for just a moment so he can strip from his wetsuit and be closer to him. You come back out balancing the plates of food for you and Tom as you seat next to them and eat. Leaning your head on Toms shoulder and kissing at it.

You never knew that one competition, one amateur British boy and one shared basket of fish and chips could lead you to the best moments of your life. Could lead you to the best family you’ve ever had.

Please leave feedback! It helps me grow as a writer and lets me know what more you want to see!

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wolfish-trickster · 4 years ago

Text

Old oak tree

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,3K+

Warning: typos, angst, itsi bitsi fluff at the end

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @forevernthensome @kozkaboi

"So, what do you think?" Loki asked spreading his arms and showing you his new outfit.

You shrugged. "Looks good to me."

"Don't you think it's too much?" he checked himself in your mirror.

"Is anything EVER too much for you?" you asked with a smirk.

"I just...I really like her and I don't want to mess up."

"You won't, trust me," you reassured him.

He hugged you tightly, to your surprise. "What would I do without such a friend like you?"

The younger prince bolted from your room faster than you could answer. You sighed and closed the doors after him so no one could hear your heart breaking, again.

You and Loki were friends. Best friends actually. But you started to to see him more than that years ago. And you hated it.

You already accepted the fact he'll see you as only his supportive friend. If only he could stop asking you to help him woo his love interests. He always asked your opinion on everything. Flowers, his outfits, gifts he wanted to give them.

Once he even asked to kiss you so he could practice. It was in general your and his first kiss ever. Your head spinned when your life long best friend and crush in one person gently placed his lips on yours, his tongue sliding to your mouth. When he pulled away he just mumbled simple 'thanks' and ran away, leaving you flustered and with a face on fire under your favourite tree. At first you often sat under that old oak, remembering the feeling and smiling to yourself. However with every new interest of Loki you started to avoid the poor tree. Hate it even. You hated how it represented how you foolishly threw away your first kiss.

You still stood by Loki. What else could you do? Confess your feelings? As if that'll help.

You started to see pattern in his interests and you never managed to tic the boxes. You were only average among everything; intelligence, looks, skills. There were hundred and one people who were exactly like you. Loki would never choose you over a noble woman or man he was used to courting.

Now, when you were finally alone, you could think about what are you going to do about your never ending crush. You layed down on your bed and stared at your white ceiling. You already tried to avoid him in hopes you will loose your feelings for him, that didn't work. You wrote down every negative thing about him, trick your mind he isn't a good boyfriend material. Didn't work either since he is the kindest person you've ever met. And the gentlest. And nicest. With the most beautiful smile and eyes. And arms that give the coziest hugs.

"Fuck," you whispered and closed your eyes. It always ended like this. No matter how much you tried, you could never see him as something less than a great person he was.

Suddenly you heard his melodic laughter under your windows. As well as some girl's. You couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what? If he can date around, so can I!" you told yourself in pure desperation to get rid of the jealousy and pain from knowing he will never love you.

First thing you did was hiding everything he gave you as a child, every little trinket you cherished in false thought he's starting to catch feelings for you. You removed all of it from your shelves and put in a big box sliding it under your bed.

There, now onto the more complicated part: the oak of your very first kiss. Your heart ached with every step you took towards it. It was already old and not so full of life like it used to be. Its bark was dry and overgrown with moss. The poor thing didn't have enough energy to grow its leaves as viscoulsy like few years ago. No one visited it anymore. It was lonely just like you.

"Looks like you're few years from death, old buddy," you patted its trunk. "Let's end your missery now."

You were on your way back to your room holding a little pot filled with soil. Nothing was growing out yet, but in few months you were expecting a small oak sappling to grow. You couldn’t say goodbye to your old wooden friend just yet.

There, deep in halls, sounds are resonating. Sounds you soon came to hate. Kissing, Loki chuckling, some woman moaning, door closing.

You sadly looked down at the pot and took the biggest diversion to your room, avoiding coming any near Loki's bedroom.

Few days later you still avoided Loki. That time was the first time he had brought anyone to his bedroom to do....that. It was good he didn't ask you to practice on you. If he did, you would've.... you don't know what would you do. Probably panic first and get angry next.

While Loki was, let's say, occupied you got closer to one soldier, Arne. He was kind, tall, ginger with freckles and very skilled fighter. He wasn't the smartest but he had a sense of humor and always tried to make you laugh. He wasn't Loki though, but it didn't matter. At least you kept yourself busy, so your heart could heal.

Right now you were in stables with Arne. He was telling you how he got his first horse when he finished his soldier training few decades back. You were braiding his mare's mane as he stood right beside you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. Everything was at peace.

"Y/N! Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?" came Loki's voice.

Almost everything.

You turned your head towards his voice. He was rushing towards you until he stopped when he noticed Arne standing so close to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked a little irritated.

"Well-"

"It doesn't matter, I have to show you something," he took you by the hand and started dragging you out of the stables only for you to slip your hand from his and hugging Arne. "See you tomorrow," you waved him goodbye and walked out, Loki trailing after you.

"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"

"What the Hel was that?" he pointed at you and behind him at the stables, completely ignoring your question.

"A hug. Why?"

"Since when are you hugging random soldiers? And since when are you even hanging out with low ranking soldiers like Hofferson?"

"His first name is Arne, and I'm allowed to hug whoever I want. Same goes for hanging out. Now are you going to show me the thing or can I return to him?"

"Right," he remember, took your hand again and ran to gardens. To the familiar now empty corner. "Look what some bastard did," he pointed at the wide oak stump.

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? Oh, darling," he threw his arms around you. You fought with yourself internally to not hug him back, but being close to him after a very long time felt just too good not to give in.

"I'm so sorry. I know it was your favourite tree. I will find the culprit and-"

"You don't have to," you interrupted and pulled yourself away from him.

"I do! That tree meant a lot to me too. I was actually working on a spell to bring life into it again."

"And how exactly did it mean a lot to you? I never saw you even near that tree."

Loki stuttered. "E-ehm, we had our first kiss underneath it."

"As if that meant anything to you," you muttered.

"What?"

"I said it was old and it had to be cut down."

"Well you could've asked me before you killed it," he spat rather angrily.

"My family planted it, I get to do whatever I want with it!"

"Did it mean so little to you?"

"No. On the contrary, it meant the world to me! That's why I had to cut it down!"

"What? Why? I don't understand you," he shook his head.

"Well excuse me for wanting to destroy the biggest thing that reminded me how my best friend stole my first kiss!"

"Stole? I asked and you complied!" Loki defended himself.

You groaned. "Okay fine, you didn't steal it, I lost it. Now can I go back to Arne?"

"Lost it?! Have you got any idea how many people would murder for a kiss from a prince? And why do you want to go to Arne so desperatelly? You never talked to soldiers before, so why the change of heart?"

"I like him, he's nice and courageous and-"

"I forbid it."

"What?!" you couldn't believe your ears.

"I forbid it. You can't whore around with soldiers like him, think about your reputation!" he crossed his arms infront of him.

"Whore around? Look who's talking! You've had at least 5 lovers in the past month!"

"T-that's different."

"And how exactly is it different, Loki?"

"I-"

You waited. Nothing came out of him.

"That's what I thought."

Few days passed, you continued avoiding Loki and he started to close off from everyone. Occasionally you saw some green sparkles in a shape of a person sitting on the oak stump. You figured that must be Loki under cloaking spell. All you wanted to do was run to him and hug him, he looked so depressed and lonely. Just like you were when you saw him with all those lovers in the past.

You felt bad for him. But you doubted he felt bad for you back then. Or now. So you always walked pass him, pretending you didn't notice him.

*knock knock*

You looked up from watering your growing oak sapling. Who could it be? You weren't expecting anyone. "Who's there?"

"Guess," came a dull voice.

You put away your watering kettle and hid the pot behind courtains. "Come in, Loki."

He stepped inside wearing one of his ordinary clothes, his hair wasn't slicked back like he used to style it and he had apologetic expression on his face.

"Y/N, I came to apologize."

Loki is apologizing. Now that's new. "What for?" you asked teasingly.

He sighed. "For saying you were whoring around. It wasn't right from me," he pulled out your favourite flower from behind his back, "friends?"

You took the flower. "Okay, friends."

Loki clapped his hands excitedly. "Great, now that we're at good terms with eachother I-"

"No!" you silenced him. You knew there had to be a catch. He made up with you just so he could ask you for help. Just like always.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"Oh, I think I do. You want me to give you advices again. Well, guess what? That's not happening. So you can, as mortals say, do 180 and walk out that door," you pointed behind him to your bedroom door.

Loki held out his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask you that! I just want to talk."

"Oh," now you felt stupid. "Okay, a little talk never killed anyone I guess."

"Thank you," he let his hands fall down and took a walk around your room. "I see you were redecorating," he noticed all of his trinkets he gave you were gone. He assumed you most likely threw them out or burned them. Just the thought of it hurt him.

"Yeah," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself. "I still have them, I just didn't want to look at them anymore."

He turned towards you. "Why? First the tree, then my little gifts. What's next, me?" he joked to ease both your and his growing anxiety.

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "No, don't worry."

He walked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. "Then why? We're best friends, right? We can tell eachother everything."

"That's exactly what I can't do," you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and slowly removed them.

"Why? Do you... do you hate me?"

"What? Heavens no! I could never hate you!"

He sighed from relief. "Good. But then why? I can't think of a single reason you would do those things. Wait. On a second thought," he held his chin between his thumb and index finger and looked down like he always does when he was thinking. He shook his head then and chuckled to himself. "No, that's absurd. You could never be in love with me."

You involuntarily tensed up. He noticed.

"Or could you?"

Tears started burning in your eyes as you nodded. "Sorry."

"For how long?"

After few minutes of thinking you shook your head. "I don't remember when it happened. It just happened."

"Well, when did you realise then? That you...you know? Are in love with me?"

"Few days before the oak kiss, I guess."

"But that was decades ago! This long time and I never saw," he facepalmed.

"And you...?" you asked hopefully. Maybe he will tell you he loves you too, right?

He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N. I love you, but not like that. You have always been like a little sister I always wanted."

You nodded. Of course he doesn't love you like that. How even could he? You turned away from him and let some tears escape.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rubbed your back. "We can still be friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise."

But it already did. Everything changed for you. How could you even look him in the eye?

You wiped away your tears and put on a perfectly rehearsed fake smile. "Okay, I can work with that," you offered him your hand, "friends?"

Instead of shaking it he hugged you. "Friends."

You hugged him back and let your fake smile fall. Your naive little self told you he will change his mind in the future. You are already so close with eachother. Closer than anyone you know. It's just a matter of time. For now, you can only dream.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki angst #loki x female reader #loki x reader angst #my writer's block is finally gone and I can write again!#wohooo!#loki oninson #loki laufejarson #loki

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kalee60 · 4 years ago

Note

i wish you would write a fic where jock!bucky seduces twink!steve, maybe he hits steve with that pec flex guys do that is both dick-ish and insanely hot at the same time?

Oh Manda - you absolute gorgeous gem! I very much like what you're asking me to create here 😘 I also love, love, love that you sent me a prompt!

I immediately think of sun, summer, ice cream, boys at the beach playing frisbee and our gorgeous Smol!Steve and Jock!Bucky as friends mutually pining (Ha - it's me, it was never going to be anything but this story!)

Once again, my quick little drabble (that I wrote today when I woke up {thanks to my sprinting buddies in discord}) turned into a 4k fic... But I mean - I think that's okay (more stucky for us - right?)

I hope you like where I took this, maybe in a slightly different direction than intended - it's also on ao3 here (with all tags necessary) if you prefer to check them out and read there instead, it'll be part of my stucky bingo fills - Beach and rated M for mild sexual content 😉

If you'd like a fic - here's the post - I wish you'd write a fic... (It might take me a little bit to write - but I will get there!)

Steve was in hell, literally. It was hot, he was sweaty and he was being tortured. Honestly, Steve really loved summer, but at the same time he loathed it. And most of that had to do with the fact he had to sit around in his large group of friends and watch Bucky fucking Barnes sans top and wearing only a small pair of running shorts frolic over the sand at the beach.

Life was unfair.

How could somebody like Bucky actually exist in real time? He was a complete jock for starters, his looks and size perfect for being naturally great at sports, earning him a football scholarship of his choice (of course). And Steve, well Steve Rogers was as far from a jock as anyone could get. Not that he was horrible in the fitness and muscular department, but he was too little and his asthma still played up to join rugged contact sports. Being 5’4 also didn’t particularly endear him to any of the coaches at college who were scouting for star players. Plus studying to be a high school teacher probably wasn’t sporty enough, and he was leaning towards a specialist English role, not Gym.

So Steve joined the campus gym instead of a sporting team, did weights and classes and enjoyed it immensely. It was where he met Natasha, and that fateful meeting brought him to Bucky and his dickish jock ways and friends.

Though if Steve was to be fair (of which he was - usually) not all jocks were dicks, even if Steve had preconceived notions from high school what college boys would be like. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find that the captain of the football team was not only gorgeous, cocky and a bit of a douche, but also very smart, kind and had a smile that could make Steve’s legs turn to jelly with only a small half tilt.

But it was as he sat on a towel under the shade of a large umbrella that Carol had stolen from her parent’s garden shed, that Steve really felt the heat, and it had nothing to do with the blazing sun above him and the burning sand beneath his feet.

It was all Bucky Barnes and his chest, his slim waist, his tanned olive skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the thickness of his sinewed and muscled thighs that tapered down to calves that bunched up as he jumped and landed to grab the frisbee aimed at him.

Steve sighed heavily as his gaze lingered on the brunette. Bucky Barnes was every mans wet dream, every girls perfect prince, and Steve pulled his dark sunnies over his eyes again, ignoring the pounding in his chest, the throbbing in his groin as he watched Bucky behind dark lenses spring up and prance over the sand, laughing with a wide mouth that could do sinful things to Steve’s body. The worst part was that Bucky was doing all of this with no knowledge that Steve harboured the biggest crush of his life.

It really was unfair.

Sitting back to lean on his hands, stretching his legs out, he saw Bucky glance over at him, and gave a smile. Bucky grinned back and then grappled Sam to the sand to yank the frisbee from his grip. Life wasn’t unfair because Bucky didn’t date guys, he did, very much so, and girls too from what Steve had seen, it was just the guys Bucky dated were typically more like… jocks.

Steve hunched over, trying to not stare too long and inadvertently get turned on, finding it an impossibility as his eyes wouldn’t tear away from Bucky’s frame as he bounded effortlessly over the soft sand, something Steve couldn’t do. He’d almost lost a lung from the trek over to their secluded spot earlier that day. Soft sand was the enemy - that was fact.

“Heads up.”

Startled from his thoughts by Bucky’s deep voice urgently calling out his way, Steve looked up only to see the frisbee coming straight for him. With a reaction that even surprised himself, Steve raised his hand and caught the flying disc with nary a blink of an eye.

Bucky was skidding to a halt on his knees before him a second later.

“Shit, Steve. That was epic, you sure you don’t want to play? You can be on my team - my secret frisbee weapon.”

Steve’s mouth went dry as he tried to listen to the words leaving Bucky, because the delectable man was less than two feet away and the smell of sunscreen, sweat and something virile and uniquely Bucky entered his senses. Steve knew that if sitting next to Bucky in the dining hall was torture when Bucky was wearing his spicy cologne, he’d keel over being enveloped in his sweaty beach scent for longer than a minute.

God he wanted Bucky to fill him, everywhere. Make him forget his name, take him over and over.

He realised that he still hadn’t answered and heat crept into his cheeks, managing to blurt out, “I’m good for now. Nat’s grabbing ice creams and I don’t want to get a stitch.”

Steve then gave Bucky what he hoped was a soft and cheeky winning grin, but the way Bucky faltered, swallowed tightly, face impassive made Steve wonder if he’d missed the mark on trying to be flirty.

He really was as hopeless as Darcy continually told him.

Steve’s eyes trailed down to Bucky’s broad and lightly haired chest, finding himself breathing quicker, wondering if he’d remembered to pack his inhaler. No, he was sure it was in the pocket of his backpack. Thank god, he might need it in the face of Bucky’s glorious muscles moving in his vision all day.

“If you’re sure,” Bucky finally said in a deep steady voice.

“Maybe later,” Steve stammered, holding up the frisbee with a shaky hand. He had to get a grip.

“Alright, later then, I’m holding you to that.” And Bucky took the disc from Steve’s grip and was off bounding towards Sam, Carol, Thor and Maria.

While Steve recalibrated his thoughts, Nat came back holding only one ice cream cone, licking it slowly with a sparkle in her eye as Clint trailed behind, wearing Nat’s beach bag and carrying the rest of the ice creams, and Steve worried she’d overestimated his balancing skills. But if Nat asked, Clint would do - it was kind of amazing the power she had over him without even trying. Although they weren’t dating (yet), Nat was never cruel, she was playing the long game and really liked Clint, but had been hurt before by some Russian asshole, and Steve knew that Clint, when Nat finally agreed to go out with him would never be the same man again. He’d be lost in deep shock and joy. They were perfect for each other.

A pang went through his gut as Steve watched them, taking a cone from Clint, wishing he had someone that wanted him as much as they wanted each other.

“Vanilla,” Nat commented with a scrunch of her nose at Steve’s choice as he took a lick of the creamy goodness, the chill on his tongue welcome under the heat of the day. “You’re so very basic, Rogers.”

“Hey there is nothing wrong with that. I happen to love vanilla.” A rich voice said from right in front of Steve as Bucky flopped down on the sand, kicking up little grains that stuck on Bucky’s thighs where he was sweating. Steve shut his eyes against the picture before him, once again pleading to any God or Goddess that would listen that it wasn’t fair, that they had to find him someone one day. He just hoped it would be soon, else his dick drop off from Bucky unwittingly giving him blue balls.

“You’re one to talk, you didn’t even want ice cream, just a soda. And a club soda at that.”

Bucky looked over to Nat, flashing her a wide grin, and Steve immediately started to lick his ice cream just to do anything but stare at the crinkling in the corners of Bucky’s eyes, or to watch his lips as they wrapped around the bottle tip. He only half listened to their banter as they kept teasing each other, Nat and Bucky having been best friends from childhood, the reason how Steve inadvertently fell into the group of jocks, for a lack of a better term to encompass all the fit people he was now surrounded with.

Nat had introduced him to everyone after they’d hit it off at the gym in first semester, and Steve had waited for the inevitable teasing to commence about his small stature, but it never came. He was always included, never mocked (unless it was called for, because he was a facts man and couldn’t help correcting people when they were clearly in the wrong) and it was such a novel experience, so how could he not fall immediately in lust with the football captain? One who had smokey blue-grey eyes, sinfully full lips made for kissing among other fun activities and a personality that you could fall into and live inside forever.

“Err, Steve… your ice cream, it’s ummm, dripping.”

“What?” Steve asked, realising that he’d been swirling his tongue over the top of the soft confectionary and that his fingers were now completely sticky as the ice cream dripped over them on to his thigh. “Oh shit.”

Steve immediately switched hands and started to lap at his fingers, tongue darting between them to catch all the creaminess, sucking them into his mouth one by one, only looking up when he heard a muted groan. Bucky was moving before him, squirming in the sand, and as his eyes landed on Bucky, he startled, surprised to find Bucky’s hooded gaze directly on Steve. But his eyes hadn’t landed just anywhere, they were trained to Steve’s mouth, and as Steve swiped his finger through the sweetness that had dribbled on his thigh, Bucky’s gaze followed that finger's movements. Steve without thought, heart thumping hard, confusion and awe flowing through his veins, stuck the digit in his mouth, licking off the stickiness.

Thankfully, Steve had his sunglasses on, hiding his expression, but he knew his face was burning red at the brash and overt display. Bucky was watching him intently, the rise and fall of his gloriously thick chest heaved, and Bucky’s skin flushed from the exercise or maybe the sun. Steve wasn’t sure.

But it was as Steve licked around the base of the cone again, the ice cream melting quicker in the heat than he could swallow, Bucky’s pecs twitched.

Steve stopped all movement, caught at the tick of flesh, the way it bounced taut, watching with abject lust and desire as Bucky did it again - knowing exactly where Steve’s eyes were trained.

It was such a fucking dick move, a power move to get attention and Steve hated jocks who flexed like that, but on Bucky… on Bucky it was god damn mesmerizing. And it was after the third time Bucky’s pecs jumped, Bucky stood up abruptly and fled saying in a higher pitch than usual that he was jumping in the water, that Steve realised he might not have been doing it on purpose.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bucky was dead, he was going to die from being hard for... how long had he known Steve Rogers, six months maybe? Well, that was how long he’d survived with a non-stop boner for the blonde man. And he was at the end of his tether.

Steve was everything Bucky ever wanted in a partner, smart, strong, intense, funny, handsome and a person that he could fall into, spend time with - love.

So it didn't help his little issue to be at the beach that day, watching Steve sit under the huge umbrella on brightly coloured towels in his swim trunks and a loose tank with arm holes so big he could see all the way through to his muscular chest and pink nipples. It was driving him fucking insane.

Sure he’d seen Steve wearing an array of items at the gym, but he’d never witnessed him so carefree as he was at the beach. He was smiling more, relaxed, joking while big sunglasses hid those gorgeous eyes that would give the ocean a run for its money as to what was bluer.

But what killed Bucky that particular day over every other day he lusted after Steve, what made him clench and twitch all over was watching Steve lick up his ice cream. It was downright obscene, Steve shouldn’t be allowed to do that in public, or at least he should have a warning sticker on his person.

Steve had a mouth made for sucking cock, and Bucky wanted, no, he needed to know what having those lips wrapped around him felt like. Christ, he wanted to know what it felt like to be buried in Steve, maybe even have Steve press into him. Fuck.

There was only one thing for it.

He had to seduce Steve, and he had to do it soon.

But that begged the question - how?

How did Bucky capture the attention of the smartest, funniest, quick witted and grumpiest man on campus? Not only that, but to have Steve take him seriously? Bucky was aware that people thought he was only a dumb jock, that all he had to offer the world was to play ball and shit talk other teams and work out in the gym. Which, yeah of course he did all of those things - but he really was so much more. He was studying economics, was thinking about trying to specialise and work as an international trade specialist after college, and although Bucky really loved playing ball - it wasn’t his whole life. He’d never go pro - well, not without a hell of a lot of luck and persistence, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to take something he enjoyed and make it a living in that way. He’d seen how broken some sports stars bodies were after a career, and he still wanted to be able to walk at forty without having had three knee reconstructions.

