#to this person he hardly knows??? but clearly he wants to even if hes unsure of what sort of relatiionship he can handle

[averywiseanimatedcat]

6 months on it still thinking about how much of a shock that kiss must’ve been to Aziraphale.

The way Crowley steers his cooperation around really gave Aziraphale no warning at all. I was thinking about the development of their body language and it’s interesting to me so have an analysis under the cut.

Crowleys body language doesn’t change all that much over the course of their history. After their initial meetings as angels then in Eden, Crowleys already leaning in, orbiting and slinking around in quite a comfortable, familiar way. He tends to angle his body towards Aziraphale and stands quite close to him. He shows no sign of being fearful or uncomfortable. He quite happily moves in and around Aziraphales personal space without a care in the world even when they hardly knew each other yet.

Aziraphale however starts out looking guarded and unsure. He often stands facing forward while talking to Crowley sideways.

As we go through history Aziraphale becomes more comfortable. He opens up, starts to angle his body more towards Crowley, stops guarding with his hands and moves into Crowleys space on his own. And he starts to initiate physical contact where it’s not even necessary.

But the only times I can think of Crowley initiating physical contact before the kiss are ones that could easily be written off as just friendly or something else like

The wall push (which was aggressive)

The magic shop handshake is practical for sealing the deal

The handhold for the swap (mutual initiation, also practical we assume)

Sitting on the arm of the chair and kinda sorta leaning on Aziraphale when Muriel turns up

Crowley also tends to reject Aziraphales touch by removing himself from it like in the 1800’s, dodging with some roundabout footwork or leaning away. With moments like the pub or the shoulder touch he doesn’t have much of a visible reaction. Granted his eyes are hidden but Aziraphale probably thinks he just doesn’t like being touched. And yes, apparently they like holding hands, but do they know the other likes holding hands?

And I can hear you say ok then why does Crowley always put himself within touching distance if he don’t wanna be touched? Yeah, he does, but from Aziraphales perspective Crowley has always done this. He’s always been standing close or leaning in. It’s just how he is. Aziraphale is the one who’s changed. He’s become walking megaphone just blasting ‘please hold my hand before