But Steve, Steve saw through all of that, he spoke to Bucky like an intellect, like he had something worthy to say, to add to the conversation. Even at the gym after Nat had introduced them (Bucky begging to know who the gorgeous guy she was chatting to on the rowing machines was) Steve and he worked out together, had fun catcalling each other for being weak and helped each other with their forms - something Bucky largely did just to get hands on Steve even though Steve’s form was perfect.

Bucky had been taken with the slight man from the first moment he’d seen him, always under the impression that Steve was too smart to even think about dating a meathead like him, even if he truly wasn't what his physique made him. So he stuck with friendship, but now he wanted more. Was going to ask for more.

“Whatcha thinking?” Nat asked as she swam out to float in the water next to him.

“Nothing much,” He replied, ignoring her knowing hum. He hated that they’d been friends forever and she knew all his tells.

The much needed cold water had soothed his itching skin, and from his vantage point he could look back at their rag tag group of friends, able to stare unabashadly at Steve as he laughed with Clint and Thor about something, staring up at Thor as he... as he fucking flexed in front of Steve.

“Easy boy,” Natasha grabbed his bicep that was taut from clenching his fists, “Thor’s with Jane remember? Steve’s not interested in someone like Thor anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes swung to her immediately. “What do you mean? Because he's a jock?”

Nat let out an exasperated sigh. “No you idiot. Because he’s interest lies elsewhere.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s chest squeezed tight, wondering who had Steve’s undivided attention. And he couldn’t help but watch Steve as Carol held out a hand to pull him to his feet, and suddenly Bucky forgot his disappointment when Steve pulled his tank off, revealing a gorgeous toned body in all its glory. Bucky’s dick stirred. Thank fuck he was hidden in the water.

“You are a colossal idiot. You know that right?” Nat deadpanned.

“I have to ask Steve out,” he blurted. “I need to… I need to be with him.”

“I know,” Nat said with a smirk, and Bucky looked at her gratefully, if she helped he would be fine. “But that really sounds like a you problem. Have fun with that.”

“You horrible cow,” Bucky sniped back, ready to splash her, but she was already under the water stealthily swimming up behind Clint, only to dunk the unsuspecting man.

Bucky’s attention suddenly caught on movement on the shoreline as Steve stood knee deep, testing the water and with no further hesitation, dove in, coming up for air not far from where Bucky floated. Bucky watched mesmerized as the sun glinted off Steve’s wet eyelashes, before he wiped the droplets from them, smiling at Bucky.

“Oh god, this water feels amazing.”

“So would you,” Bucky whispered.

“Huh?” Steve asked.

For a long moment, Bucky stared at Steve, realising that sound carried over water differently and Steve most likely caught what he said. Seducing someone was hard, even though he hadn’t even tried yet.

Instead of answering, Bucky ducked his head so his mouth went underwater and swam towards Steve like a shark, deciding that he just had to ask him point blank, no messing around with seduction. Slipping up out of the water at the last moment he put on his most predatory smile, Steve’s eyes widening and he looked around, face flushed and Bucky hoped he wasn’t looking for an escape.

He quickly darted behind Steve, wrapping his arms tight around his lithe body, trying not to linger too much as Steve was the perfect fit, felt so good against him; and when he heard the small gasp from Steve’s throat he launched him into the air. Flinging Steve into the water a few feet away.

“You fucker,” Steve exclaimed laughing as he came up for air, and Bucky smirked.

Suddenly with a smirk of his own that made Bucky inhale sharply, Steve disappeared under the water, Bucky feeling him come up underneath his body and with a strength that belied Steve’s small stature, completely turning Bucky on more than it should, he was pushed up out of the water, throwing him completely under as well.

“Jesus, Steve. You should join the team.” Bucky spluttered when he came up for air.

Steve grinned back, pushing wet hair out of his eyes and Bucky stared, lost in how stunning Steve looked in the sunlight, that he was there before him alone in the ocean full of people, “I mean they already have you and Sam as Captains. Wouldn’t want to put either of you out of a job.”

Bucky laughed, “I don’t doubt you’d do it too, Stevie.”

And when Steve stopped smiling, Bucky realised what he’d said.

“Shit, sorry - you don’t like that? Nicknames?”

“No I... I do…” Steve answered softly, and Bucky became lost in a blue that matched the water they were treading.

“Would you get out with me?” Bucky blurted.

“Sorry? Get out of the water?”

Bucky internally facepalmed himself. “No, I mean go out.”

“Out. With you?”

Bucky nodded.

“Err, why me?” Steve asked in a small voice lost on a gust of wind.

Looking at Steve, who stared back at him with questions in his eyes, Bucky wanted to explain how much he’d desired it for months, to tell Steve all the ways he wanted to make him happy, and as a multitude of words sat on his tongue, Bucky suddenly understood Steve might not listen to his reasoning, might not believe him. So he decided to show his intent instead, and swam closer. Steve’s eyes were wide, guileless, Bucky seeing a small spark of something more, and hoping he wasn’t triple jumping over a line, he swam up behind Steve. He felt Steve tense up, anticipating to be flung into the water again, but instead, Bucky pulled him closer so that Steve’s back slotted against his front and leaned in, mouth only an inch away from Steve’s ear.

“Why you? Oh Stevie, you have no idea how gorgeous you are. How much I want you.” Bucky pressed his nose against the back of Steve’s ear and inhaled deeply, sunscreen, salt and Steve’s shampoo filled his senses and he lost his head for a moment, especially when Steve let out a high pitched groan and wriggled back into Bucky. “I want to spread you out beneath me, I want to lick all the sweat off your body, sweat that I'm going to cause from working you hard, making you work extra hard for my dick, because Stevie - I want you, I want you bad, and I think you might want me back just as much.”

Bucky hoped he wasn’t completely off base with his desires, that Steve really was just as interested, and when Steve ground back against him, skin sliding against Bucky’s, letting out another moan at the friction when he felt Bucky hardening up underneath him, Bucky knew it was going to be ok.

“Yes…” Steve whimpered as his shorts caught against Bucky’s dick, pushing backwards.

“You want that baby?”

“Fuck. Yes, I do.”

“How much?”

Steve spluttered, and Bucky couldn’t help chuckle at the noise. “What do you mean?”

“How much do you want it?” Bucky knew he was being a prick, making his pec’s tense against Steve’s back, pulling him onto his lap as they floated in the water, before wrapping a leg around one of Steve’s pulling it to the side, making Steve gasp gorgeously.

“A normal amount,” Steve husked back.

“Oh, you want me a normal amount - is that all?” Bucky smirked before licking a sloppy stripe up Steve’s neck at the same time as he snuck a hand down the front of Steve’s swim trunks, gripping his dick tightly, feeling the impressive length and girth for the first time. Fuck, he was definietly not taking switching of the table. But not anytime soon. First, he wanted to take Steve apart in every way conceivable.

Steve meanwhile, was liquid in his arms, going slack as Bucky took his time to explore while they floated in circles not far from the shore, but far enough out they wouldn’t get in trouble. He hoped.

The moans tearing from Steve’s throat were getting louder though, Bucky loving every noise punched out of Steve as he stroked harder under the water, the friction and pressure of the water making him slower and more languid than usual. And Bucky wanted to make Steve call out with no thought or boundaries, nothing to stifle his pleasure, he needed Steve coming in his arms, again and again.

“I think you might just want me a little more than that.” Bucky rasped against Steve’s neck, sucking a bruise onto his pink skin, giving Steve’s dick another sharp tug and before he knew what was happening, Steve was shaking in his arms, whimpering out a release and Bucky was speechless. Utterly speechless as he continued to stroke Steve slowly, carefully as he jerked in his hand.

“Holy fuck, you’re stunning, gorgeous, the absolute best,” Bucky rambled into Steve’s neck, nipping kisses and pressing his lips against him in absolute awe at what had just occured.

Suddenly Steve moved, spinning himself around to straddle Bucky and he went under for a moment as their weights shifted and came back up spluttering, only for Steve to launch himself so his lips pushed against his. Steve took over, devouring his mouth, and although Bucky was the one in control, holding them both up, he’d never felt so out of control as Steve writhed and ground down as best he could in the water. Shit, Steve was going to be a handful and Bucky was there for it.

As he kissed back, grabbing the back of Steve’s head, holding him still as he pressed his tongue in deeply, a huge beach ball smacked into the side of his face. They jumped apart with a gasp.

“Don’t make me go get the hose!” Nat yelled out as she and Clint swam around nearby. “It’s about time you dolts wised up, but this is a public beach with you know - families.”

Bucky watched as Steve’s face flushed a perfect shade of red, and he couldn’t help but grab him again, giving him a quick intense kiss, claiming Steve until he struggled for breath, to show Bucky’s intent was clear and true. It was pure perfection.

“We’ll pick this up again later.” Bucky promised.

“Later.” Steve replied breathlessly.

Suddenly Steve pushed himself away from Bucky, grabbing and throwing the beach ball, hitting Clint dead on the nose. The surprised yelp from both Clint and Natasha made Bucky laugh.

“Oh it’s so on, James,” Nat yelled out.

Steve piped up from his side, “you wish, Romanoff - we’re gonna take you down!”

Bucky beamed.

“Yeah!” he called over to them, dodging the ball that came directly for him as Nat and Clint shit-talked. And as he and Steve swam out to retrieve the ball floating behind them, Bucky turned to Steve and gave him an overtly salacious wink. “And once we take them down, I’m going to take you home and show you what going down is all about.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Really? That was incredibly lame, especially for a savvy sex-crazed jock.”

“You’re not interested in my proposal then?”

“Oh I’m interested,” Steve grinned, licking his lips and Bucky caught his breath. “But if you’re going to use dad jokes on the regular - I might have to start calling you something else in the bedroom.”

Steve then threw the ball, Nat ducking at the last minute, and Bucky didn’t even feel when the returning pitch slammed into his head; Steve’s words creating a delicious cacophony of images and filthy thoughts in his mind instead.

Bucky had always known that Stevie Rogers was going to be both the life and death of him, and as he rubbed his head, grasping the ball in one hand, ready to throw it, he couldn’t wait to see where their adventure would take them.

But first - Clint had to pay.

#stucky #mywriting #friends to lovers #college #bottom Steve #implied switch #beach and fun #melting ice creams are a real issue for libidos #gift for Manda - the best and brightest of them all #prompt game #kalee answers

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buckys-black-dress · 4 years ago

Text

a fine line, part two

a/n: here she is, our promised part two of afl!!! honestly i love writing this series and it has almost all my fav things in one fic, so yup. anyways, again, thank you for reading/sharing/liking my work !! luv u all, x -ali

wc: 5.8k !!!

The tension in the room was palpable.

And although no one knew you two were working together by verbal confirmation, it was clear from the way you were both reacting.

Bucky was rarely this quiet, so it was obvious what was going on.

Also the fact that you seemed frozen in place.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” Wanda’s soft voice filtered in next to you.

You nodded, trying to break away from James’ gaze.

“Mhm, who’re you working with?” You ask, moving away from the topic at hand.

“Oh, you know Professor Vision? He teaches Comp Sci.” Wanda is now visibly blushing, making you curious.

“Ooh, does Wanda have a crush?” Natasha chimes in as she sidles up next to you two. “I got Banner. How about you, Y/N?”

“I uhh, I got... Barnes.” You mumble under your breath.

“Who? I didn’t catch what you said there.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I... I got Dr. Barnes.” You said, not even daring to look up at your friends.

“...Oh. Well, that should be... interesting...” Wanda comments.

“...Yeah. It’ll probably be fine!” Natasha tries to comfort you, but there’s a stirring feeling in your stomach that almost makes you feel sick.

“He said there was no way to change it... right?” You ask feebly, trying to hold out hope.

“No... and I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Fury.” Wanda frowns.

“Great.” You conclude, taking a deep breath. “You know what, I can do this. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” You tell the girls, gathering your things and filing out of the office as people began to leave.

Wanda and Natasha were left watching your retreating form, staring at each other.

“I’ll be surprised if they make it to the end of next week.” Natasha says, earning a shove in her arm from Wanda.

Bucky watched you leave the office, and the gears were most definitely turning in his head.

You spent the rest of the week keeping mostly to yourself, trying to mentally prepare for what you’d have to face next week.

In the email sent out by Fury, he explained that you and your partner should have a lesson outlined prior to Monday so you could get right into teaching. He also explained that you would have to share all of your classes, and somehow correlate the two subjects that each professor taught.

English and History, seems easy, right?

Wrong.

Every idea you’ve emailed James has been shot down, and your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t like being unprepared, and the week would be coming to a close soon.

So naturally, you did what anyone else would do, and knocked on James’ office door until he answered.

“I’m comin’ jeez, would ya hold on?” You hear his voice, muffled by the door, until he swings it open, coming face to face with you. “What do you need, Y/L/N?”

“Oh, lovely to see you too, Dr. Barnes. I just wanted to know if you were actually interested in making our lesson plan. If we’re going to be spending the next few weeks together, we might as well have a plan. And I thought your input might be better, since you’re clearly not a fan of what I’ve shown you so far.” You rambled, moving to stand in the middle of his office, laptop in hand.

“You know, maybe if you sent anything good, I would’ve worked with ya on it. But I just don’t think your style of teaching fits me. It’s too... too intimate. You’re too far up your students’ asses. You get too close, too personal with them.” James explains to you.

You can only scoff at this.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, James, but my students and I have great relationships. If my students don’t like me, or what I teach, they’ll be more inclined to hand in subpar work. But if I make my expectations clear from the start, they’ll know what they have to do to earn an A in my class. That’s why my first two semesters here have been averaging with A’s all across the board.” You explain as simply as you can, because you felt like James was ridiculing you and the way you teach. You worked hard to get where you are today, and you know that’s why your students love coming to class.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds, trying to process the information you dropped on him.

“So... your students... like you?” He asks, tentatively, almost.

“...Yes? I know you don’t like me, so it might hard to believe that others do, but I don’t think I’m that unappealing.” You scoff, looking at the floor to avoid Bucky’s eyes. “Anyways, do you have any ideas?”

Bucky’s chest tightened with guilt. After the incident at the bar, he was trying to not be as rude to you. He was trying to be more humane, in Steve’s words.

“I... Maybe we can take a look at some of the stuff you sent before. Maybe if you explain it to me face-to-face I’ll understand it better.” Bucky says, and you nod. “Take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.”

As a few hours passed, you and James actually started a pretty solid outline for lessons. You started working on your first lesson, which would be the origins of literature. You could both talk about it, and you could both bring different aspects to the table.

“On average, how many kids do you have in your classes, Y/N?” James asks you, and your head snaps up at the mention of your first name. You had a moment where you imagine him calling you that way more often, making your throat run dry.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “my biggest class is about thirty students, maximum.” You tell him.

“Really? My smallest is forty...” He tells you, scratching his chin. “Also very male dominated, I’ve noticed.”

You freeze, trying to process this. It’s only ten more kids... you’ll be fine, right?

“You alright, there, Y/L/N?” James chuckles, to which you let out a weak one. You weren’t used to large crowds, they made you anxious, nervous, like you were losing your footing.

“I-I’m fine. Yeah, all good, let’s get back to work.” You tell him, focusing back on your lesson plan.

“It’s uh, getting a bit late. Thinking we should head home soon.” James looks at you a bit longer, trying to gauge your mood.

“Uh- oh, what time is it?” You ask, squinting and cursing yourself for leaving your glasses in your office.

“It’s almost 7:30...” He tells you.

“Oh, I have to go! Lucy, she’s been all alone, I have to feed her!” In a panic, you begin gathering your belongings.

“Lu- Who’s Lucy?” James asks in clear confusion at your sudden panic.

“My cat! Oh, poor baby, she’s probably wondering where I’ve been...” You trail off, making sure you’ve gathered everything you need.

“W-wait, can I get your number?” James asks, and you both freeze.

“M-my number?” You ask, not bothering to hide your shock.

“Well, we’re gonna need to discuss the lesson plan somehow...” He tells you.

“Oh... well, here...” You pull off a post-it note from the pad on his desk and quickly scribble down your number, handing it to him. “I’m not usually on my phone too much, so if I don’t answer within a few hours, try shooting me an email.” You explain, making your way out the door.

“Have a good night, James.” He hears you say quietly before you turn away from the doorframe, and he hears the resonating shutting of your office door not even five minutes later.

Bucky sits in his chair, not having moved an inch from when you left. He stares at the blue post-it with your number scribbled on it.

He picked it up, inspecting it further.

Your handwriting was neat, but flourishing and borderline cursive because of how quickly you wrote.

Bucky pulls out his phone and inputs the number, saving your contact.

Y/N Y/L/N

He then types out a message:

Just wanted to text you so I wouldn’t lose your number. Hope Lucy is okay.

And he hits send, deciding to pack up his things, trying to understand why he chose to include your cat in his message.

And on your end when you check your phone after parking in your apartment building’s parking, you see a message from an unknown number. You choose to not answer until you’ve made it into your apartment and feed Lucy.

You open your messages, staring at it. Something in your chest fluttered, but you pass it off as your hunger, waiting for your dinner to warm up in the oven.

Hi James. Lucy is fine, thanks for worrying. Have a good night.

You send it off, saving his contact but choosing to not look at your phone until after you’ve finished everything that you needed to do.

After finishing some grading, doing the dishes, and adding to the lesson plan, you decide to settle into bed with a book. You check your phone while brushing your teeth.

James Barnes: Good to hear. Do you think we could work on the lesson plan over lunch tomorrow? Just so we can get ahead of the game.

Y/N Y/L/N: Sounds good. Are we still going to also meet up after classes?

It takes a few minutes before your phone dings again.

James Barnes: Yep. Do you want to just come by my place after? Kind of getting stir-crazy in my office. We could also order food.

You stare at your phone. Are you going crazy? Why is he being so... kind?

Before you could even respond, another ping pulls you back out of your thoughts.

James Barnes: You could also bring Lucy with you, if you don’t want to leave her alone at home for too long.

Okay, now you were sure you were going insane. He was being way too nice. Where was this attitude a year ago, when you’d first met him?

But then again, it wouldn’t hurt, right? You were trying to get out of your comfort zone...

Y/N Y/L/N: Sure, that’s good. Are you sure it would be okay if I brought Lucy? I wouldn’t want to impose on your personal space.

His reply was almost instant.

James Barnes: No, I don’t mind at all. Alpine would love the company.

Before you could even wonder who Alpine was, you remember your previous conversation with Steve once.

‘Bucky also has a cat...’

Y/N Y/L/N: Okay, then I’ll be there. You also have a cat?

James Barnes: Oh, yeah. He’s the sweetest. *1 Attachment.*

Opening the image, you see a fluffy, stark white cat. He had big eyes that anyone would swoon over. You look at the foot of your bed where Lucy is curled up into a ball, fast asleep. You carefully snap a picture, smiling at her.

Y/N Y/L/N: I’ll admit, he’s cute. But can he compete with her? *1 Attachment*

You smile, seeing the typing bubble, waiting for him to respond.

James Barnes: Doll, no one can compete with Al. But I can’t deny, Lucy’s a gem.

Reading over the message at least seven times, your eyes keep lingering over the first word. Doll. It was in a loop in your head, the only thought you were having was that one word.

Why did he call me that? Is he flirting with me? No... he doesn’t even like me! But then why would he be talking to me right now? And why would he send me a picture of his cat...

And now your hands were working faster than your brain, typing out a quick response with your stomach doing backflips.

Y/N Y/L/N: Alright, whatever you say, Bucky. I’m heading to bed, good night.

And you don’t wait for a response before shutting off your phone and plugging it in, putting it on do not disturb and abandoning it on your nightstand, flipping open your book. You were trying to clear your thoughts but miserably failing.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky responded with a wide smile at the sight of you using his nickname.

James Barnes: Sweet dreams, Y/N.

That night, Bucky fell asleep with Alpine on the pillow next to him, but a wide smile on his face and his stomach full of butterflies.

Little did he know, so were you.

The next day, you woke up feeling like a brand new woman. You got a decent amount of sleep. You got out of bed and made coffee before you left the house. You arrived to school way earlier than usual.

To be honest, you didn’t know what was going on.

James was being nice. To you. Why the sudden change of heart? Or maybe he was going back to acting like an asshole when he sees you in person. You didn’t really know what to expect.

Honestly, what you expected the least was for a knock to be heard on your door, 15 minutes before your first class of the day.

“Come in!” You say, expecting a student or maybe Natasha or Wanda.

But the door swings open, and there’s James. He’s standing there with two paper bags, undoubtedly from the bakery down the street.

“Hi.” He says. Not offering anything. No explanation, no emotion. No indication of our conversation last night.

“Hi. Did you need something?” You ask, and for once, it wasn’t in a dismissive or cold tone.

“Uh, no. Just wondering if you’ve eaten anything yet today?” James asks, holding up the bags in his hand.

“Uhm... no...” You tell him, not understanding why he was asking.

“Oh, well I have an extra croissant, if you’d like.” He holds up the bags once again.

“Sure, you can sit in here to eat if you’d like...” You offer, not sure of the water you were treading in.

“Oh, thanks.” He sits down and you both pull out the pastries and start eating. “So, how’s Lucy today?” James asks, a slight smirk on his face. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or not.

“Uh, she-she’s good. Clingy as usual. How’s Alpine?” You return the question.

“Same for him, also clings to me like a koala when I leave, I always feel bad, but I don’t really have a choice.” You both giggle at the remark, nodding in agreement.

“I understand. Lucy’s still a kitten too, so she’s been getting attached a lot. But I think I need her just as bad as she needs me.” You tell him, and you don’t know why.

“Oh... no boyfriend?” James asks, and now you really can’t tell if he’s pulling your leg.

“Oh-” You giggle, covering your mouth. “That’s funny. No, no boyfriend.” You continue to laugh until you fall back into silence, and James is just watching you.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, genuinely perplexed at your reaction.

“James, I don’t think either of us are idiots. I don’t think I come off as girlfriend material to most guys.” You laugh again.

It became quiet, and you look back to your computer, ready to end this awkward conversation. You knew you had your insecurities, but it had always been hard for you to put yourself out there. Especially for guys. Your anxiety and introverted nature really put a pause on your already non-existent dating life.

Besides, you’ve always been alone. And you didn’t think that would be changing any time soon.

“Okay, well I’m gonna head out. I have a class to prepare for. See you tonight?” James asks, getting up from his seat across from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll see you then. Could you text me your address and what time I should be there?” You ask, also gathering your lecture notes and laptop.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Bye.” He waves, leaving. As soon as he steps out, you hear the clicking of heels against the laminate flooring.

“Why was Bucky in here?” Natasha’s gravelly voice asks, looking confused as ever.

“He just brought me a croissant, we were talking about our lesson plan for next week.” You explain to her. “Walk with me to my lecture?” You ask, pointing out the door.

“Sure,” she agrees, waiting for you to lock the door, “so, have things been... civil between you two?” Natasha asks tentatively.

“Actually, yes. He’s not all that bad. I’m going to his place after classes to work on the lesson plan, he asked me yesterday to even bring Lucy over so she could meet Alpine.” You tell her.

“Oh- wow, really? He’s being so... nice to you...” She responds.

“I-I know... I don’t understand why... He made it clear he doesn’t really enjoy my company.” You respond.

“Yeah... Well, this is new. I hope he keeps up with it.” She pats you on the shoulder as you reach the lecture hall.

“Yeah, me too.” You say, turning to her before going in.

“Hey, can I stop by your office for something at lunch?”

“Sure, see you then!” You tell her, setting up for your class.

Lunch time comes around, and Natasha was already waiting for you when you finished your class by lunchtime. You remembered James also asking to come by to eat with you and work, so you tried to make it quick with Natasha.

“So, you and Bruce already finished your lesson plans?” You ask, looking for a booklet she needed.

“Yeah, he’s fun to work with. Kinda a nerd, but he knows his shit.” She says, smiling and leaning against your desk. “Any reason you’re in a rush?” She asks, catching you off guard.

“Oh, uh, James is coming to eat here so we can get ahead on the lesson.” You tell her, looking back through your drawer.

“That’s... interesting.” Natasha’s brows were drawn together. “You two seem to have a lot of time allotted together.”

“Well, we have only a little of our lessons done, and we really don’t want to show up unprepared. You know how much I hate that.” You tell her, finally finding what she needed.

Outside your office, James was just about to walk in when he heard your voices.

“Yeah... Just wondering, did he ever... apologize for what he said that one night?” Nat asks.

“Uhm, n-no. He’s been really kind to be as of late, so I’m assuming we’re turning a new leaf... But he makes me... nervous sometimes. Just a few days ago, he wouldn’t even look at my lesson plan ideas. He looked like he would rather violently bash his skull in than work with me. I’m just- I’m confused. What made him change his mind?” You think out loud, really wondering if James’ behavior was genuine.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been through a lot, but I think you should give him a chance. Don’t be so weary. If he’s being nice, don’t question it. I don’t know why he was like that with you from the beginning, but you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over the fact that he’s actually treating you with respect.” Natasha puts her hand over yours, meeting your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. I know. I know I deserve respect, but it’s been hard lately. Ever since my family stopped talking to me, I feel like a failure. They don’t understand that I deserve that respect either. They think teaching is a shit job, they think I won’t get anywhere in life with it. I’m just sick and tired of them acting like I didn’t work hard to get where I am today.”

I talked to my brother the other day, and he said the same thing they’ve been saying since I started my PhD. ‘You’re not gonna get anywhere with this, you should get a boyfriend, we want grandkids.’ Like, okay! I get it! But where the hell am I supposed to find a guy when the cute one doesn’t even like me!? And my last boyfriend was in my undergrad. I feel a like teenager. I have literally no romantic life.” You huff out, absolutely tired of this.

“I- Y/N, I’m so sorry. You deserve a family that’s supportive of you and your passions. I hope Wanda and Carol and I have maybe helped you, kind of like a work family, y’know?” She holds your hand tighter. “We’ll always be here for you.”

You smile, walking around your desk to hug her.

“Thank you, Nat. I appreciate you all so much. I don’t think you’ll ever really know.” You hug her tightly before letting go. “James should be here any minute now, but we’ll talk more after class?”

“You betcha, but don’t think I forgot what you said... Maybe he does like you.” She says, and your face turns beet red.

“Natasha, no. I think he’s made it very clear he’s not into me. Like, at all. I’m surprised we’re even working together. I didn’t think he would cooperate.” You laugh. “Okay, seriously, you gotta go. I don’t want him to walk in on us talking about him.”

“Okay, okay, talk later. Bye, Y/N.” She says, making her way out, and Bucky pushes himself against the wall, hoping she wouldn’t see him.

“Don’t forget what we talked about, yeah?” She says to him, not even looking back. Natasha only stops when she doesn’t hear his response, turning around. “Listen to me, Bucky. We may be friends, but so are Y/N and I. I don’t know if it was me or Steve who finally knocked some sense into the dumb head of yours, but if she comes to me again, crying, telling me she can’t take it from you anymore, I promise; you’ll be off this faculty faster than you can say ‘tenure.’ Now, am I understood, Barnes?” Natasha concludes, completely in Bucky’s personal space.

“I- yes. I understand.” He gulps, looking down at his hands. “I-I’ve been trying. To be nice to her. I know what I did before was wrong, but I’m trying, okay? Steve and I had a... a long talk.”

“Yeah, whatever. This better not just be a one-time-thing. From here on out, I want no complaints from her. She’s been through enough shit, and she doesn’t need any more from you. I have somewhere to be, and so do you.” Natasha says, parting ways and letting Bucky release a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

He composes himself one last time, and walks into your office.

“Hi, James.” You give him a soft smile, “Take a seat, we’ve got work to do.”

When your last lecture finished, you made your way home to get what you needed to head to James’ apartment. He’d texted you the address and told you you could come by any time after 6:30.

You were thinking back on your lunch break with him. He was quiet, almost nervous to be sitting in front of you, and you couldn’t understand for the life of you why.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so demure, and you wonder why he was suddenly so shy. Before, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make a remark, or take a jab at you. But now, he was quiet as a mouse.

It was concerning, to say the least.

So, on your way to his apartment, which was a solid 15 minutes drive, you call Natasha for advice.

“Hey. Can I talk to you about something?” You ask while you drive.

“Yeah, everything alright?” Natasha’s voice filters through your car’s speakers.

“Oh, I’m fine, but did something happen with James? He was acting so... odd today... He was so quiet, so nice. His behavior has been so different lately.” Your brows were furrowed, genuinely trying to crack this puzzle.

“Uh... well, isn’t it a good thing?” She asks.

“I mean, yes, but did someone say something to him?” You ask, puzzled.

“Uh, no...” lie, “maybe he’s just turning over a new leaf, Y/N. I think you should stop worrying yourself over it so much. And if you really want answers, just confront him about it.” Natasha concludes.

“...Okay. You’re right. I think I’m just reading too much into this. I need to go, I’m almost there. Thanks, Nat.” You tell her.

“Bye, Y/N. Good luck.” And the line goes dead.

“Looks like it’s just me and you now, Luce.” You look over at her carrier in the seat next to yours, where she’s curled up into a ball inside.

Once you park and text James to let him know you’re on your way up, you sling your laptop bag over your shoulder and grab Lucy’s carrier.

As you make your way inside, you stop at the concierge desk, where an older man with grey hair and glasses greets you. His name tag reads Stan.

“Hi, I’m here to see James Barnes?” You tell him, looking at the grandiosity of the lobby.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asks, and you nod. “He said he was expecting you. Not that I don’t trust you, but I just need a form of ID before I can let you up.” You nod again, handing over you driver’s license.

He hands it back, giving an approving nod.

“Elevators are to the right, he’s in 12B.” Stan tells him, and you give him appreciative ‘thank you’ before you scurry to the elevator.

When you knock on his door, it takes a second for him to open it, a faint ‘Al, one second!’ resonating through the door, making you snort out a laugh.

“Hey, sorry about that. Come in,” Bucky finally appears, swinging his door wide open.

You walk in, setting down Lucy and taking your shoes off.

“So, is Alpine friendly with other cats?” You ask, weary of unzipping the carrier.

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” He asks, but stops when he sees your expression fall.

“S-Sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply anything, It’s just- Lucy’s a bit shy, but she typically likes other cats.” You say, looking down at her.

“I-I’m sorry- that was rude. I wasn’t trying to sound like an ass, I swear. Alpine’s friendly with other cats, but he needs a little time to warm up to other people. Don’t take it personally if he isn’t too fond of you at first.” He laughs, directing you to his couch where Alpine was perched.

“Oh, hi baby!” You coo, holding out your hand to Alpine. He tentatively inspects you with his eyes, first, and then sniffs you. He then, his head buts against your hand, asking for affection.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up, shocked at how friendly Alpine was being. He barely even looked at Steve and Sam when they come by. But here he was, purring and shoving himself against you.

“Well, I think Lucy won’t have a problem with him at all.” You smile, bringing the carrier over to the end of the couch and unzipping it, letting Lucy move at her own pace.

At first, she just wearily looks at Alpine and the unfamiliar setting. She then looks at you, where you encouragingly coo at her, making sure she was comfortable.

Bucky gazes at the whole scene with a soft look, watching as Lucy slowly saunters out of the carrier, sniffing Alpine and the couch. Soon enough, Alpine sniffs back, and they start playing with each other, forgetting their owners completely.

You both laugh at how well they were getting along, and the contrast between the black and white furs making it that much better.

“Well, should we get started?” You ask, finally turning to Bucky with a big smile.

In that moment, his throat goes dry, and all he can think is... She has a beautiful smile.

“James? Everything alright?” You ask, breaking him out of his trance.

“I- Yes! Sorry, got distracted for a minute... Would you prefer Italian or Chinese for dinner?” He asks, shaking his head and trying to change the subject.

“Uhm, I don’t mind, whatever you’d like.” You smile, grabbing your laptop.

“So... Italian, then?” He asks with a light laugh.

“Sure.” You answer. “Where can we sit to work?”

“Oh, the table’s fine, we can eat while we work, too. Let me go order really quick.” He excuses himself after pointing to his dining table, and heading into the kitchen.

When Bucky reaches the kitchen, he takes a second to compose himself. He pinches in between his brows, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know why he was acting like a teenager, he felt himself get flustered around you.

After he pulls himself together, he orders the food and comes back outside, finding you focused on something extremely intently on your screen.

“James, what do you think for something like this for a more interactive activity?” You ask, turning your computer to him, waiting for him to read the plan, biting your lip nervously.

“This- this is awesome, doll. This looks really good, the students would love this.” He tells you, reading over it one more time.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You thank him shyly, stomach fluttering while looking down at your lap again.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, breaking the silence.

“Oh, the food-” James moves to grab his wallet, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“James, you’ve already been so hospitable, let me get it-” You say, but he shakes off your hand and shakes his head.

“No, I can’t let you do that, I insist,” he responds, beating you to the door and handing the delivery man his card, letting him ring it up quickly.

You huff, sitting back down in your spot with a pout.

“James, you suck,” you huff, visibly annoyed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did. Now, let’s eat. You good with red wine?” He asks, pulling out two wine glasses.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You say, unpacking the food as he pours some wine.

As he sets down some plates, he sees your expression still pouty, like a child.

“Y/N, stop pouting.” You look so cute. “You can get it next time.” I wish I could kiss you.

“Oh, there’s gonna be a next time?” You ask, your face turning red yet again.

“I mean, we’re going to have to make more lesson plans, depending on how long Fury keeps this up.” He laughs, but you freeze at his words.

It’s true, you think to yourself, we’re probably going back to how it was before when this is all over. That’s probably why he’s being nice to me.

“Hey, you alright? Did I say something?” James asks, a concerned look on his face.

“N-No, you’re good. Sorry. Ready to eat?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Yeah... You sure everything’s okay?” He asks again, trying to make sure.

“James, everything is okay, please. Let’s just eat.” You smile, placing a hand over his in reassurement.

Dinner was delicious, and now you and James were sipping on wine while working, occasionally checking on Lucy and Alpine.

“Hey, do you think a group project could work? I usually give some to my students, I have a template I follow, but you could change it to your liking-” James tells you, but you cut him off with your thoughts.

“James, can I ask you a question?” You ask, hovering a hand over his.

“S-Sure. What’s up?” He sounds weary.

“You know, before we started this project, you like... loathed me.” You say. “Why?” Your voice breaks at that last word, barely getting it out of your throat.

“I... I just-” He takes a deep breath and looks down, grabbing your hand, “I thought you were... snobby, stuck up. I thought you came to this school thinking you were better than everyone else, that you were here to one-up us all.”

And before you could cut him to deny it with your shaking head, he continues.

“And I know now that I was wrong. I-I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you, especially at the bar. After you left and Steve took me home, he basically yelled at me and told me how what I thought of you was completely off. I shouldn’t have assumed all those things about you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, one day.” He concludes, holding onto your hand so tightly to convey just how sorry he was.

“I- Oh, James. Y-You know, I never meant to come off that way. I just- I’ve always had trouble making friends and talking to people, and things have been hard recently. I never meant to make you o-or anyone else, for that matter, to feel that way. I’m so sorry.” You say, tears prickling behind your eyes.

“Y/N, doll.” James moves out of his seat, wrapping you in his arms. “I can’t even tell you how much I wish I was more open-minded, more patient. Ever since Steve and Nat have talked to me, I’ve been just-”

“Nat? What has Natasha told you?” You stop him, pulling away.

“She- she just told me to stop. She told me you’ve been going through a lot, and that I wasn’t making it any better for you so-”

“Did she say what? Why would she tell you about my personal life-” You begin to ramble and waving your hands around.

“Doll, no she didn’t-”

“She had no right to say-”

But before you could continue, Bucky cuts you off.

With his lips.

Against yours.

Bucky was kissing you.

Oh my god, he’s kissing me!

You pull away looking at him in utter shock.

“Wh- What did you do that for?”

“I just- You were rambling, but I didn’t know how else to stop you.” James says, a blush creeping up his neck.

“So you kissed me?” You ask incredulously.

“Uh- yes?” He says, more like asks.

“I uh... I have to go.” You say, looking anywhere but his eyes as you gather your items, hunting down Lucy and putting her in her carrier; much to her protest and distaste.

“Y-Y/N, please, don’t go. Let’s just talk!” James pleads, but you’re not listening.

“N-No, I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you in class next week. Bye, James.” You huff out, running to the nearest stairwell.

A part of you wanted him to run after you, but you needed time to process... whatever that was.

Did he kiss you because he liked you? Or because he wanted to shut you up?

You cut the drive home into half, the first thing you do after getting through your door is calling Natasha.

“Nat, I fucked up...” Your voice was weak through the phone.

And back in Bucky’s apartment, he dialed Steve’s number.

“Steve, I fucked up... real bad.” He meekly provides, his head in his hands.

a/n: oh boy. what’s gonna happen ??? hmmm... let me know down below! hope you guys enjoyed ;)

also, did y’all peep my stan lee cameo? :)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #prof!bucky #professor!bucky #prof!bucky x prof!reader #college professor au #enemies to lovers #bucky and alpine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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headmastermephistopheles · 4 years ago

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You know...the woman I fell in love with was a siren like you." The male spoke finally after a while, clock ticking close to twelve at night. Light cigarette smoke hung around the ceiling fan but didnt disperse.

Levi lifted the glass of whiskey close to his mouth as he took a sip of the burning yet finely aged alcohol which cost probably more than salary of average hardworking man. The pale pink slightly chapped lips of his were in her eyesight as she admired the curves of his well sculpted face and sharp features. She had no doubt he was a man of great strength as he was known for being the strongest man in the country. Hard to believe since he was by no means hulking in size nor stature, easily average in height in fact. His small size however was not to be underestimated by any means.

He was impressively build and he was made of hard muscle from head to toe from all of his years in the army. If his strong form did not impress then his speed and agility took the breath away from anyone with fighting experience, since levi was an undefeated champion in the fighting scene. He was a lion among gazelle and he knew it very well and used his position shamelessly to get what he wanted. His attention was sorely on his whiskey this time and not even the most beautiful of women could get him to shift his stormy eyes off of it. Why was this raven haired soldier sitting in a bar instead of celebrating his latest conquest in Maria district was beyond human comprehension and made the bartender raise a brown. Farlan had seen his friend in many moods during their long years of friendship but this night took the cake with Levi's melancholy posture and thoughts deep in his head. Levi wasn't a man of talk and he rarely spoke of his emotions to his friends but this time his silence was concerning to farlan. Levi was upset.

" I'm sure I can provide you with a great distraction corporal~" stared a young woman in a striking red dress that was far too short for Levi's liking. He appreciated that some left things for the imagination and did not show off every asset they had. It was cheap to his taste and he loathed cheap things after years of suffering in poverty and lack of everything.

They say once you've tasted a good aged wine you do not wish to ever drink anything less. And to levi this woman was a low cost wine that no doubt tasted like piss water to him rather than wine. He had once gotten a taste of perfection and now it was eating him alive.

That one woman he had held in his grip for a moment had taken everything from him in a heartbeat. His breath and his heart, his desire for other beautiful things and his taste for wine price ranked lower than hundred bucks. That h/c siren with the eyes of clear e/c so vibrant he could see a world in them. Skin so soft it drove him insane with thirst as if he hadn't drank anything for years making his tongue dryer than the Sahara.

Lady in f/c dress and red painted lips he had kissed. Little did he know they were poisoned. Levi did not fall in love often or if at all but he did love her, the beauty from siganshina. Y/n was her name he spoke in his dreams at night and in his drunken haze.

That one woman drove him mad.

She was his most beautiful daydream and his biggest nightmare, legs going on for miles when he ran his hands on the spotless s/c skin.

He had dreamed of her soft fingertips trailing thr scars on his neck as her soft lips pecked his collarbone. He was often so under her spell that the rest of the world became just a buzzing noice in his ears. Her soft voice usually drowned those out too quite quickly.

He could admit she had been his drug that gave him freedoms he never had before. She was what he had craved for years now. How did it come to this he often wondered. Him sitting alone in his friends bar in throst district, drunk off his wits and harlots flying around him like attention starved dogs that he saw everyday in his time at the underground.

He felt almost disgusted at the looks he received from those girls, those innocent naive little brats from the safe and ordinary throst district. They had barely any idea what real life was like not to mention had they seen a day of real work. Y/n l/n was a real woman , not a little girl with head in the clouds and hoping for an officer between her legs not at all. She was a true hardworking woman from the streets like him, worked her way out of that garbage and into the elites. Of course he knew she wasn't by any means innocent dear no. He wasn't stupid.

She was a seductress from the dark corners of his imagination. Levi knew it was not a good idea to mingle with a toxic woman but he couldnt help himself. After all love was love no matter how hard one tried to deny it.

The corporal lifted his hand and showed two digits to his friend. Farlan nodded quietly and prepared him two more drinks as requested. The woman who had approached him so boldly was now ignored and she had to back away flustered and embarrassed out of her mind. Levi gave no second glances to the giggling women in the corner and drowned his drink smoothly with a scowl so often on his face that it no doubt belonged there.

Levi Ackerman did not bring any company to his luxurious but very bland room that night. He had no desire to sleep with the wolves tonight.

This is little something I wrote for a great friend and awesome writer ! If you love yandere levi stuff check them out!

@captainmcslashypaws

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 4 years ago

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Boku no Hero Academia - Safe In My Arms

I apparently only wrote two drabbles for my Patreon in 2020, but given the state of the world at the time, I hope I’m forgiven for that. A new year is here, however, and that means last year’s writing can now be seen by all of you! If you want to see more stories like this before next year, then consider pledging to my Patreon!

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Shinsou Hitoshi

Rating: Teen Audiences

Summary: Present Mic runs one of the biggest radio shows in Japan and it's common knowledge that his phone is firmly turned off during broadcasts -- except for the numbers he allows through. When one of those numbers calling is a familiar student, Hizashi knows that his night is about to get a lot more serious.

Word Count: 2,239

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Check out my writing commission information here! Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content! Or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!

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“Goood evening my dear listeners! Welcome to another show of Put Your Hands Up Radio! here with your wild and favorite pro hero Present Mic as your host! Tonight, for those of you who remember our last show, we’re talking all about Quirks! Rare quirks, weird quirks, creepy quirks, villain quirks, hero quirks and everything in between!

“So grab those phones, get our number ready to go, and call in with questions, stories, and your wildest quirk-related memories. And remember, we here at Put Your Hands Up Radio! are not responsible for any slapping, hitting, punching, kicking, and-or screaming that happens if you rat someone out on live air. Choose your victims wisely, dear listeners, and remember that this show broadcasts to all of Japan.

“First, though, we’re gonna start things off like we always do by rocking and rolling! Keep those hands of yours up and those cheers wild as we start the night off right! Here’s Telecaster Stripes by POLKADOT STINGRAY!”

Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, couldn’t stop his grin as he flicked the right switches in order, killing his mic and switching on the first song of the night all without even a second of dead air. The music filled his headphones and studio in a heartbeat, Hizashi feeling something in him relax as he was right where he belonged — well. As he was in one of the places where he belonged.

Looking back to where his sound engineer was keeping everything in order in the booth, Hizashi grinned and slipped his headphones off, rolling his chair over to tap on the glass. The unamused look he was given was wonderful, truly, “C’mon, Suki-chan, it’s another beautiful night and we get to stay up through all of it and make as much noise as we want!”

Takada Suki, his first radio intern turned sound engineer turned unofficial manager of the station flicked the switch that would allow him to hear her. “Aizawa-san said to take your medicine after your introduction.” Before Hizashi could lie and say he forgot it, Suki was holding up a familiar, hated bottle. “He dropped it off when he, unfortunately, dropped you off.”

“Hmph,” Hizashi grumbled, rolling over to open the door that led into her side of the booth and catching the bottle of pills and water she then threw at him. “Remember when you were still starstruck and feared me? Can’t we go back to that?”

“I wasn’t starstruck, I was horrified that my boss was someone who was barely out of school. I was also afraid we’d go under and I wouldn’t get my credits for class.” Suki was smiling anyways, Hizashi snorting as he took his stupid medicine and then rolled back into his side of the booth, song starting to come to an end.

Ready to put himself back on air, Hizashi froze as he felt his phone buzzing inside his pocket and that… wasn’t good. Hizashi always muted his phone during his shows and only a few calls could even get through — and those that could call would know better than to call during a live show unless…

Hizashi raised his hand, looking at Suki and waiting until her attention snapped towards him, “Possible emergency. Take over and play the first set list and say we’re sorting through the stories sent by email to start with.”

“Yessir!” Jerking off the headphones he had only just put on, Hizashi stood up and dragged out his phone and felt his heart stutter at seeing the caller ID of Shinsou Hitoshi. “Welcome back to Put Your Hands Up! radio and, yes, you might have noticed I’m not your wild and carefree Present Mic, but that’s okay because we’re gonna keep the party going until he gets back! Come on, listeners, I wanna be able to hear your rocking all the way from here! We’re kicking things off with-”

Hizashi didn’t waste a heartbeat in answering, immediately heading for the door to get some silence, knowing the show was in good hands with Suki. “‘Toshi? Hey, what’s up, kiddo? Is something wrong?”

Shinsou Hitoshi had been training with Shouta for almost half a year to get into the hero course and to say the two were stupidly fond of the kid would be putting it lightly. The fact that they were starting to talk to his caseworker about possibly being put into a different foster home, well, Hitoshi didn’t need to know that part quite yet. It was a surprise, after all.

The problem was that Hitoshi never called. He texted, sent videos, sent photos of stray cats, and used emojis more than Hizashi ever did, but he didn’t call. The fact he was calling now during the middle of his show? It couldn’t be anything good. The problem, though, was that Hitoshi wasn’t saying anything. All Hizashi could hear was soft breathing over the line before he had a short heart attack at having his phone buzz against his ear.

“Hitoshi? Kiddo? Hey, are you there? Is everything alright?” Hizashi prayed to everything out there that it was just an accidental dial of his phone. “‘Toshi?” It took two more buzzes before Hizashi grit his teeth and checked his phone, ready to be annoyed but instead frowning at seeing incoming text messages from Hitoshi.

Pulling them up, Hizashi frowned at the messages, a mess of typos that spoke of shaking hands and the message that Hitoshi was outside of the station in the right alleyway and he… didn’t know where else to go…

Feeling his heart stutter to a stop for an eternity, Hizashi was running before he could even think the action through, bursting through the front doors of the radio station and ignoring anyone who tried to get him to slow down. It felt like too long before he was skidding around the corner to see Hitoshi curled up on the ground with his head tucked between his legs. The kid was holding on limply to his phone and Hitoshi could see tremors running through his shoulders.

“‘Toshi? Hey, kiddo, it’s me, Hizashi.” Approaching slowly and careful to make noise so Hitoshi would know exactly where he was coming from, Hizashi knelt in front of him. A quick glance showed that there, thankfully, didn’t seem to be any broken bones. His clothing was crumpled and torn in some places, but nothing that screamed of an outright villain attack. There weren’t any blood trails either, so that at least meant he hadn’t suffered any blood loss.

Hanging up his phone and shoving it away, Hizashi carefully and slowly rested a hand on Hitoshi’s shoulder, not surprised when he felt the teen tense up even more. It hadn’t taken a genius to see the kid’s past screamed of abuse. Leaving his hand there, Hizashi frowned as Hitoshi didn’t relax. If anything, he seemed to get even more tense, which was…

They knew Hitoshi didn’t live in a good home. It was one of the reasons they were talking to his caseworker because Hizashi knew, and he was certain Shouta did too, that it had been a long time since the two had seen Hitoshi as just another student. Hizashi wasn’t surprised that, due to all of that, he felt ready to scream at something with how his nerves felt like they were being shredded.

What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was his years and years of experience and battle instincts screaming at him that something was wrong. Hizashi had long ago learned to not doubt his instincts.

“‘Toshi, you have to tell me what’s wrong,” Hizashi said quietly — quietly, but firmly. Whatever was going on was more than just a bad fight with his family or some neighborhood kids being pieces of shit. If it was the former, Hitoshi would have called Shouta after finding a safe place to hide away. Running all the way to the radio station and then calling Hizashi on air, however? That was a desperate scream for help. “You can sign it out, if you need to, but I need to know-”

Few things in life made Hizashi speechless. As a talkative child, a hero who was known for his voice, and a man with a radio show, there was hardly a time, if ever, that Hizashi found himself rendered speechless.

Seeing a child he was beginning to see as his own with a rusted muzzle locked around his face, well… That did it.

Hizashi was, once again, barely aware he was even moving before he found himself pulling Hitoshi close to him, fumbling with the straps of the fucking muzzle with his phone dialing and on speaker beside him. Hizashi had already cut open at least two of his fingers by the rusted fucking metal by the time the call connected, Hizashi hearing the familiar voice of Shouta’s Hero Agency secretary, “Hello, this is-”

“This is Yamada Hizashi, known as Voice Hero Present Mic calling in for an emergency. Please contact Eraserhead and have him call me as quickly as possible.”

The secretary, a former student of theirs who knew them both rather well, didn’t say a word before the call was ending, Hizashi swearing as he finally managed to break the straps, sliding the muzzle off of Hitoshi’s face before throwing it against the brick wall with as much force as he could throw into it. He made a mental note to go back and find it later so he could turn it into scrap metal.

“Why.” The word was quiet. It was quiet, but it was harder and sharper than Shouta’s scarf could ever be. It wasn’t a question, though, and that knowledge alone had Hizashi wanting to just scream. “Why do you even care.”

They were bitter words. The words were soaked in years of pain and torment and Hizashi caught the barest glimpse of his kid’s face. Razor thin cuts lined his jaw and cheeks, blood welling up along all of them. Tears mixed in with the blood and it had to be so painful, but the look on Hitoshi’s face could only be called wrathful. Hizashi didn’t blame him.

Sitting back for a moment, Hizashi stared at Hitoshi, a terrified kid who met his gaze without even flinching. There were a million things he could have said, but Hizashi knew that not a single word would get through. Hitoshi was as stubborn as Shouta, after all, but, that was good. That meant that while words might not work, actions would.

Slowly, so slowly, Hizashi took Hitoshi’s hand. When the teen didn’t jerk away or try to fight or yell at him, Hizashi lifted the hand to his own cheek. He could see Hitoshi’s confusion and wariness, but Hizashi merely shifted the hand until fingertips brushed against old, faint scars that were a reflection of the ones in front of him.

Hizashi could see the moment it hit, Hitoshi’s eyes growing wide as he pressed against the faded muzzle scars on Hizashi’s own face. It felt like an impossible task, but Hizashi finally managed a small, genuine smile.

“This may not explain why I care, but it might help to start explaining it,” Hizashi said softly, watching as Hitoshi’s shoulders shook. This time, it wasn’t in fear. “The muzzle… it was from your foster house, wasn’t it?” Because those people were not his family and Hizashi would never let Hitoshi call that place a home.

Hitoshi, instead of verbally answering, only stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. He wasn’t denying it, and Hizashi knew well enough what that meant. “Oh, Hitoshi…” For a moment, Hizashi couldn’t help but let some of his own bitterness sneak in, “Voice quirks can be seen as pretty dangerous, huh?”

It wasn’t even a second before Hitoshi was in his lap and hanging onto him tightly, Hizashi returning the grip and tucking Hitoshi close. He had always planned on telling Hitoshi about his own childhood one day, but god if this wasn’t the worst way to do it. As far as he was concerned whoever wanted this kid would have to pry him out of his cold, dead hands.

The sound of a familiar ringtone had Hizashi snatching his phone and answering without even looking at the ID, shoving the phone between his ear and shoulder as he tucked his kid closer, rubbing at Hitoshi’s back. “Hizashi? What’s wrong?”

“Call Hitoshi’s caseworker as soon as your patrol ends,” Hizashi said quietly, giving a soft, peaceful hum of a tune as he felt Hitoshi’s breath start to hitch. “I have a feeling our request is going to be approved as soon as you do.”

And he knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. He would have to tell Shouta exactly what had happened, he needed to find out exactly what had happened from Hitoshi, and he needed to get Hitoshi home where it would be nice and quiet and safe. There was definitely going to be all kinds of paperwork, and he would have to explain his absence from that night’s show, but…

None of it seemed to really matter when he heard Hitoshi, breathing uneven and hands shaking, manage a whisper-soft, “Thank you.”

“Always,” Hizashi responded, closing his eyes for a moment. There would be work to do, but for now his son was safe in his arms.

Hizashi was going to make sure that never change.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #erasermic #present mic #shinsou hitoshi #implied/referenced child abuse #my writing #my patreon #original

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agentfreckles · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, hello! How are you? I wanted to tell you that I like how you write and I really liked the story you wrote about Farah and the gender neutral detective! do you remember when F asked if they could have the goodbye kiss? Can you write one where Felix asks again about the kiss at the M!Detective, please? (I need some fluffiness sigh)

Thank you both so much for the kind words and these requests! This one was a little more challenging than I had hoped, but I really like how it turned out in the end so hopefully it was worth the wait. Enjoy!

Pucker Up

Rating: T for smooching and Mason’s potty mouth

Word Count: 1,724

Pairing: Felix x Male!Detective (Lucas Kingston)

Summary: Lucas gets called back to the station and forgets to give Felix a kiss goodbye before he leaves. Felix isn’t having it.

Notes: F is the biggest drama queen and you will not convince me otherwise. Based on Sera’s goodbye kiss ask that we all went feral for. I want to extend a massive thank you to @lilyoffandoms for letting me borrow their hunky detective Lucas for this. He really helped this story come alive and I can’t thank you enough!

Felix hates goodbyes. Like really, really hates them.

They’re sitting on the couch in the warehouse living room in their usual position, with Lucas’ arm slung around Felix’s shoulders while his hand rests firmly on the detective’s thigh. Conversation flows easily between the two of them and the rest of Unit Bravo — maybe even a little too easily for some of the team’s more senior members given some of the subject matter that’s managed to crop up here and there — but, hey, any gab session where he and Mason have managed to make Nat sigh in exasperation and pinch the bridge of her nose multiple times is pretty damn good in Felix’s book. Hell, even Ava, perpetual hard-ass that she is, managed to get in a joke or two. It’s been a great day, the best day. And it’s times like these where Felix takes a look around the room at his family and the love of his life and just feels...happy. Really, truly happy. And he knows in this moment that there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than right here.

But then that all too familiar buzzing noise pierces the blissful atmosphere in the room and Lucas removes his arm from Felix’s shoulders, taking the warmth with him as he reaches into his pocket to fish out his phone and Felix’s heart sinks because he knows what’s coming.

Lucas heaves a heavy sigh, frowning at his phone’s screen. “It’s Verda. I’ve got to get back. Apparently there’s a bit of a dispute going on at the station involving a couple of disgruntled fishermen and Douglas is the only one around to handle the situation. You can image how well that’s going.”

Felix visibly deflates. “You’re leaving? But you just got here.”

Mason scoffs from his spot perched against a side table in his preferred dark corner of the room, lit cigarette dangling from his lips. “He’s been here since this morning.”

“Well, it feels like he just got here. Not that anyone asked you anyway,” Felix retorts, tossing Mason an unamused glare before fixing his focus back on the detective. “Are you sure you have to go?”

“Duty calls, I’m afraid,” Lucas says with a soft smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he stands and begins collecting his belongings from the nearby coffee table.

Felix frowns at the sudden distance between them, eventually giving a resigned nod. “Yeah, I guess so.”

It sucks, but honestly he gets it. Lucas is a busy guy; he can’t just stay and laze around with Felix forever. But, man, does he wish he could just wrap Lucas in his arms and never let go instead of having to sit idly by as he gets called away once again to go off and be this badass crime solver extraordinaire. God, he’s amazing. And handsome and funny and smart and —

He misses him so much already and the guy hasn’t even left yet.

Felix shakes himself out of his lovesick haze before he makes things even worse for himself, instead rising up to his feet and positioning himself in silent preparation for the one event that makes these goodbyes even remotely bearable.

Goodbye kisses may be born out of less than ideal circumstances, but they sure are enjoyable. Especially the way he and Lucas do them. They’re soft and tender yet charged with heat and every one gives Felix just enough to get by in Lucas’ absence while also leaving him eagerly waiting for their next meeting so they can come together all over again.

“Let me get your coat,” Nat offers, reaching for the trench coat she’d folded over the back of a nearby arm chair and stepping behind Lucas as she helps him slip it on. He hums absentmindedly in thanks, his focus zeroed in on his phone and a deep frown settles onto his face as he reads through his texts — Verda’s updates on the dispute at the station, no doubt — but Felix’s focus is only on the excitement bubbling in his chest as the kiss draws near.

Any moment now Lucas will put his phone away and those blue eyes will lock on him. They’ll sparkle with heat as he strides over to Felix with slow and steady purpose and a small smirk will rest on his lips because he knows all too well the effect he has over him. Then he’ll take him in his arms and-

And…he’s heading for the door.

Wait, seriously?

“Babe!” Felix calls out automatically, mouth falling open in disbelief as the fantasy he was losing himself in shatters.

“Hm?” Lucas responds in surprise, spinning on the spot to face him. The phone in his hand chimes with another incoming text. His eyes fall back to the screen and he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, Felix. I need to get back before Douglas gets himself killed. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Don’t you think you’re forgetting something?” Felix presses, halting the detective’s movements once more.

Lucas’ brow furrows in confusion and he begins patting himself down and checking his pockets in earnest. “Uh, no…? I don’t believe so.”

Felix can hardly believe what he’s hearing. His head swivels around to the other members of Unit Bravo looking for someone to back him up on the cruel twist of fate life has handed him, but he’s met with three faces displaying the same sheer confusion as his boyfriend currently is. “Is anyone else seeing this right now? I can’t be the only one who noticed, right?”

“None of us have any fucking idea what you’re talking about, Felix,” Mason snarks, followed closely by a disapproving click of the tongue from Nat.

“Felix, the detective clearly has important matters to attend to,” Ava scolds and wow, okay, maybe Felix really is alone in this after all. “I suggest you save your concerns for-“

“You’re really just going to leave without a goodbye kiss? Babe!“

Felix swears he feels the ground shake under the combined forces of Ava and Mason’s groans. He ignores them, striding across the room with his head held high and determination set on his features as he prepares to confront his boyfriend for this most heinous of slights.

He comes to a stop in front of where Lucas stands by the door. Channeling his inner Ava, Felix folds his arms and tries his best to peer down his nose in disappointment at Lucas despite their rather large height difference. “Well, detective? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Lucas sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, his gaze sidelong and woefully apologetic. “It appears I was forgetting something after all.” His blue eyes shift back to catch his and Felix feels his breath hitch at the intensity in his gaze. “Please allow me to make it up to you before I go.”

Oh, well, now there’s a thought.

“I don’t know…” Felix trails off in faux consideration, determined to milk the moment for all its worth despite the somersaults his insides are currently doing at the implications of the request. It’s a little much, he knows —and Lucas really needs to get over to the station like now — but then again, Felix never has been one to waste an opportunity to charm his way into a larger payout. And something tells him this reward is going to be big if he plays his cards right. “That was a pretty big offense, babe. You’re going to have to come up with something pretty special for me to forgive you.”

“Special, huh?” Lucas grins, all too ready to accept the challenge Felix has laid out before him. He shortens what little distance remains between them, one hand snaking its way around Felix’s waist while the other gently comes to rest on his cheek. Felix swallows heavily under the heat of his stare. “I think I can manage that.”

Lucas closes the distance between them and Felix gasps in surprised delight as he feels himself being lowered horizontally into a dip, suddenly feeling very much like one of those couples from those black and white romance films they’d sometimes show on movie night at the Facility. He used to call such dramatic romantic displays cheesy and unrealistic, but this is…wow. It’s heady and delicious, a perfect blend of yearning and desire and love that’s just so right that his brain just kind of short circuits from the intensity of it. He hopes that Lucas will be able to resolve that problem at the station quickly because there is no way in hell Felix is going to be able to focus on anything else until he gets back.

Distantly he feels himself being placed upright again as Lucas finally breaks the kiss and releases his hold on him. The detective’s breath is ragged as he straightens his tie and runs a hand through his red hair before fixing Felix with a smile. “So how did I do?”

“I…uhh…heh,” Felix stumbles, unable to form words thanks to the pile of mush his brain has been reduced to. He blinks back the dense fog just enough to reply with a breathless, “You’re forgiven.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” A sharp ringing sound fills the air. Lucas swipes the screen on his phone and answers the call. “Yes, Verda. There was a small matter that needed attending to, but I’m on my way now.” And with a small nod of his head and one last dazzling smile, Lucas departs, the living room door closing behind him with a soft click.

“That was quite the parting gift,” Mason remarks, giving a small nod in approval as Felix all but floats back to the couch.

“The best gift,” Felix corrects him as he collapses onto the cool leather. His eyes flutter closed, mind dancing with images of red hair and blue eyes and impossibly soft lips that leave him breathless and aching for more.

Nat chuckles fondly nearby. “One that’ll make the wait much more bearable until Lucas’ return, I’m sure.”

The sentiment has a grin tugging at Felix’s lips. He’s not sure anything could ever make waiting to see the detective again not feel like an eternity, but straight-out-of-the-movies kisses are one hell of a good try.

Maybe goodbyes aren’t so bad after all.

#hopefully i did your boi justice oof #btw any gushing Felix does is me simping for Lucas through him #guys I kind of love how this turned out?#idk I'm just really proud of myself ngl #felix hauville #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #frecklesfic #ask freckles

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snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 12)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 My Master Post

Remus sulked in the back of Roman’s car. It wasn’t fair. His brother and his best friend were both in the front seat and had been mocking him for the past 10 minutes and they wouldn’t even put on an interesting music station. Roman had even told Janus about the time Remus had peed on a wasp sting thinking it would work like it did for jellyfish.

“We should play a car game,” Remus suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Roman said immediately.

“Come on Ro, it’s tradition,” Remus said.

“You kill my cows every time!” Roman said. “You could kill Uncle Patton’s cows since he’s always winning, but you always choose to kill my cows!”

“But RooooOOO.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Remus relented. “No Cow Game.”

“Thank you.”

“I spy with my-”

“No, Remus.”

Remus paused. “I’m thinking of an animal.”

“I’m not playing Remus.”

They sat in silence for about 20 seconds. “There’s a Kentucky driver’s license. One point for me.”

Roman chose to just ignore him now.

“Janus you’ll play with me, won’t you?” he asked.

“Remus, I don’t even know what you’re talking about, and you’re already annoying me,” was the answer.

“Come on if we’re going to listen to stupid music, we should at least play a game. How about we try to find things outside of the car in alphabetical order. I’ll start. Airport sign! Now you find something starting with the letter ‘b’.”

Does the annoying bastard in the backseat count?” Janus grumbled under his breath.

“No,” Remus replied with a grin. “It’s got to be something outside of the car.”

Janus didn’t respond to that and Remus pouted. He went through a bunch of different car games he knew and tried to make some up, but none seemed to entice either his brother or Janus to play. While usually he might just give up after being ignored for so long, he noticed Janus’s hand start tapping a restless pattern on his leg after only about 10 seconds of Remus’s silence. So, Remus decided to drop the car games and instead just focused on being as annoying as possible.

…

“Theeeeeeeeee…. wheels on the bus go round and round!”

“I’m going to kill him,” Janus said blankly.

“That’s what he wants,” Roman said mildly. “Just ignore him.”

Remus kept singing for a long time. Eventually he ran out of verses, so he just started to make some up. “The strippers on the pole…”

“Oh my god,” Janus said. “I can’t handle this anymore.”

“Seriously Jan,” Roman said. “Just pretend he doesn’t exist, and he’ll eventually wear himself out.”

“In how long?” Janus asked, just the slightest edge of hysteria to his voice.

“It depends on if he’s had any caffeine today.”

Remus kept singing, but Janus and Roman remained resolutely silent on the matter until Remus eventually trailed off.

“This is boring,” Remus said.

Nothing.

“At least change the radio station to something not lame.”

Janus reached forward and turned the volume on the radio station up. Remus sat back in his seat and thought for a few minutes which is when he tuned into the radio station.

“So, if you’d like to request a song, you can call in or send a request through our new app,” the man on the radio said. Remus smiled widely and grabbed his phone from his pocket.

When he turned it on, he had a bunch of missed phone calls and text messages from dad. What? He opened the text messages and they all seemed to be asking the same question: ‘Have you seen your brother?’ Remus glanced up at the back of Roman’s head.

‘I’m not his keeper,’ he texted back.

Then, he closed out of the messenger app and pressed the button for the app store. He quickly found what he was looking for and pressed the download button.

It took a couple of minutes to download and about when it was over, he noticed Janus shoot a look back at him. He opened his mouth, doubtlessly to comment on Remus’s silence. Not wanting to be suspicious, Remus opened his mouth and let out his patented ‘banshee scream.’

“Don’t look at him!” Roman yelled over the sound of Remus’s scream.

“Why is your brother a demon from hell?” Janus asked, hands over his ears.

Remus ran out of air after a moment. There was a beat of silence.

“Can I please kill him, Roman?” Janus asked.

“No,” Roman replied. “Really, just ignore him.”

Janus grumbled under his breath and turned the radio station up even more. Satisfied that they were none the wiser, Remus opened the now downloaded app and quickly found the “suggestions” tab in the menu drop down. He didn’t even have to check the given list of suggested songs to know what he wanted was not on it.

So, he tapped on the button to suggest a different song and typed in the details of what he wanted before pressing send. Then it was just a waiting game and no matter what dad (and everyone else) had always said, Remus was good at waiting games. At least, he was when he wanted to be. Both Janus and Roman were looking resolutely ahead and Roman’s fingers were tapping to the beat of the current song on the wheel despite the fact that they were going over the speed limit to a crazy amount.

The song ended and a man came on the air.

“Hello, hello, hello,” the man said. “We’ll be getting right back to your suggestions on KSS-FM 102.9, but before that for anyone on Interstate 26, there was an accident near the Carlson exit involving a semi-truck full of cows. If you’re anywhere near exit 52, I’d suggest you moo-ve right on over to an alternative route.”

“Fantastic,” Janus hissed, slamming his fist against the dash.

“Hey, whoa, it’s fine,” Roman soothed, but Janus didn’t seem to be listening.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Hey, Jan,” Remus said. “You’ve got your map, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, it’ll be easy to find an alternate route, yeah?” he asked.

“We don’t even know where we’re going!” Janus said. “How the hell are we supposed to find an alternate route?!”

“We know where he was right?” Remus said. “The cows might actually be a good thing. It’ll probably slow everyone down and we can guess what alternate route he might be using.” Janus didn’t say anything. “Here,” he said. “Gimme.” Janus handed over his atlas and Remus peered at it. “Yeah, here, see,” he said, showing it to him. “There are about four likely alternative routes someone might take near where Virgil was the last we knew. Three of them end up funneling into to Lincoln to get back onto the interstate and Lincoln has an ice-cream shop that got burglarized five times one summer, so they put up a security camera facing main street.”

“Please tell me you didn’t burglarize the ice cream shop,” Roman begged.

“You can prove nothing,” Remus said. He hadn’t actually, but he liked the distressed noise Roman gave in answer. “Anyway, I’d say we throw in our lots with that and drive to Lincoln to check the security camera. Even if he didn’t go that way, we can then make another guess based on where the 4th route went.”

“That…” Janus said. “Yeah, that’s actually a good suggestion Remus, thank you.”

“No prob Janny Fanny.”

“And you ruined it,” Janus said.

Remus just gave him the biggest smile he could.

Janus rolled his eyes and turned away from him to look back at the map. He grabbed a pen and circled the location that Remus had suggested. “You’ll want to get off at the next exit,” he told Roman.

Roman nodded. “Got it.”

Remus had actually almost forgotten in the interim about his absolutely fantastic idea until a few minutes later when the radio man announced the next song. Remus could already feel a smile creep up his face as the man snickered a little bit when he started speaking.

“Now,” he said, “we usually wouldn’t play this song, but it does seem… appropriate considering the trucks that crashed on I-26 and the person who suggested it wrote about why he wanted us to play it in the comments.” He broke for another short laugh. “As a sibling myself, I feel sympathy for your plight D-dongmaster-5000. So, here’s for you, stuck in a car while your brother and best friend hog the radio. I hope your road trip goes well.” And then, beautifully, the radio started singing the song of Remus’s soul.

Two trucks having sex

My muscles, my muscles

Involuntarily flex

Remus saw Janus look over at Roman. Roman didn’t look away from the road. Instead, he just said with zero emotion, “Kill him.”

Janus vaulted over into the back seat as the radio crooned:

Two pickup trucks

Making love

American made.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 13

#sanders sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #emile piccani #road trips and missing persons #adriana writes #kidnapping #murder mentioned

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bratkook · 5 years ago

Text

clairvoyant. (m) part five.

masterlist.

word count: 6.4k

author’s note: wow i finally dug out my drafts and wrote another chapter for this even though its been two fucking years!!! im honestly writing this for myself because im bored and in a rut so if you read it tysm. also finally decided who it’ll be centered around so enjoy.

warnings: just good ole fashioned dry humping and kissing

Everyone around you was saying their goodbyes, thanking everyone for working so hard and you took that as your cue to start gathering the equipment up.

“Thanks Y/N, just take that to the storage room.” The photographer you and Yoongi were currently assisting pointed out to the far right. You nodded in understanding before unhooking all of the lights and tearing them down properly. A few people lingered behind, makeup artists gathering their supplies, wardrobe crew grabbing a few more snacks off the catering table, and Yoongi rolling up the white backdrop.

It was your first day on the job and it just so happened to land on a shoot day so you were trying your best to make a good first impression so they wouldn't fire you before you even really started.

So far everyone had been very welcoming and kind, no one yelling at you if you messed up a little so that got rid of your jitters. It felt nice to be able to work where you knew you could network and learn, the only photography experience you had at your old job was taking shitty pictures of the drunken idiots lying around near closing.

“So how’d you like your first assisting job?”

You looked to the left and saw Yoongi standing at the door frame of the storage room, a smile on his face and his hands holding the folded backdrop.

“It was great, seems like kind of a tease though because tomorrow we’ll be doing basic retouching on photos.”

He just shrugged after setting what he was holding down, “True, we get quite a few of these shoots though so make a good impression and someone might take you under their wing.”

You sighed as you locked the lights securely into place. Being taken under someone's wing before you finished school would be a blessing because it almost guaranteed a decent job after school was over and you were tossed into the great unknown of an art degree holding college graduate.

“Thats what I’m hoping for.”

The both of you rechecked everything was in its place and secure before turning the light off and locking up the storage room. Due to the fact the shoot day extended longer than a typical shift you were being paid overtime and let off once everything wrapped so you and Yoongi were headed to the nearest restaurant to get actual food in your system.

Your scarf was wrapped around your neck snuggly to protect from the cold wind and Yoongi draped his arm around your shoulder as you both casually walked. In this split moment you felt content, a slight feeling of everything starting to fall into place and you let yourself bask in it.

“What's got you all smiley?”

Yoongi looked at you with a small grin, his eyes focusing on your wide smile before shifting back up to your own eyes.

You just shrugged before playfully tugging his black beanie down over his eyes, earning a grunt of annoyance as he shoved it back up. “I’m just happy.”

“Are you usually not?”

There was a beat of silence as you thought it through.

“It’s not that I’m not, I’m usually just...living through it?”

He nodded in understanding, “I get you. Kind of just going through routine motions without really feeling much.”

A white cloud left your mouth in a huff as you sighed in agreement, “Exactly, don’t get me wrong there’s little tidbits of happiness scattered throughout but they’re just moments of happiness that pass as quickly as they happen. It’s been a while since I’ve felt happiness for the future and its exciting.”

You looked back over at him, seeing him nod because he fully understood. He was on the same boat as you, his parents much like yours weren’t supportive of his choice to pursue an art degree so you guys were scraping by and holding on to any thread of hope that popped up. The pair of you were just hoping everything would work out.

“Anyways, enough with the semi depressive reality check. I’m hungry and there’s this new korean barbecue place that opened up a few blocks away. Wanna text everyone and meet up for a nice family dinner.” He chuckled at the end of that, and you joined in light heartedly before whipping your phone out and sending out a group text simply saying “Korean bbq, don't be a bitch and meet here in fifteen.”

Low and behold, your group of friends were indeed not bitches, they all showed up as punctual as you would expect of them and they even brought along a straggler. This straggler went by the name of Jeon Jungkook and you couldn’t help but look at him with a smile, just seeing him trail behind Taehyung with his head slightly dipped almost like he was unsure if him being there was okay. Taehyung on the other hand paid him no mind and just waltzed in, his denim clad arms outstretched and a boxy smile on display as he approached the table you all sat around.

Him and Jungkook were the last to arrive so Tae decided to slip into the seat beside you, but not before slotting his lips against yours in a chaste kiss that seemed too casual. Like usual no one said anything and you just rolled your eyes with a smile and shoved his shoulder before redirecting your attention to Yoongi who was the master meat cooker.

Jungkook saw the small exchange and his want for coaching, as you so put it, was back. He wanted that, whatever the fuck that was that you and Tae had. Fuck, did that make him a typical fuckboy? Did this go against his morals of being a gentleman?

You had reassured him that it was fine as long as he was straightforward with whoever it involved and he had already set his eyes on someone. Now it was just a waiting game on if Jisoo the cute barista would be for it or not.

“Jungkook sit down!”

The resemblance to a deer caught in headlights was uncanny as he stared at you, realizing he had just been standing behind the only available chair as everyone stared back at him with their own food set up in front of them already.

“Oh, sorry.” His hands came up and ruffled his own hair in embarrassment before he sat down, “Just a little distracted”

Taehyung slid over an empty plate and pointed his chopsticks at him, “He’s been like this for a couple of days, what’s your deal?”

Everyone’s attention was back on Jungkook, including your own. His cheeks reddened slightly from all the eyes on him so he took it upon himself to just scoop up some rice to occupy himself. What was he supposed to say? Yeah sorry I got a lot on my mind like finding out Taehyung and Y/N fuck on the regular but aren’t dating and Y/N is gonna teach me how to do that with the cute barista everyone sees at the campus coffee shop?

“Just a school project.”

“A very hands on school project right Jungkook?” You couldn’t help but tease him, knowing exactly what’s been on his mind since you’ve been texting each other to come up with some kind of game plan on approaching Jisoo.

His eyes flicked over to you for a split second, only giving you a nod before nervously chewing on his lip. You couldn’t understand him, you really couldn’t. How could a man who looked like him be this shy when it comes to literally anyone? He could probably crush someone with his thighs for crying out loud, but here he sat with an aura surrounding him that just showed how unsure he was with himself.

He was a sweet kid, super respectful as far as you could tell, he just needed to learn that wanting to fuck someone while not wanting a relationship was completely normal. Sex was human nature and you were determined to get him to enjoy it as long as he was consenting to your help.

You kept your eyes on him, seeing him reach his plate over to get the meat Yoongi was offering him and mumbling out a thanks before turning his attention to Jin who was on his left and starting a conversation.

A small jab to your cheek via a chopstick snapped you out of your curious gaze, your fingers coming up to rub at the skin and looking to your right where Jimin was sat. “You into him?”

He had mumbled it out to you so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, a couple seconds passed before it clicked and you shook your head, “No, why?”

“You’ve been staring at him like he’s your next victim.”

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled before picking up some kimchi and shoving it into his mouth with no resistance from his part as he happily munched on it. “I don’t have victims Park Jimin.” The way his eyes slightly narrowed at you made it clear he was questioning why you were staring at him as intently as you have been, “I was just looking at him because he’s interesting don’t you think?”

Jimin shook his head because he had no idea what you even meant by that, “Interesting? He’s not a caged animal for you to observe you weirdo.” He was just teasing you, giving you a smile when he heard you laugh.

“That’s not what I mean, forget it. How was your mom’s brunch?”

At the mention of that his expression went blank and he poured himself a glass of soju and took a nice swig of it, “As amazing as you would expect.”

Jimin’s parents always went all out for these brunches, renting out the biggest places and inviting the A class elites of Seoul who would donate to whatever charity they were advocating for. They hassled Jimin every single time to network and find a girl they deemed worthy enough of him marrying and he absolutely hated it. He was the literal definition of a rebellious son, getting a kick every time he would get under their skin. Whether that was by going out on a date with someone they thought suited him and getting absolutely trashed and scaring said girl away, to getting his body tattooed and pierced against their wishes.

Jimin knew how to play his cards right, he knew his parents would never fully cut him off as long as he was somewhat compliant with a few things here and there but he wasn’t going to be molded into whatever they wanted him to be. He was their only child so in his mind who else could they possibly hand off their money to?

“I told my mom you were my date for the thanksgiving event.”

You hummed as you chewed on your food, already knowing this probably didn’t end well. “How did she take that?”

His smirk just proved your suspicion, “Super well actually. Especially when I told her I think you’re the one and I’m thinking about proposing to you.”

What?!

You choked on your food, coughing like a mad man and pounding at your chest with a closed fist. Taehyung who was sat on your left immediately handed you a glass of water and patted your back to help you out. All the while Jimin continued to stare at you with that shit eating grin on his face, pressing the edge of his glass against his lips as he waited for you to speak again.

“Jimin what the fuck I never agreed to that.”

Taehyung was now intrigued by whatever conversation you two were having so he decided to eavesdrop while pretending to eat his food.

“Relax Y/N, obviously I’m not doing that. It was a small joke.”

“It’s not a joke if your parents don’t think it is!”

He pursed his lips at you, “Damn is marrying me really that repulsive?”

Taehyung laughed to himself at that, gaining Jungkook's attention who was now looking at the exchange between you and Jimin.

“No, shut up! That’s not what I’m saying Jimin. I’m just supposed to go to scare off all the girls that wanna latch onto you, I’m not there to piss your parents off, they probably hate me enough knowing you help me whenever you can.”

Taehyung decided to stop listening at that moment, striking up a conversation with Hoseok instead. He knew how sensitive you were when it came to talking about receiving help and admitting to needing it so he knew this wasn’t his business. Jungkook on the other hand didn’t have a clue so as he stared down at his rice his ears stayed hooked on the conversation.

Jimin pressed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, I promise I was joking. I didn't tell my parents that, I wouldn’t put you in that position. They don’t hate you by the way.”

That was a little hard to believe, Jimin was a very giving person, especially when it came to his friends. The rest of your friends were a little more financially stable than you were so the amount of times he would take it upon himself to help you, because you had too much pride to really ask for help, surely it stood out to his parents.

“What I choose to do with my money is my business okay, my parents don't even notice where it goes half the time.”

You pushed the meat on your plate around with your chopsticks, your mood dropping down just a bit once you really remembered how much help Jimin gave you. You owed him a lot, and even though he says it's fine it doesn't make you feel any better about it.

“Hey,” Jimin slowly spoke, slouching down and looking up at you from your downcast gaze on the table, “Y/N.”

When you only pursed your lips at the sound of your name he sat back up and slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side and wrapping both arms around you. He had his chin resting on your head, seeing the rest of the guys now looking your way. Yoongi mouthing out what the fuck did you do while Jimin responded nothing mind your business.

“If I ever go overboard for whatever reason let me know and I’ll back off but if I can help you then I will and have no problems doing so okay?” He had mumbled all that next to your ear to not draw attention from everyone else.

With a deep sigh, you mumbled out an okay and tried your best to go back to the dinner you and your friends were having. Jungkook had heard the entire exchange and he wanted to say something to make you feel slightly better but there was no way he could do that without feeling like he crossed a line by eavesdropping in your conversation.

After a few moments the dinner had gone back to normal, all of you goofing around like you usually do, the guys including Jungkook in and making him feel like part of the group. When the time came to leave you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket so you slid it out to peek at the notification, momentarily confused when you saw Jungkook's name flashing on your screen when he was sat right across from you.

Regardless, you opened the thread of messages up and grinned when you read what he wrote.

Jungkook 8:45pm

Need help, Jisoo responded.

Jungkook 8:45pm

Can we go to your dorm?

Jungkook 8:45pm

Don’t want Tae to hear…

Right on cue, Taehyung slung his arm around your shoulders, not noticing how you locked your phone and slid it back into your pocket. All of you were now shuffling out of the restaurant, you and Taehyung in the middle of the swarm of your group that was now being reckless on the walk back to the dorms.

“Wanna go back to mine? I can try to get rid of Jungkook.” He whispered in your ear, kissing the side of your head swiftly as he waited for your response.

You slid your arm around his waist as you nuzzled further into his side when the wind picked up, “Can’t, Jungkook and I actually have some planning to do for his project tonight.”

At the mention of his name you could see Jungkook's back tense up from behind and you already knew he was listening in to your exchange while pretending to be invested in the ruckus Jimin was currently doing.

“Oh, planning? Is that code for fucking?” Your cheeks warmed up at his words, your palm instinctively smacking his side, “Cause, to be honest I don’t know how I would feel about you and my roommate banging.”

“Oh don’t be like that, sharing is caring right?” You teased, enjoying the suggestive look that took over his face, “But no, no fucking. I mean it when I say we’re planning for a project.”

He sighed and said alright before dropping the conversation altogether. The walk back to campus took a few minutes, your group huddled by the statue on the front corner of the campus as you said your goodbyes and dispersed. Jimin hopped into an Uber before heading to his apartment, Jin took off in his car to his own place while Namjoon, Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung hooked arms and stupidly walked across the quad towards the boys dorms.

You looked over at Jungkook, seeing him smile at the guys’ antics, his eyes moving back to you and seeing your hands motion for him to follow you to the girl’s dorms.

“Hey Y/N, who's this?” Joy asked with a smile from behind the front desk, hands already sliding over the notepad used for off campus guests.

“Oh, Jungkook. I’m a student here.” He slid out his wallet and handed her his student ID.

She hummed as she filled out his info in a separate notepad before handing it back with a smile. “Okay, well Jihyo’s doing her rounds for guests at 11:40 so if you’re planning on spending the night I’d recommend hiding around that time.”

Jungkooks face started to turn a light shade of red at the implication of him spending the night and now he was wondering how many times Taehyungs had to hide in your dorm on the nights he never came home and it also clicked when you’d make a swift exit out of his and Taehyungs shared room for a few moments when Namjoon made his rounds before sneaking back in when you thought no one would notice.

“Thanks Joy!” You winked at her, hooking your arm around Jungkooks and dragging him away while she fluttered her fingers in a goodbye wave.

When you entered the elevator you felt Jungkook finally exhale, “Wow, she’s pretty.” Was the first thing he said.

You could only laugh in response, “Oh, I know. All the girls here are Jungkook, and I’m pretty sure they’d all let you smash if you knew how to ask them.”

And now his blushed cheeks were spreading to his ears as well, he could see it in the warped reflection the elevator doors were giving him. Could he really just ask them? He felt like that would be the quickest way to get slapped to next week.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, you took the lead and walked out, turning left as your hands slid out the keycard that was in the small pocket in your bag. As you entered your room you noticed Wendy was gone, her side completely spotless as normal and a cute post it note resting on your desk.

Went out for dick and by dick I mean getting absolutely hammered and crying into my street tacos, won't be back until tomorrow so feel free to get your own dick down here all night xo

Jungkook read the note as well, quickly acting like he didn’t when he heard you giggling to yourself as you set your stuff down. His eyes roamed the room, seeing the cute touches you and your roommate have added, one of which was a giant polaroid wall on your side with plenty of photos of you and your friends.

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together as you walked in front of Jungkook and set your hands on his shoulders to force him to sit on your bed, “what’s going on with Jisoo?”

He slid his phone out silently, opening up their thread of messages and handing the device over to you. You grabbed it from him and flicked up to the top of the thread.

Jungkook 3:12pm

Hey, its Jungkook. Thanks for the free coffee

Jungkook 3:12pm

And your number.

Jisoo 4:30pm

Hi! Sorry I just got off work but you’re welcome anything for my favorite customer.

You continued to scroll, seeing Jungkook and Jisoo making nice, innocent conversation with each other. Jisoo kept implying wanting to see Jungkook outside of the regular visits to the cafe while Jungkook was either very oblivious or just didn’t know how to ask her out.

“Okay, she wants you to ask her out Jungkook. Why haven’t you?” You hand his phone back to him, seeing him fidgeting with his fingers at your question.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how to properly ask her. What's a good date suggestion?” You slipped your shoes off and shuffled up on your bed beside him, choosing to get comfy.

“If you want something short and sweet, I suggest going out to lunch somewhere near campus. You guys can talk and get to know each other and you can get a feel for this before you decide if you like her enough to pursue something or if you’d be down for something casual with her.”

He sighs at that, laying back against your bed and using one of your throw pillows to cushion his head from hitting the wall. “Okay, and if I decide I want something casual how do I bring it up? And if she’s for it and tries to get physical how do I go about it?”

“Well for one, you’re not gonna bring it up on the first date. That kinda stuff shouldn’t be discussed on a first date, not unless theres an obvious connection. I do have to advise you though, if you just want something casual you can’t treat her like you want something more.”

His thick eyebrows furrow at this, “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I mean, if after this one date you decide you just wanna sleep with her or make it a friends with benefits kinda thing you can’t take her on dates or act like a boyfriend. Odds are she’s gonna be the one to ask you what you’re looking for and its very important for you to be honest. Thats how you avoid hurting someone.”

You’re gently patting his head at this, feeling him nod along to your words, “Also, in terms of how to act if she decides to get physical then you kinda act on instinct. I know you’ve only slept with one person before but what about kissing?”

He shakes his head at this, “Not much experience there either. I told you Y/N, I feel completely clueless and I know I shouldn’t care but I don’t wanna be dubbed as the guy that sucks at everything.”

A giggle leaves you at his statement, “Jungkook that’s not gonna happen. Kissing is like second nature.”

He slides the pillow out from behind him and covers his face to let out a groan into it, “Easy for you to say, you don’t understand how many times I have to listen to Taehyung brag about how great you are.”

“At kissing?”

“Yeah, and other things.” He trails off.

All you can do is sit there and think over his words, part of you wants to suggest he go to a party with Taehyung and make out with random girls before he asks Jisoo out if he’s so worried about being bad at kissing of all things but you know he wont be up for it. Another part of you wants to suggest helping him learn, one on one, but you’re also not sure how he’d take that. Even though kissing was entirely innocent in your eyes you really don’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable.

“Look,” you start off, sliding the pillow off his face, “I can show you, if you want.”

The fingers that were strumming on his stomach freeze at your suggestion and you immediately think you fucked up. Until his head tilts to look at you, his eyes wide in curiosity, “Really?”

He sits back up to fully look at you, “Yeah, if you want to Jungkook.”

You don’t expect him to nod as quickly as he does but considering he’s eager to learn it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. “Please, as long as it’s not awkward for you.”

You shrug and say its not because it really isn’t, Jungkooks hot and kissing is your favorite pastime so you really dont mind. Plus considering you’re the one who suggested coaching him you kind of felt a tinge of responsibility to not let him go off with zero confidence with something as simple as kissing.

He could only sit there and you know he doesn’t know how to initiate it because of the position you’re in so you stand up and go to stand right in front of him. With the height of your bed and his height when you stand right in front of his sitting frame you’re only slightly taller than him.

“Okay, lets start slow yeah?” He nods, his tongue running across his lips in anticipation. You nudge his thighs apart so you can slot between them more comfortably and gently rest your palms on his jaw, getting closer to him.

“You can touch me, whatever feels natural okay?” He can only nod again, maintaining eye contact for a moment before looking down at your lips and seeing the smile on them. His eyes flutter closed when you finally press your lips together, his lips feel soft against yours and it only lasts a moment before you’re pulling away and his lips try to chase you back.

“How was that?” He immediately asks, not noticing that his hands had found their way onto your hips.

“Good, not too stiff. We’re gonna move on now, just try to follow what I’m doing.”

Your thumb traces his bottom lip before your hands go back to cupping his jaw gently. This time he closes the distance between you two, his lips slotting between yours easily with a little more pressure than last time.

You test the waters, letting him get used to the actions of open mouth kissing, feelings his lips relax after a while. He lets out a small gasp of surprise once he feels the tip of your tongue lick the seam of his lips. The grip he has on your hips tighten and you give him a few more seconds to adjust before you take it further.

One of the hands you have on his jaw slides down to grasp the hand on your hip and you drag it up so he could cup the back of your head. Your fingers dont leave his hand until he has a decent grip on your hair.

His mouth opens up a little wider, letting you slide your tongue inside and his eyes slip open for a second at the new feeling. Its wet, and a little ticklish but the sound of your lips smacking together and the small groans of pleasure you both slip out are making a small fire light up inside him.

The hand gripping your hair tightens up and he tugs gently, kissing you harder when he hears the small moan that leaves your mouth. Its pure instinct that has you swinging your legs over his thighs and straddling him on your bed, not noticing just how comfortable you’ve gotten until you find yourself grinding down onto him and thats when you stop.

You pull back, a small string of spit pulling apart between your lips and he doesn’t seem to even notice your new position. His eyes are half lidded and his breathing is harsh and the way his tongue comes out to catch the spit on his lips makes you want to dive back in but you snapped out of it.

“See, second nature right?”

He finally seems to realize you’re on his lap when he looks down and sees how flush you are to him, “Yeah, want more practice though.” He doesn't give you time to respond before he’s using the hand still in your hair to pull you towards him again and this time he’s leading the kiss.

He tilts his head and licks his way into your mouth, groaning when your tongues tangle together. He never realized how messy kissing could be but he thought it was hot. You can tell he wants to speed up but you keep your movements slow, knowing that the buildup is the best part, the feeling of your tongues playing tag or your tongue tickling the roof of his mouth before you pull back slightly to suck on his bottom lip. Those moments were always your favorite when it came to making out.

Jungkook starts to grow more comfortable, both his hands now coming to grip the back of your head and the other sliding up right beneath your jaw as the kiss grows deeper. And that's when your hips start grinding down again, this time Jungkook notices it right away and he pulls back to let out a moan.

“Sorry, is that too much?” Your lips are shiny and he can’t look away from them, “I know we said kissing but I didn’t really ask about this.”

His hands fall limp and just as you’re about to hop off they come back to life to rest on your hips, using them to slide you back across his lap, “No, I like it. Its uh, for the experience right?”

You nod at this, not giving it much thought because you just want to go back to kissing him. The logical side of you wanted to stop because you’re just supposed to be showing him the ropes on kissing on a first date and odds are Jisso’s not gonna hop on his lap in the middle of lunch in public and do this but the other side of you wants to see him fall apart underneath you and that part of you is winning.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” You let his hands control the motion of your hips while you go back to kissing him. The flavor of the chapstick he had on is all you can taste as the kiss grows more heated. Your hands wrap around his shoulders as you pull yourself even closer to him, speeding up the rocking of your hips and feeling Jungkook choose to place his palms on your back, wanting you just as close.

The shudder of his breath fans across your face when he pulls back to let out another groan but you don’t want to pull your lips away so you trail them down his jaw until you reach the spot just under it when his jaw meets his neck.

When he feels your tongue on his skin along with the gentle sucking he can’t help but rock his hips up into yours, “Oh fuck.” He keens, applying more pressure with his hands to encourage you to grind on him faster.

“Feel good Jungkook?” You ask, nibbling on his skin softly before trailing your way back up to his lips, not slowing down the motions of your hips.

“Yeah,” he gasps, his eyes are blown out and he knows hes about to cum in his pants like a teenager but he doesn’t care. “So good.”

“Good.” Is all you respond, your lips coming together again to resume the motion that seems familiar now.

Jungkooks moans of pleasure are becoming more frequent and the feeling of him blowing his load right underneath you is making you embarrassingly wet, but right now its all about Jungkook. You can deal with your problem later.

“Dont stop, please.” He breathes out between kisses, his eyebrows coming together when he feels his climax approaching.

“You gonna cum?” You ask him, keeping your face close enough to his where you can feel his breath tickle your cheek at the proximity.

“Fuck, yeah.”

You speed up your hips, grinding down a little harder and grabbing one of his hands again to grab your boob this time. He gives them an experimental squeeze, moaning again at the feeling of them.

“C’mon Jungkook, you can cum.” His eyes are open now, looking directly at you and when he sees the fascination in your eyes at watching him fall apart he loses it, letting out a small wine as his body tenses up, his hips coming up to rut against yours as he rides out his orgasm.

He drops his head forward to rest on your chest as you continue to grind against him to milk out the feeling, his body shuddering at every roll of your hips until he’s whimpering at the overstimulation.

You still your hips and let him bask in the feeling, his back rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.

“Jesus christ.” Jungkook pulls back from you, a dopey smile on his face that can be attributed to post orgasm bliss. “Does kissing always lead to that?”

“No, not always, but its fun when it does.” You smile back at him. His body is definitely loosened up now and just as you’re about to speak again a hard knock comes from your door.

“Fuck, thats Jihyo making rounds.” Your arms are still around him but you know you need to answer the door before she uses her master key to unlock it for you.

Jungkook groans quietly when you get off of him, any movement on his sensitive dick being too much for him to handle right now. He’s happy he chose to wear black pants and a shirt that will definitely cover the wet spot of cum because when you stand up off of him it is glaringly obvious what it is.

The room door clicks as you slide it open and he sees you greet Jihyo with a smile, “Hey Y/N, he’s gotta be outta here in 5 minutes.”

Jungkook can only awkwardly sit on your bed as the exchange goes down, “Yeah, no problem. We were just working on a project.” He sees Jihyo look you up and down, noticing your swollen lips and disheveled hair before she looks at Jungkook who stupidly covers his lap with the pillow beside him.

“Right. I’ll be back in a few to make sure he’s gone.” You nod before stepping back and shutting the door behind you.

“Sorry about that, I forgot what time it was. Do you want me to walk you to your dorm?”

Jungkook stands up from his position, shaking his head at your offer. “No it’s fine. I really should get going now anyways, that essay for creative writing is due tomorrow and I need to finish editing it.”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” Your hands comes up to your face, your teeth going to chew on your fingernail as you think of having to edit the monstrosity of the essay you wrote while you were delirious with sleep.

“Uh thanks for–“

“For giving you the best orgasm of your life? Yeah, no problem.” You wink at him, enjoying the flustered look that immediately takes over his face.

He lets out a chuckle, happy that you’re not making this awkward, “Really though. Thank you.”

You can only shrug, “You should really text Jisoo though, she’s not gonna reject you and if you kiss her like that she’s definitely not gonna turn down any offer you give her.”

Jungkook doesn’t fully believe you but he knows he has to bite the bullet and do it. He gives you a hug and says goodnight before he shuffles out of your dorm and into the elevator.

Now that he’s in a brightly lit place he once again looks at the warped reflection in the elevator doors, using it to fix his hair the best way he can and adjust his shirt and jacket to cover the wet spot on his crotch before he exits it.

Joy spots him as hes about to leave and lets out a whistle, “Y/N take you for a wild ride huh?” She teases him and he blanks, not really knowing how to respond until the automatic excuse comes out, “We were working on a project.”

“Mhm, some project. Bye Jungkook.” She waves him off with a giggle, enjoying how flustered he gets.

Jungkook all but runs across the quad, wanting to get out of the cold as well as into his room to slide out of his sticky ass underwear and pants. He uses his key card to open the dorm buildings doors, waving at Baekhyun before hopping on the elevator and making his way up to his floor.

When he slides into his room he really wasn’t expecting to see Taehyung still awake, resting on his bed against the wall where the giant canvas of his ass was hung up.

“Oh, hello.” Taehyung spoke up first, his eyes raking over Jungkook entirely. “How was the progress on your project?”

He knew Taehyung was asking an innocent question but Jungkook couldn’t help the pang of guilt he felt at it. He knew you and Taehyung weren’t together but he still felt like he was crossing a line by letting you give him an orgasm without his roommate knowing. Especially since Taehyung always boasted about the amazing orgasms you gave him, it almost felt like those were reserved for Tae only and he had just snatched one off the shelf.

“Oh, it was good.” He spoke up quietly, walking over to his closet to grab his pajamas, “Got a lot done actually.”

Taehyung had his eyes glued to Jungkook’s back as he rummaged in his closet. There was something off about him and he just couldnt put his hands on it until Jungkook slid off his jacket and shirt for his pajama shirt and turned around without a second thought to slide his pants off.

“Dude!” Taehyund gasped in shock, his fingers pointing directly at Jungkook's cum stained pants.

Jungkook looked down with wide eyes when he realized Taehyung could clearly see. “Did you catch a glimpse of Y/N’s tits when you were studying and busted a nut in your pants or what?”

Mm well no actually just good ole fashioned dry humping is what he wanted to respond with but he chose to deny until he died. “No! I spilled something on my pants at her dorm.”

Taehyung didn’t believe his horrible excuse for a second but didn’t want to continue to tease him, “Whatever dude, go shower. I don’t blame you, she’s hot I bust a nut just looking at her too, now imagine what her pussy feels like.”

Jungkook didn’t even want to respond to his raunchy comment, simply gathering his shower cubby and towel before leaving to go shower. Except now thanks to Tae he really couldn’t stop wondering what your pussy would feel like around his dick.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts #new

322 notes · View notes

freddiesaysalright · 5 years ago

Note

L8 (with cabin), D1 & D7 smut with a virgin Reader and the oldest Roger you’re comfortable writing smut with🧡🖤🧡

Boy howdy did I get carried away with this one! Smut is under the cut (since I slipped and wrote 2.4K words lmao)

L8 In the woods (w/ cabin) D1 They’ll really make anything sexy these days, won’t they? D7 How do you like my costume? It would look better on the floor.

“How do you like my costume?” you asked Roger as you stepped out of the bathroom and twirled.

You were dressed as Dorothy Gale, but a spicier version. You were pretty sure you were ready to take the next step with Roger, and this little Halloween getaway was the perfect time to do it. He’d rented a cabin and it was so cozy. It would be your first time spending the night together.

“They’ll make anything sexy these days, won’t they?” Roger replied with a teasing grin.

You pouted. He gently strummed your lip with his finger, making you laugh.

“I’m only joking, love,” he said. “It looks great.”

“Thank you!”

“It would look better on the floor,” he said.

His tone was off-the-cuff, but it made you blush and look at the floor. You’d been avoiding intimacy with Roger because his experience intimidated you. Your experience was nonexistent. The imbalance made you feel especially vulnerable. This comment made you feel he noticed you were avoiding it, and it was bothering him.

He cocked his head to the side when he saw you get upset.

“S’the matter, love?” he asked. “I’m teasing you.”

You bit your lip. “I know, Rog, it’s just…”

“What?” he pressed.

He stepped in front of you, taking your chin and making you look at him. His eyes were so beautiful and kind. He wasn’t bothered at all. He was worried about you.

“Roger, I...there’s a reason we’ve never spent the night together,” you said. “It’s because, well, I’ve never spent the night with anyone. I’m a virgin.”

His eyes widened, but he softened quickly.

“There’s no pressure,” he assured you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’m surprised. I mean, you’re twenty-five. But it doesn’t upset me or anything. I really care about you, Y/N.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. “But, we’re adults. And...and I want to have an adult relationship with you. You’ve got ten years on me, so I know you’re experience is significantly more, and my biggest concern is that I might...I might not please you.”

You finished meekly, losing your nerve as you spoke.

“What do you want?” Roger asked kindly. “D’you want me to make love to you tonight?”

The way he looked at you and his consideration made you want him all the more.

“I - I don’t want to wait until tonight,” you stammered. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I want you, Roger. I want you so bad.”

He smiled warmly at you. “I’ll give you anything you want, love. But there are a few things you can do for me.”

“What are they?” you asked nervously.

“I need us to have constant communication, alright?” he said. “I’ll check in with you a lot, but if at any point you change your mind or want something else, promise you’ll tell me.”

“I promise,” you assured him.

“Don’t get frustrated,” he said. “I’m gonna go really slow because you’re nervous.”

“I’m not,” you tried to protest.

“Darling, you’re shaking,” he chuckled. “But I’m gonna do everything I can to make you relaxed and comfortable. So, I want you to start.”

“What?”

“Kiss me,” he said. “I want you to feel like you’re in control.”

You stood up on your toes and kissed him. This, you knew you could do. You had made out with Roger countless times and his kisses always made you pretty desperate. Usually, after he left your house, you’d spend some significant time with your vibrator to get what you needed.

“Take this stupid cosutme off,” you breathed into him.

Chuckling, he reached around and unzipped it, letting it fall to the floor, where he kicked it away. You had not yet donned your stockings or red heels, so you were left only in your bra and panties. Roger ran his hands up your sides and you closed your eyes to the warm feeling. You reached back and unhooked your bra, tossing it away as well.

“Beautiful tits, love,” he said as he admired them.

“Touch them, please,” you said. “However you want. I’m never really able to do it myself.”

Roger shrugged his jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt before he stepped toward you again. You gazed at the little peek of his chest before looked back up at him.

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asked.

You nodded and eagerly pushed his shirt off his shoulders. Before you could do anything, he bent down to massage your breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around you.

“Oh!” you gasped. “Roger!”

“You like that?” he asked.

You nodded, gripping his shoulders tightly as the pleasure built. You let out high, breathy whimpers as he kneaded them and he smirked when you squeaked at the gentle nips.

He stopped when he saw you were getting overwhelmed and looked at you.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you said with a nod. “I want more.”

“Alright, love,” he said. “I’ve got an idea. Lie back on the bed for me and show me how you touch yourself.”

“Panties on?” you questioned.

“However you want,” he replied.

You got comfortable, lying on your back and relaxed against the pillows. It felt a bit odd to do this with Roger watching you, but he was making you so comfortable it was hard to feel awkward.

“I usually start by thinking about you,” you told him.

He groaned and you saw his hand twitch toward his crotch, but he held back. He wanted to last for you.

“Then I just rub my clit through my underwear,” you said. “Like this.”

You brought your middle finger to your damp panties and began rubbing soft circles on your throbbing clit.

Roger crawled up on the bed and lay between your legs, his shoulders lining up with your knees. You let out a small whine as you added some pressure. Then Roger reached forward and moved your hand out of the way, replacing your finger with his own, rubbing right where you needed him. You hips jumped off the bed.

“There?” he said with a smug look on his face.

You could only nod as you moaned. You felt your pussy clench as you got wetter. His touch was maddening. You could hardly keep still and he was just barely touching your clit.

“Fuck, I wanna taste you,” he groaned. “Want me to use my mouth?”

“P-please!” you whined. “But take them off.”

He knew what you meant and he slowly tugged your panties down your legs. You shivered as you were completely exposed to him but he shuffled up the bed to get closer and you couldn’t miss the excitement on his face.

“I can’t believe I’m the first to touch you,” he sighed. “To taste you. Fuck, Y/N, you’re beautiful.”

He pressed a kiss to your thigh, trailing up toward your center. When he skipped it, you huffed in frustration.

“I told you, love, we’ve gotta go slow,” he reminded you.

“You’re teasing me,” you protested. “That’s not the same.”

“Alright, if you want me to go on, I will.”

You loved the way Roger’s lips felt against yours. But they way they felt on your pussy trumped every kiss. Your back arched again and you cried out Roger’s name as he sucked your clit. His tongue explored your folds, making up and down strokes before rolling delicately over your clit. Your body trembled as you felt the buildup inside you. You already felt like a dam ready to break.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Oh, fuck, Roger, that’s good!”

He wrapped his arms around your trembling thighs. He worked you with his mouth until you burst, gushing into his mouth with an orgasm that had his name falling from your mouth over and over again as you caught your breath.

“Very good, love,” he praised, kissing up your stomach, letting you recover as he lay down beside you.

“It wasn’t too soon?” you wondered.

“I wanted you to cum,” he said. “It loosens you up.”

You nodded and saw that his cock was straining against his pants. You started to reach for it, but he grabbed your wrist.

“No, not tonight,” he said. “Tonight’s for you.”

“I want you to feel good too,” you argued.

“I will, believe me,” he assured you. “This is your night. Now, have you ever fingered yourself?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Sometimes. I can’t ever make it feel very good, though, so I usually only get off from clit stimulation.”

“It’s a tough angle, yeah,” Roger agreed. “Stay right there, okay? I’m gonna make it feel good.”

“Roger,” you said.

“Yes?”

“Will you take your pants off at least?” you requested.

He smiled, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and shimmied out of them. You could see his hard cock tenting his boxers. Oddly, it didn’t make you nervous. You were still pretty blissed out from that orgasm.

“Eyes here, love,” Roger said, tilting your head so you met his gaze.

He still lay beside you, his hand trailing gently down to your spread legs. He reached your core and toyed with your clit for a moment to warm you up. You whimpered and bucked into his hand. Then he sank his middle finger in and you gasped. His fingers were longer and thicker than yours, so even one felt more satisfying. His thumb found your clit and he started rubbing. Already, you clenched around him. Your head fell back and Roger scooted closer so he could kiss your neck.

“Want me to add another, darling?” he asked huskily.

Apprehensively, you nodded. You’d never been able to get two of your own fingers inside you without it being uncomfortable, but you’d never been this aroused in your life. Slowly, he pushed his ring finger in. Your legs stiffened as you felt the stretch. You held your breath.

“Breathe for me,” Roger reminded you.

You exhaled, and as you did, he was able to get the second finger completely inside. He just held them there a moment, thumb still working your clit to keep you wet and open.

“Relax,” he cooed. “Spread your legs a little wider for me. That’s it.”

When you did open your legs further, it helped. It felt amazing now. You clenched around his fingers and your felt him jerk beside you. You opened your mouth to offer again to help him out, but then - he curled his fingers. They hit your g-spot and he pressed down on it, making you scream.

“Oh shit!” you cried. “Oh fuck, Roger! Fuck!”

He began pumping in and out of you and you knew you were not going to last long the second time. It was completely overwhelming how lost in pleasure you were.

“Wait, Roger!” you said.

Immediately he stopped, and you whined.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I want to cum on your cock,” you said. “I’m ready.”

“Love, you’re still really tight -”

“Please!” you begged, grasping his arm and trying to pull him on top of you. “Please, Rog. Want you so bad.”

“Alright, love, one second,” he agreed.

Gently, he pulled his fingers out. That stung a little. Then he slipped his boxers off. His cock was thick and hard, the top leaking already. You gulped.

“Just so you know,” he began. “I’ve got the biggest cock in the world. You’ll be ruined for all other men from here on out.”

“Shut up!” you laughed, hitting him playfully on the arm.

He cupped your cheek in his hand, becoming serious.

“Are you sure, love?” he asked once more.

“Yes, Roger,” you replied. “Please.”

He kissed you, lining himself up at your entrance. Then, he pushed in. As the tip breached you, you hissed at the sharp pain. It made you squirm beneath him. He pressed on.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “You’re so tight, love. Feel so good around me, holy shit.”

“Roger,” you moaned. “It hurts.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you told him. “Please don’t stop.”

“Stay with me, Y/N, it won’t hurt for long,” he assured you.

He slowly got most of the way in and you winced. He adjusted his angle and his tip hit your g-spot, which made you moan. He gave you a moment to adjust. He was breathing heavily above you, jaw clenched as he held himself back from fucking you senseless.

“Am I bleeding?” you wondered.

“No, darling,” he said stiffly. “And you shouldn’t.”

“Sorry, Rog, I just need another moment,” you said, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“No problem,” he said, leaning down to kiss you neck again. But you could see his arms shaking.

You took in the feeling just a minute longer. You felt full. You clenched involuntarily.

“Oh, fucking Christ,” he groaned, hips jerking again as he relished the feeling of that.

“Oh!” you cried when that thrust felt...really good. “Rog, do it again.”

“You ready for me to move?”

“Please!”

He began a slow, even pace, carefully watching you for any signs of further discomfort. Your soft gasps turned into deep moans as the pain faded and pleasure took its place. He was so deep inside you, you could practically feel him in your stomach. His thrusts were short but evenly timed, giving you the right sensation and building you slowly back up toward your release. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, but the only thing you could manage to say was his name.

“C-close!” you managed at last.

His hand jumped to your clit, and together, you hurtled toward the edge. Your walls fluttered around him as you finally finished. Your orgasm triggered his and he finished inside. He stopped all stimulation and looked hard at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Was it good for you?”

“Yes,” you panted. “Amazing, Rog.”

“I’m gonna pull out,” he warned. “It might not feel nice.”

He wasn’t lying. He eased himself out of you and you yelped, fisting the sheets beneath you until he was all the way out. Then you relaxed again. You had tears in your eyes. Not because of the pain, but you were feeling incredibly vulnerable.

“What are you thinking, love?” he wondered.

“Roger, I love you so much,” you said. “Thank you for giving this to me. I don’t know anyone with a good first time experience and you made mine really special.”

“I love you too, darling,” he replied, gathering you in his arms and kissing your forehead. “I think we have many more special memories to make.”

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themandadolorian · 4 years ago

Text

Paz Vizla NSFW Alphabet

Originally posted by coredrive

A/N: okay tumblr was being dumb so I had to re-upload. So yeah, here is my - what is sure to be hot pile of garbage that I wrote at midnight last night lol. Listerally this is by far the most sinful thing I’ve ever written/posted so please don’t come for me. It took everything in me to post this in the first place 🙈

Warnings below the cut

Warnings: Pretty self explanatory? Y’all know how these things work. Smut, Paz has a breeding kink (obvi), and yeah. It’s just a bunch of sin y’all. I’m a hoe for Paz okay?

///

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Okay, as we all know Paz may appear intimidating and brutish, but he is a total fucking teddy bear and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. No matter how slow, sensual, rough, or fast he takes you, he will ALWAYS make sure you are taken care of afterwards. Whether it’s just a warm cloth or a full on shower he will make sure you are both clean before slipping under the covers and pulling you into his chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Okay I feel like Paz is like an ass and thighs kinda guy. I know, I know - super stereotypical guy stuff but like?? He has really big hands okay? And he loves to just grab handfuls of you and squeeze you. He loves wrapping his hands around your thighs and picking you up and pressing you to the wall when neither of you are patient enough to make it to the bed. But he also loves just taking handfuls of your ass in his palms as he fucks down into you.

OOF.

Yeah Paz is definitely an ass and thighs kind of guy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Okay - BITCH. We ALL KNOW that this big blue bastard has a fucking breeding kink, something that I will discuss further down the alphabet lol. So like his favorite place to cum is definitely inside you. ESPECIALLY if you aren’t on contraceptive (and have had the appropriate baby talk lol).

But despite that being his fave place, I definitely think he has a thing for seeing it on you too. I believe Paz is a very uh…territorial man - and if he’s in the right kinda mood I don’t think he would hesitate to

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Oof okay so thanks to @stubbychaos and @hdlynn for helping me with this one bc I was struggling lol. But this man DEF has a thing for wanting to be the submissive one sometimes. He’s never done it before but he’s always wanted to try it. But he will never for the life of him bring it up to you on his own. He has a reputation to uphold you know? But if you mention it first one day? Lord help him, he won’t hesitate before complying. You being in charge in the bedroom instead of him? Cuffing his hands together and magnetizing them to the hull so he has to beg to touch you?

Phew…yeah he’s into that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Paz is pretty experienced. I think he definitely knows what he’s doing in the bedroom when it comes to the act itself. HOWEVER - I don’t think this man has been in a lot of long term relationships? I feel like that is new to him,so while he knows what he’s doing and how to pleasure you, he is still learning the romantic dynamics lol.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

I definitely take Paz as a no-nonsense kind of guy, when he’s with you in that way (no matter how y’all are doing it lol) he wants to make sure you are getting the pleasure you deserve. And when he’s making love to you? Forget it man. This dude is so fucking serious and soft and just UGH. I don’t think he takes it lightly I guess is what I’m trying to say. Especially if you haven’t sworn the riddurok yet - being that vulnerable with you and placing that much trust in you takes a lot and I don’t think either of you really jokes around in the actual moment.

But Paz is definitely a funny guy. He won’t hesitate to tease you or cast a dirty comment your way when he has the chance. While he takes your relationship seriously he also has a sense of humor - especially leading up to the moment itself.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don’t think Paz really thinks about stuff like that tbh. His life is hectic - he has a job to do and people to protect so I don’t think he concerns himself with stuff like that. Really the only grooming he tries to keep up with is his facial hair, he makes sure to keep it neat under the helmet because if he didn’t it just causes him irritation. But he makes sure not to go completely clean shaven simply because he relishes in the noises you make when his scruff scrapes along the tender skin of your neck when he leaves kisses there - or even better - when it brushes along the inside of your thighs. Yeah, those noises are his favorite.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Paz is a total romantic and you can’t change my mind.

Like i said before, he’s never really done the long term relationship thing so he wants to do it right ya know? He’s always checking to make sure you’re okay and enjoying what he’s doing. Whispering sweet words of praise and pleasure into your ears as he thrusts into you. He just loves to be with you in every way possible, touching you, holding you - anything.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

He travels alot, and sometimes he’s away from you for longer than usual. This results in some more….depraved evenings alone in the refresher. It’s even worse when you send him a particularly lewd hologram of yourself. Then he definitely can’t help himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Okay - here we go friends. I am finally going to address two anonymous asks I have gotten in this section, SO:

● Breeding kink: This man has one, plain and simple. He honestly discovered it by accident once when he saw you holding one of the foundlings in the covert, rocking it to sleep. From that moment he was a goner. The minute you walked into your shared quarters, he had stripped you both down and was on you the moment you were bare before him. Just the thought of you, belly swollen with his child? A future Mandalorian to carry on his name? Yeah. the minute that image crosses his mind he’s gone - spending himself inside you before pulling you to his chest and rolling onto his side, never leaving you the entire time.

● Biting/Marking: Again, another ask I received that I have been gaining the courage to post lol. As stated earlier, Paz is somewhat territorial and kind of protective. He in no way sees you as some kind of property, but when you are together, he wants everyone to know. The morning After a night of passion when he returns from a mission, he sees the bruises on your hips and the dark purple marks on your breasts and neck and he almost takes you again right then and there. From that moment, he makes it a personal mission of his to leave behind at least a couple pieces of evidence. Not that you are complaining of course.

● Okay this one is kinda mean I think but - idk why - but I think this man has a thing for making you cry 🙈 Obviously this isn’t in a bad or painful kind of way. More, he wants to see you cry out in pure euphoria. You’ve gone several rounds, and he’s pulled more than a few orgasms out of you and that’s when he sees the wet trails down your cheeks.The first time he was worried - afraid that he had hurt you ror pushed you too far, but you explained that it was just that good - OOOO this man just keeps on going.

● Finally, working off that last one, Paz 100% has a praise kink. He just absolutely loves hearing your gasps of pleasure and encouragement to ‘keep going’ or ‘just like that Paz, maker-!’. It just spurs him on because he knows he’s doing at least one thing right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Paz definitely prefers either your quarters on the ship or in the covert. He doesn’t really like wearing the helmet when you are together like that and the only place he feels safe enough to remove the helmet is in those two places. Plus, it’s just more comfortable.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

YOU WEARING HIS SHIRTS. That man turns feral if he sees you in one of his shirts. The way it’s so large on you yet only comes to about mid-thigh? Yeah, that is an instant turn on for him 100%.

Also as weird as this might sound he absolutely loves it when you tease him. Mainly because he knows when you do that, that neither of you are aiming for a soft experience lol. Usually when you tease him by wearing those tiny shorts you own or by flirting with someone else just to get his attention, you all won’t even make it back to the safety of your quarters.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Paz will not do ANYTHING that involves hurting you. Period. One of his biggest fears is accidentally hurting or losing the ones he loves, so there is no way he will intentionally cause you pain or harm. I think the only exception to that would be like spanking? But he only does that if you beg him too. But absolutely no knife play, etc…

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man will Happily go down on you. And he’s definitely skilled at it. Honestly I think going down on you is probably one of his favorite things and he does it every chance he gets. Because not only does it bring you pleasure, but he loves the way you taste and the way your fingers pull at his hair as you beg him for release….yeah it’s just all around a good time for every one lol.

He also likes receiving but I think he definitely prefers to give rather than receive.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again I think he’s both. However, I think he leans towards fast and rough, mainly because sometimes all you both have time for is a quick bout before he’s off to his next responsibility or job. But don’t put it past the man to make that up to you. He is always slow and sensual when he gets the chance. Taking his time to touch you and explore every inch of you in an effort to memorize the expanse of your skin and the things that make you tick.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As stated above, I think quickies can be a regular occurrence between you two, but I also don’t see them happening like all the time, if that makes sense?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I think Paz is game to try out some new stuff. Again as long as it’s nothing that could harm either one of you, I don’t think he would mind straying from his comfort zone.. Especially if you’re the one asking.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Listen…this man FUCKS. Like a lot and for a really long ass time. Like each round may not last like super duper long (unless he’s feeling like a tease then he will drag each one out as long as possible) but this man can go so many rounds. He fucking loves it too.

Sometimes you won’t even have time to catch your breath before Paz is ready to go again and there are tears in your eyes as he just continues to rail into you despite you both having reached your highs several times. This man’s stamina is like no other y’all.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don’t think Paz is really into toys himself. I mean if it’s something that you want to do/try he won’t say no but I don’t see him being the one to seek them out or own them. And if he did use one it would definitely be on his partner rather than himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Honestly? Paz can be such a fucking tease. I don’t think it’s something he does like all the time or anything but if he’s in a particular mood or you’ve been a brat all day, he will not hesitate to be unfair as hell. Like just going until you are right on the edge of release and then stopping completely, making you cry out in frustration before picking up again and doing the same thing over and over again. He pretty much won’t stop until your sobbing beneath him begging him to let you cum. Them and only then will he relent and finally, finally, get you to that point of release, following not far behind you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

hmmm…I feel like he definitely has a thing for an SO that is smaller than him. More in the sense that they are just shorter. He likes to tease you or put things on taller shelves so you have to ask for his help. But he also loves it because it makes it easier to pick you up and toss you onto the bed. Or, since he’s a lot larger than most people, he loves the way his hands look on your body. The way they just like engulf you and make you shiver - yeah idk. But he’s into that lol.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Do I really even have to say it? Because I feel like we all know lol. But Paz is not lacking in that department at ALL. This man is very blessed, well-endowed, whatever the hell you want to call it okay? Honestly the first time you see it you’re a little bit concerned for your own well being lol.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty fucking high lol. Paz is a horny bitch and that’s a hill I will die on.

He just loves being with you and near you in any way possible, but he especially loves being with you in this way. As stated several times before, having never been in many relationships, he relishes in the trust and vulnerability that he is allowed to have with you. But beyond all of that kind of stuff he just loves pleasuring you. Loves hearing the whines and gasps you let out as he fucks you. He loves the way your hands grip his shoulders or the way your nails rake down his back, reminding him the next day how much you enjoyed it. Yeah, Paz fucks okay? And he enjoys it a lot lol.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don’t think he’s one of those people to just konk out afterwards lol. But he also doesn’t stay awake for too long. He will make sure you are both cleaned up before slipping back into bed next to you, pulling you to his chest and running his hand gently up and down your back. Tracing every little dip and curve of your body, until your breathing evens out and your warm breath fans over his chest. This is usually when he will fall asleep. He will drift off to your steady breaths and the feeling of your skin against his own.

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she-rainbow · 5 years ago

Text

Fireside

Better late than never. I wrote this for @sherawintergiftexchange for @the-steampunk-dreamer whos prompt was “catradora, enemies to friends to lovers, but not quite lovers yet,” so of course I just wanted to write these two nerds healing.

“I’m sharing a tent with Mermista?” Catra hissed under her breath at Glimmer who looked like she couldn’t be bothered with the next thing that came her way. She made her way through the labyrinth of tents and clicked her tongue as she told Catra to walk with her if she was going to waste her time complaining.

“Eternia, Catra, I’m sorry. It was the only way to make the tent assignments work.” She said. “Your only other option would have been Adora, so I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“Can’t I switch with your tentmate? We’ve got plenty of experience sharing a confined space without killing each other.” Catra flashed her a grin, but Glimmer was thoroughly unimpressed.

“No, Mermista specifically requested not to be put with Bow because quote he’s a ‘wet blanket,’

Whatever that means.” She signed a document that a general held out to her, then turned to Catra. “Plus Bow and I need to talk about some things.”

“Wait.” Catra zigged through a few tents as Glimmer teleported away from her. “Talk to Bow about things. What things?”

A sparkly blush rose to Glimmer’s cheeks as Catra caught up with her. “Nothing. Just things. I’m not talking about this with you.”

“So there’s something to talk about.” Catra said, raising a brow and crossing her arms.

Glimmer growled and shot a tiny sparkle at Catra’s ear, which she batted away. “Enjoy your night with Mermista.”

“C’mon Sparkles. She’s not exactly my biggest fan.”

“None of the Princesses are your biggest fans. What do you propose I do about that?”

“Glimmer, she’s going to kill me in my sleep.”

“Sleep with one eye open!” Glimmer suggested with a hyper bright smile.

“She still mad about the whole Salineas thing.”

Glimmer crossed her arms. “I think she might have a right to still be mad about that one.” She laughed at the exhausted look Catra gave her. “Fine. I’ll talk to her. At least convince her not to kill you tonight… unless you do something to deserve it.”

“Very funny, Sparkles.”

“I have to go. Good night, Catra.” She called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the nearest tent, leaving a dull trail of purple glitter behind.

Catra took a deep breath and crossed her arms. “You don’t have to pretend you weren’t listening,” She tossed at the shadow who’d been sitting, cross-legged around the corner where she and Glimmer had turned.

“Just seemed polite.” Adora said, not looking up from whatever she was fiddling with in her hands. She dropped the obscure object in her lap and fumbled at a pouch on her belt and quickly tossed its contents to Catra who caught them—earplugs. Adora finally met Catra’s eyes with a small smile. “Mermista snores. You might want those.”

“Oh,” Catra blinked a little bewildered. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Adora replied, dusting herself off and sending Catra a quick wave. “Night, Catra.”

Catra could hardly reply before Adora had fled the scene, and she was left with earplugs in her hand and nothing to do but go back to her tent.

Catra tiptoed across the campsite, following the scent of the night’s rations. For all their shortcomings in war strategy and army building, Princesses beat the Horde where food was concerned. Every dinner she’d had in the Rebellion far exceeded the tasteless slock of ration bars in the Horde. She snuck a few sausages and headed for the remains of the evening’s fire. The moons had disappeared on the horizon, but the newly hung stars blinked down at the team’s setup. They were on their way to the entrance of the Heart.

That brief interaction earlier with Adora had been the most they’d talked since she’d joined the Rebellion. For the entire journey, and ever since Catra had emerged from a Prime ship escape pod hand in hand with Glimmer, Adora had been quiet, simmering, like a silent anger was constantly percolating inside her. Adora isolated was something Catra wasn’t used to. Back in what felt like another life, she spent every second with Catra, and when Catra took to her own solitude in the highest reaches of the Fright Zone, Adora had a trove of friends and admirers to occupy her, before she would look for Catra. She always eventually looked for Catra.

Adora didn’t look for anyone much these days. Her friends checked on her — Bow and Glimmer caught her after strategy meetings, only Bow ever made her crack a smile though. Glimmer usually seemed to just deepen the concerned crease in Adora’s brow. She trains constantly, even with Scorpia sometimes, and flinches anytime someone anyone mentions She-Ra, so mostly no one does. Her goal is clear: to bring back She-Ra or at least train hard enough to make up for the difference. Micah was teaching her in magic, and she’d managed pale gold beams of light, sharp, weak, nothing like the power of the sword, nothing like She-Ra. It was all dumb Princess stuff to Catra, or dumb sorcerer stuff, which was even worse. One eight-foot goddess wouldn’t make the difference defeating Prime.

Catra focused her attention the place she’d felt strongest in a fight, the war room. Meanwhile Adora meditated, avoided her friends and gave only small indications she was listening during strategy meetings.

Adora’s solitude might have explained her avoidance of Catra if it had been subtle enough to be anything but deliberate. After Catra’s first Princess Alliance meeting (where Glimmer had proclaimed to a half-anxious, half-angry Princess Alliance that Catra was the Rebellion’s new strategist and that was that), Catra tried to talk to Adora and was abruptly blown off with a lame excuse. She’d been lucky enough to have Double Trouble in the wings during that one. “Tough break, kitten.” They’d drawled, emerging from the shadows. Catra didn’t try again after that.

But something was changing, slowly, every day. Adora maintained eye contact during planning sessions and gave the smallest of chuckles when Glimmer and Catra snipped banter at each other at strategy meetings. They hadn’t talked though, really talked. As Catra heard one of Prime’s ships whizz overhead, she was reminded that they might never talk. Not before the world truly ended.

“You can’t sleep either?” A voice broke through her thoughts. Her vision focused, and she realized the visibility hadn’t come from the stars and her night vision. The fire on the outskirts of their camp emitted a gentle glow like it had been minded for hours.

Catra took the question as an invitation and sat wordlessly next to Adora who was crouched over a small branch in her hands. She took her knife to it again and again in what looked like the calmest act of aggression Catra had ever seen until she realized the cuts in the wood were purposeful. A small design was making its way up the sides of the branch. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“It’s called whittling.” Adora answered not looking up. The front few strands of her hair were pulled up and out of her face, but a stray bang fell onto her forehead. Catra pretended not to notice. “It’s where you cut into a piece of wood and turn it into something else.” She held up another carving in her lap, a small owl she’d cut into a stick the size of her thumb.

“You had time to pick up a hobby?” Catra asked.

Adora shrugged. “We travel a lot.” She looked up at Catra. “What kept you up?”

Her mind fluttered briefly to Mermista, how she could easily blame it on her snoring, how Adora gave her shoddy earplugs that couldn’t block out the sound. But they were a peace offering, and for once, Catra wanted to be at peace too. Glimmer had been telling her she needed to be more honest with herself and others. She could start here. “Nightmares.” She answered simply, hoping Adora wouldn’t make her elaborate. She didn’t know if she could explain her night terrors to the person who’d so often starred in them.

“Me too.” Catra wondered how many of Adora’s nightmares she’d featured in.

She looked down at Adora’s hands for a subject change. “So, what’s that supposed to be?”

Adora flushed and ran her thumb across the side of her carving. “I swear I already knew what it was going to be before you got here.”

“What?”

“It’s a cat.” Adora held it up, indicating the angled top that would become the edges of ears.

Catra took the carving from her. “Eh, I don’t know. Something looks off.”

Adora laughed softly and snatched her totem back. “Well, you would be the expert. It’s not done yet.”

“So, how do you know what it’s going to be?”

“I don’t know.” Adora fixed her eyes on the unfinished branch as its polished side gleamed in the firelight. “It’s like the wood tells me what it’s going to be… That sounds dumb.”

“A little.” Catra smiled, then hesitated. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Adora seemed far away as she looked at the softly roaring flames in front of them. “Scorpia says you’re trying, so I should try too.”

The answer surprised her, but wasn’t strange. Her first night after returning from Prime’s ship, she’d stayed up all night talking to Scorpia, working through their problems, sharing their struggles, apologizing, so much apologizing. They hugged at the end of it, Catra actually sinking into her friend’s embrace. She vowed silently to never take Scorpia for granted again, then with a heavy sigh and great effort, she verbalized her promise. Scorpia had been her most staunch defender since, a role that Catra neither deserved nor particularly wanted in the face of Princesses she’d waged war against. Her anxiety spiked thinking of the two discussing her. “You talked to Scorpia about me?” She feigned nonchalance.

“More like, Scorpia talked to me about you.”

"Why?" The question had no bite.

"She asked why I was avoiding you."

"So, what did you tell her?"

Adora fixed Catra in a gaze before chewing on the inside of her cheek, calculating her words. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say. How I’m supposed to start."

"You’re in luck. You don’t have to start. I know what I want to say." Adora just stared at her dumbly. "I'm sorry."

Adora tilted her head still confused. "You’ve already apologized."

"Yeah, to the Alliance, to Sparkles and Flipper and Scorpia and that little ice girl. She’s still so upset about Princess Prom."

"Well, you did kind of ruin it."

Catra chuckled. "But I haven't apologized to you. I'm sorry, Adora. For kidnapping you. Stealing the sword. Fighting you. Not listening to you about the portal..." She paused, already exhausted with a list that couldn’t even begin to summarize all the crimes she committed against the only person she’d ever loved. “How do you say sorry for a million things you’ll never be able to make up for?”

Adora blinked, and the smile she gave was quiet as a whisper. “I guess you just keep trying.” After they shared a moment listening to the fire’s crackle, she continued. "I'm sorry too."

Catra had the audacity to scoff. "What for?"

Adora turned to face Catra. "I didn't just say it because I was dangling off a cliff. I never wanted to make you feel… like a sidekick or anything like that. I wasn’t always a good friend."

“I don’t exactly have much moral high ground where being a good friend is concerned.”

“Maybe,” Catra thought she saw the start of hesitation on Adora’s face, but it quickly melted away. “We could try again?” Only Adora could make a question feel unassuming and optimistic at the same time.

Catra smirked at her. This felt fragile and fresh, like any deviation could leave this little thing they’d built by the fire as shattered as the sword’s blade. Still, trying was all she’d done since she got here. “If you’re trying, I’m trying, Princess.”

When Adora went to pack up her bedroll the next morning, a small stick clattered onto the floor as she shook the blankets. She picked it up, recognizing her whittling project from the night before. She’d ended up leaving it by the fire in frustration over the ears. Catra was right; there was something off about them. Now, its ears were rounded, face narrower, eyes smaller. There was a note wrapped around it. In scrawled letters it read, “It told me it was a mouse.”

Her hands closed around the note and she grinned, remembering the last time she’d found a mouse in her bed, also set there by Catra. So much had transpired between them, and Adora hadn’t thought she could ever get that relationship back, wasn’t even sure if she wanted to. But it gave her hope that things were changing.

#she ra winter gift exchange #she ra secret santa #catradora

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sweetbitterpdf · 5 years ago

Note

if you're still up for writing something... 25 and 47 from the cute shippy starters? 💞

( cute shippy starters !!! )

i’m always up for writing something, especially if it’s about elu, love those two boys w my whole heart. thank you for sending this!! <3

also this got long, like... 2.5k words long. and both the quotes are really early on, so that’s a bit oof. in any case, i hope you enjoy!!

25. “I can’t believe you talked me into this” & 47. “No one needs to know.”

Lucas stands in the doorway, watching Eliott fiddle with what he’s been referring to as “the set,” which in reality, is only his bedroom. It’s in a cleaner state than usual— there’s typically significantly more dirty laundry littering the floor. It almost looks like an actual film set, but there’s something about it that looks too lived in, too Eliott for Lucas to think of it as anything else than his best friend’s bedroom.

“Okay, so here’s what I was thinking,” Eliott starts, turning back to face him. “You wake up alone in your bed. The person you slept with is gone. Part of you knew this would happen, but another part of you hoped that they would stay.” Lucas had already been told the premise for Eliott’s latest short film— a project for his intro to filmmaking class— and he was too taken aback when Eliott asked him to star in it to even think about refusing. “You think about what you did last night, what you felt, and your hands trace the lines that their hands drew on you.” Eliott traces his hands along his own arms to demonstrate, and Lucas’ eyes follow the movement. “Think of longing, searching for someone that always seems just out of reach.”

And, naturally, his traitorous brain thinks of nothing but Eliott.

Eliott, his best friend, who knows him more than anyone else. Who he can sit in silence with and still have a good time. Who he doesn’t need to make plans with, he can just show up on his doorstep with a text sent five minutes ago and come inside. Who he’s more comfortable around than he is around himself.

Eliott, who Lucas is madly, foolishly, completely in love with.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” He says, trying his hardest to tear himself away from his thoughts, trying to make light of the situation. It proves successful when Eliott chuckles at him— but unfortunately, it also makes something foreign flutter in the pit of his stomach.

“May I remind you, I didn’t have to do a whole lot of talking. I asked you if you would star for me, and you said yes pretty much immediately.” Lucas rolls his eyes and tries to brush it off. But he can’t help but think about the fact that he would agree to absolutely anything Eliott asked him. “No one needs to know— no one in my class knows you exist. I can request that my prof does a solo viewing, if that would make you feel better. Plus, I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d rather have as my muse.” Lucas’ stomach does a flip when Eliott calls him his muse. It repeats in his head, echoing, my muse, my muse, my muse.

“I’m sure there are plenty of other people who would pay good money to be your muse.” Lucas scoffs, trying with everything in him not to blush. He shrugs, “Show it to whoever you want, I don’t really care that much.” Eliott nods, and then claps his hands together.

“Now, shirt off.” Eliott is really making it hard for Lucas to keep his blush at bay. It’s just for the film, he reminds himself. You need to stop, he doesn’t feel the same. “You can keep your shorts on, since the sheets will cover them. Get on the bed— yeah, just like that. Get comfortable.” Lucas lays on his back, pulling the sheets around his waist, moving the pillows around until he settles down against them. “Just let me check how you look in the camera.” Eliot says, stepping away. He fiddles with the camera’s settings, before looking back around it at Lucas. “Okay, maybe try tucking one of your hands behind your head?” Lucas follows Eliott’s instructions, but tucking his hand under the pillow causes Eliott to scrunch his nose up. “Nah, actually put it back where it was before.” He obeys again, and Eliott nods, satisfied. “Lean toward the camera a bit? Don’t look into the lens, though.” He stares at one of the corners of Eliott’s bedroom, and wonders how he managed to get himself into this situation. Wonders if there’s any way to get himself out of it, back into safe territory. “Stay right there, that’s perfect.” Eliott moves the bedsheets around a bit before returning to the camera. “Alright, I think we’re ready for the first shot. Look off into space, you’re thinking of last night. You’re alone, and you really thought they’d be here with you when you woke up.” He conjures images of him and Eliott. They come easily. “Okay, now trail your fingers down your jaw, your neck, your torso. Remember, you’re tracing where they kissed last night.” He thinks of Eliott kissing down his neck, and his breath catches in his throat. “Think of the fact that you thought you had something— and now the morning has come, and they haven’t even left a note.” He thinks of the fact that this is all these thoughts will be— thoughts. “Roll over, and check your phone.” He obeys again, rolling over to check his phone. There aren’t any texts, he sighs, trying his best to act, and not to project his own emotions too much. “They haven’t texted, either. You think of reaching out to them, but you don’t. You’re scared.” He’s scared, of him and Eliott, “Scared of them not responding,” Scared of Eliott not feeling the same way, “Of them not feeling the same way.” Even more scared of the possibility, small as it may be, that Eliott does. “Cut.” Eliott’s voice rings through the otherwise quiet room, and it brings Lucas back down to earth. “Lucas, that was... wow, you’re a natural.” Lucas tries to ignore the way his heart pounds against his ribcage.

They shoot a couple more scenes in the same manner, and Lucas thinks of Eliott the entire time. He thinks of telling him, every time Eliott gives him a wide-eyed compliment, shocked at how realistically he’s acting. It’s you, the Lucas in his head says, it’s because I’m thinking of you. They finish just at the sun begins to set, and Lucas realizes, bittersweetly, that he’s spent all day in Eliott’s bed.

“Alright, I think that’s everything!” Eliott puts his hands on his hips, coming to the side of the bed. “That’s a wrap.” He says in his best mock-director voice. “Thank you for doing this Lucas, I... I really appreciate it.” The look on Eliott’s face is so sincere that Lucas has to look away.

“Any time.”

“I’m not gonna let you go home hungry— pizza and netflix?” It’s a sacred tradition between the two of them, at this point. Done an important assignment? Pizza and netflix. Having a shitty day? Pizza and netflix.

“When have I ever said no to that?” Lucas says, and Eliott grins, already dialing the number for the favourite pizza place.

---

They’re sat on Eliott’s couch shortly after, flipping through the different movies and TV shows, trying to figure out something to watch. The pizza is steaming on the table, and Lucas takes his first slice.

“So, what was the inspiration for this one?” Lucas asks. His favourite part of hanging out with Eliott when he’s in director-mode is hearing about his inspirations. He gets inspiration from anywhere and everywhere, and every film he makes comes from a completely different place.

“Oh, you know,” Eliott shrugs, “I wanted a different take on all of the cheesy romance movies that are always being made.” Ah, yes, one of Eliott’s biggest pet peeves. Sometimes they’ll watch a popular rom-com and point out all of the flaws, laughing together at every cringe-worthy moment. “Not every love story ends happily.” Lucas’ brows furrow in concern. Eliott doesn’t look happy as he explains. “Sometimes the love interest doesn’t feel the same.” Eliott looks... hurt. “Sometimes the longing never ends.” Why does he look so hurt?

“That’s dark.” Lucas says, trying his best to feign nonchalance. In reality, though, he’s planning a revenge plot again whoever it is that made Eliott feel this way, whoever gave him inspiration from such a dark place.

“It’s true, though.” When Eliott returns his focus to the movie, Lucas tries to do the same, but it proves unsuccessful. He flicks his gaze over to Eliott every couple of minutes, and his stomach lurches whenever he sees that Eliott is doing the same. They’re quiet for a long time, and during the silent moments of the film, Lucas can hear the way that Eliott’s breath shakes.

“I wasn’t being entirely truthful.” Eliott says, hesitantly. Every word feels like a step, and Lucas looks over at him, the screen illuminating his face.

“Hm?”

“When you asked about my inspiration.” He says, finally turning to Lucas. “That is my inspiration, but it was only part of it.” There’s something in Eliott’s eyes, something that he can’t place.

“Oh?”

“And I want to tell you the rest. But I only want to if you want to hear it, because it might... Change things.” Lucas can feel his heart start beat harder and faster.

What?

“Change things?” He asks. Eliott takes a breath.

“Between us.” Another breath, “And I’m not sure I want that, but I also want you to know.”

“Well, I’d like to know.” Lucas says without hesitation. “But I don’t want you to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with, so you don’t have to.” He doesn’t want Eliott to do anything that he doesn’t want— he wants nothing but safety and happiness for him. And he doesn’t look very happy right now.

“Keeping this in is more uncomfortable than telling you would be, I think.” What? Lucas’ brain repeats. He doesn’t think that going back is a possibility, now. If Eliott doesn’t tell him, he thinks he’ll be left wondering for the rest of his life.

“Okay. Well then I want to know.”

“I wanted you to star in it because it’s about you.”

Lucas is pretty sure that his heart stops.

“It’s... It’s what?”

“I wrote it about you.” Eliott repeats, and everything in Lucas’ body tenses, unable to process what he’s hearing. “Well, I wrote it about me, but I wrote it about our friendship.” All Lucas can do at this point is listen. “About how I don’t want to ruin things, about how I’m terrified of you not feeling the same. About how I’m scared that being friends with you isn’t enough, for me.” Lucas thinks of the content of Eliott’s film, all of the longing, all of the pining, all of the defeat. It makes him sick to his stomach, how they’re both been feeling the same thing but were too scared to say anything. “About how I feel closer to you than I do anyone else, but you always seem just beyond my reach.” They’re both quiet, then, and Lucas is speechless. He tries to find something to say and comes up empty, empty, empty. “Please say something.”

“Eliott,” is where he chooses to begin. “What are you saying?” Because, really, this can’t be happening. This is impossible, in every sense of the word. Before Eliott can say it, he’ll tell Lucas that he’s joking, or Lucas will wake up from the single most vivid dream of his entire life, or—

“I’m saying,” Eliott swallows, hard. “I’m saying that I’m in love with you.” Lucas’ eyes go wide, at Eliott’s words— but more than anything that they hang in the in the air, echoing around Lucas’ head, tangible and memorable and real. But then Eliott moves back, tensing up, curling into himself. “We can forget this ever happened.” No. “You know what? Forget I ever said anything.” No!

“What if I don’t want to?” Lucas says quickly, and suddenly all of the things he’s ever wanted to say to Eliott are back in his head.

“What do you mean ‘what if you don’t want to’?” Eliott asks, and Lucas is fairly certain that their expressions match, though he can’t see his own. Surprise, awe, this can’t be real, how is this happening right now?

“What if I don’t want to forget about what you said?” Lucas says, inching closer to Eliott on the opposite side of the couch. “What if I’ve been dreaming of a moment like this, for years?” Their thighs are touching, now. “What if I’m in love with you, too?” Eliott’s arms reach up, hanging in the air. Lucas takes them, gently, and places them on his waist.

“Let me know if you don’t want—”

“Eliott, please kiss me.”

And then they are.

They’re kissing and kissing and kissing Lucas realizes that this is what kissing is supposed to feel like— distant stars exploding and everything aligning and warmth, so much warmth. Eliott’s hands move up to his face, cradling his cheeks, holding him like he’s something precious.

“Lucas, why are you crying?” He only realizes when Eliott asks him that hot tears are rolling down his cheeks. But he’s smiling, harder than he ever has in his life because this is better than anything his dreams could possibly supply him with.

“Because it’s you,” Lucas says, as if it’s the most simple and obvious thing in the world. “Because it’s always been you.” And it has. Lucas’ life is split into before and after he met Eliott, and his love— because that’s what it is, isn’t it?— puts all of his fleeting crushes on past classmates to shame. “Because I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with me.” He laughs in disbelief, kissing Eliott again. “What the fuck? What are the chances?” Eliott kisses the tears away as they fall.

“I don’t know.” He says quietly, pulling Lucas close. “Infinitesimally small, probably. But look at us— we still managed it, anyway.” Lucas nods at him, and they move together, one soul in two bodies as they kiss and laugh together, months if not years of tension finally dissipating.

“I haven’t done anything like this.” Lucas confesses, “I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know how it works.” If this had happened a few months earlier, Eliott would have been his first kiss and everything. But at a party earlier in the year, he had been drunk and frustrated— going mad with how he couldn’t stop thinking of Eliott— and kissed the first semi-attractive boy that came on to him. “But I want to figure it out, if it’s with you.”

Eliott nods, kissing him again. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?” Then they’re holding hands, and Lucas doesn’t think he ever wants to let go. “No assumptions, no expectations. We’ll take things one step at a time, day by day.”

“Hm, no, I don’t think so.” And Eliott looks scared for the briefest of moments. “I think we’ll do one better. I think we’ll take things minute by minute.” He kisses Eliott’s cheek, because he can— because he can do this as much as he wants, now.

“Minute by minute.” Eliott weighs it, testing the way it sounds. “I like the sound of that.”

#skam #skam france #elu #lucas x eliott #elu fic #god they really...... just ran off and pulled me along w them didn't they #2500+ words later..... They R In Love #the dynamic of this is interesting #i might add some and post this on AO3 at some point #cause i feel like it could use a bit more backstory #but yeah!! here's this i guess #hope u guys enjoy it!! <3 #asks;#mywriting;

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lucianacipriano · 5 years ago

Text

23:32

[Author’s Note: Similar to some of the other things I’ve written, this is based off of something from a roleplay I’m part of on Twitter. My writing partner has a headcanon she wrote about and incorporated into CuriosCat answer, and I saw a wonderful opportunity for angst. That being said, feel free to check out what sparked this by clicking the link. She also wrote Nadia’s version of everything. Enjoy!]

To say it had been a long day would be an understatement. Lucio had been in a mood, cursing and damning anyone and anything that had the misfortune of crossing his path. No matter what Julian was doing, he had to drop it for it was Jules this and Jules that. Oh, how he despised that name. Jules. And in that godawful accent of his. However, it was better than hearing him whine when saying his full name. There were days where hearing the Count just breathe would spark the most annoying headache and today had quickly become one of those days. Due to Lucio and his tantrums, it had become impossible for Julian to run off to meet with the Countess, per their ritual. He almost didn’t have time to write a note in place of meeting her, explaining why he couldn’t and how he’d make it up to her.

He could’ve used the excuse of being a doctor and needing to check on the Countess, but Lucio wasn’t entirely stupid. He’d catch onto that eventually and then when she’d actually need him, he wouldn’t be able to assist. Now wasn’t the time for the doctor to burn the only bridge he had with Lucio, no matter how one-sided their relationship was, as Nadia was expecting and needed a physician ready should anything happen.

In fact, that was one of the reasons he decided to spend most of his days at the palace. It was to watch over her. He knew from the moment her symptoms started to show that this wouldn’t be easy on anyone involved, but she was determined. Both she and Lucio seemed excited, and that was all the doctor needed to push aside his feelings and be professional. He had made the decision to cut back on their activities, but he couldn’t cut ties completely, so he had settled with daily talks and occasional kisses. Nadia had become his addiction and letting her go cold turkey would’ve ended badly. Plus, it would’ve looked suspicious to everyone else if he were to simply disappear once it was announced the Countess was with child. However, he had a feeling Lucio knew but didn’t care. Much like how Nadia knew of her husband and Valerius.

Lucio had clung to Julian as he tried to leave for the night, trying to get in bed with him by saying “C’mon, Jules. You’re the doctor. Don’t you know that this is the best way to make me feel better?”

Julian let out a heavy sigh as he managed to free himself from the Count’s grasp. “Lucio, no. I’m not in the mood to hear you talk about how great you were—“

“But you admit I’m great, right?” At that, Lucio had the smuggest smirk on his face, putting his hands on his hips in victory. What the doctor wouldn’t give to wipe that smirk off his face…

Julian deflated a little, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. “Shut up, you twit… Not today.”

The Count’s smirk quickly turned into a pout and then a sneer as he finally waved the doctor off and turned on his heel, walking away. “Fine, I’ll go bother Valerius. But don’t think this is over, Jules! I’ll remember this attitude when I finally—“

“Yes, yes, I know! Now good night, your royal highness,” he retorted with a role of his eyes and middle finger.

Finally free of the childlike count, Julian cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, letting out the biggest sigh. He stood there in silence for a moment or two before draping his long jacket over his arm and walking out of the palace. A hand came up to rub his face as he walked, mind shutting off from all of the useless work he was made to do throughout the day.

Maybe that was why Lucio kept him busy. The fact he knew and could potentially be jealous wasn’t something the doctor gave much thought to until now. In fact, he was mentally kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner because Lucio was childish enough to get jealous of his wife getting into the doctor’s pants when he couldn’t, despite having Valerius on the side already.

It was moments like this where he wished he had his sister or even aunt around, so he could talk about the things going on in his mind. But alas, he had made the decision to leave them behind years ago to study medicine. Now he only had Mazelinka who spent more time scolding him than anything. However, she had her moments when it was clear something was bothering the man. Part of Julian was hoping she would be home when he showed up and the other part hoped she wasn’t so he wouldn’t feel bad going to the tavern to drink the night away. Or maybe he’d actually get some sleep tonight.

The idea of sleep seemed far more attractive to the doctor than staying at the tavern. With that in mind, his feet took him down the paths through Vesuvia, avoiding most of the remaining evening traffic by slipping through dark alleyways. He knew the city like the back of his hand and found himself walking with his eyes closed for most of his journey.

By the time he reached Mazelinka’s cottage, he didn’t have the energy to take the window like he usually did. He was emotionally worn out and all he wanted to do was lie down. He opened the too-short door and called out for the owner.

“Mazelinka? Are you awake?” he closed the door behind him, hanging his coat on the hook next to the exit. He looked around, not seeing any signs of life, which either meant the old woman was asleep or out.

After checking behind the curtain that led to the small “bedroom,” if one was to even consider it that, and crouching down to check the cubby in the floor, Julian pressed his lips into a line before teeth sunk into the bottom one.

“Must be out raising Hell…” he murmured as he stood, knees cracking from the change in position.

He ran his hands through his hair as he walked back to the “bedroom,” falling face first onto the mattress. Arms snaked themselves under the pillow as he buried his face into it, eyes closed and mind completely off before he even landed.

The next thing Julian knew, he was being shaken awake by Mazelinka. He had no idea how much time had passed or when she had gotten back, but all he could focus on was how concerned she looked. He quickly sat up, any remaining tiredness being left on the pillow.

“Mazelinka, what happen—“

“There are guards… From the palace. What did you do, Ilyushka?” The woman’s voice dropped to a hiss as she questioned the doctor, hitting him in the shoulder.

He blinked repeatedly as he rubbed where she hit him. Guards from the palace? At this hour? He glared at the woman, reaching out to stop her hand before she could hit him again. “Stop. I didn’t do anything. I told you I’m just a friend and the leading physician.”

His voice trailed off as it finally hit him. Nadia.

He pushed the older woman onto the bed as he launched off of it, making his way to the door as fast as possible. He threw it open and was met with two out of breath soldiers.

“Dr—Dr. Devorak. You’re needed…”

“It’s the Countess!”

Julian didn’t need to hear anything else they had to say, nor did he say anything to Mazelinka before he took off running out of the cottage. Of course something would happen on the one night he tried to sleep! This was just his luck. Now he had to run as fast as he could through Vesuvia and pray to God she was still alive when he got there.

“Dr. Dev-Devorak! Wait up!” the two soldiers called for him, but he wasn’t listened. There were only two things on his mind at the moment and they were to keep running and prayers that Nadia was OK.

In his panicked state, he had made it to the palace in a third of the time it would’ve normally taken him. The gate was already open, presumably so that the soldiers who went to fetch him could make a hasty return.

There was no time for pleasantries as he ran by guards and burst through the doors leading into the palace. He looked around and saw one of the midwives who kept him updated on things as this was most definitely not his field of expertise. She was nervously chewing on her thumbnail as she paced from wall to wait. He came to a stop in front of her, breathing heavy. He tried asking where she was, but the words just wouldn’t come out. He was aware that he looked more like the distressed partner than the professional doctor, but he didn’t care. Part of his job, especially here at the palace, was to make sure nothing happened to his patients, and now something was happening to his dearest patients.

The midwife pointed in the direction of Nadia’s chambers and the doctor took off once more. This time, he didn’t run, needing to catch his breath before he ran into anyone else. He needed to keep his hands busy, so he decided to roll his sleeves up. His jaw was set as he made his way through the corridors, not stopping to talk to a soul until he reached the wing where everything was happening.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw the chaos flowing in and out of the Countess’ bedroom. He placed a hand on the wall to steady himself, taking a few seconds to pull himself together. He took a few deep breaths before he started walking towards the room.

“Someone update me. Now.”

His voice caught the attention of some of the maids that were hovering around. Those who turned to look at him looked as distraught as he felt, but he didn’t dare let that show now.

“M-milady… She said she wasn’t feeling well earlier…”

“So she… She retired early.”

“Then the next thing we knew, she was screaming for help.”

Julian listened to the women as they talked, trying to figure out when the Countess could’ve retired for the evening and if he was still here or not. There was good chance he was and that annoyed him. She knew she could always tell him if she wasn’t feeling well, so what stopped her this time?

“Coming through!” The head midwife called as she pushed through the door, carrying a small bundle, both her and the bundle covered in blood.

He swallowed hard as he took a step to the side, but the woman stopped in front of him anyway. “It’s no good,” she said. “Poor thing just wasn’t meant for this world…” While her voice had sadness to it, it also held a sense of professionalism as if this wasn’t the first time she had delivered a stillborn, and it probably wasn’t. “Dr. Devorak, while you’re here, can you declare her deceased?”

“A little girl, huh…” his voice was quiet as he carefully took the bundle from the midwife and examine her. He used the cloth she was wrapped in to wipe the slime and blood away, not wanting any of it to get on his hands if he is to go check on the Countess after this. However, doing so provided him with quite the shock. That wasn’t blonde hair underneath it all. It was red.

Oh, God. He felt sick.

“Dr. Devorak?” the midwife asked, noticing the change in the doctor’s demeanor.

“O-oh, yes… Uh… I—she’s gone. I can’t find a heartbeat and I cannot detect any signs of her b-breathing…” He turned his head into his shoulder and coughed into it, clearing his throat. Grey eyes scanned the hall for a clock, “Time of death 23:32.”

The midwife nodded as she carefully took the bundle from Julian. “I’ll take her down to the morgue for now. What should I tell the Count?”

“Don’t tell him anything. He’ll want to hear it from me. The rest of you can go. I’ll take care of the Countess for the rest of the night.” He grabbed the handle of the door and stopped, turning to look at the women. “Actually, one of you go and find Lucio. If he says he’s busy, tell him I sent you and for him to find me immediately.”

He stared each one of them down until he received some form of sign that they heard him and walked off. Once they were gone, he turned back to the door and pressed his forehead to it, taking deep breaths. It hadn’t crossed his mind that there was possibility of the child being his. He just assumed that it was always Lucio’s as he and the Countess were together more often than he was with her. He felt the tell-tale tickle in his nose and burning in his eyes.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

His knuckles tightened around the handle as he took one more breath. He needed to pull himself together for her. He was her doctor, for God’s sake! So without hesitating any longer, he opened the door and walked into the dark room. It looked like Hell had fallen upon it and he was sure everyone felt it had.

He motioned to the door with his head, signaling for the remaining maids to take their leave. “It’s okay. I’ve got it from here,” he tried to keep his voice soft, not wanting to disturb the Countess, but judging by the way she jumped, she wasn’t expecting him or anyone to speak up.

He stood off to the side as the maid’s finished gathering all of the soiled sheets and blankets, having laid fresh ones out for the Countess but were being kicked out before they could finish the job. Nadia was curled up in the chair, facing the balcony. Truth be told, he had never seen her so vulnerable and it broke his heart.

“Nadia, my dear… Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he asked quietly, gently, closing the door once the final maid had left with an armful of bloodied blankets.

There was a small sniffle from the Countess, serving as the only response he would get from her.

He frowned as he walked over to her and carefully lifted her up. “C’mere, love…” he cooed, taking her spot in the chair, now holding her on his lap. He kept his arms around her tightly as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. She wasn’t a woman who broke down easily and she never wanted the world to see her tears. So it didn’t surprise him that she shut down like this.

A hand rubbed soothing circles on her back as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He murmured sweet words to her. “Everything will be OK… I’m here.”

However, his words barely scratched the surface of his own emotions. He knew Nadia was going through something he could never understand and the last thing he wanted was to make her feel even worse by asking if she had seen it to. And he didn’t want to say anything else for fear she might blame herself for not calling for him sooner or blame him for not being here when he should’ve known better.

His thoughts were interrupted by Nadia’s soft voice after what felt like ages but was closer to thirty minutes. “Nadira…”

“Hm…?” He hummed, pulling back enough to look down at the woman in his arms.

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “That’s what I want to name her… Nadira.”

His heart either stopped or skipped a beat, he couldn’t tell. He smiled softly at her before nodding a little. “I think that’s a beautiful name, Countess…”

#nadian #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #ilyushka devorak #thearcana #content warning #trigger warning #stillbirth #loss of child #angst #the arcana drabbles #drabble #my rp partner answered a question and it prompted this

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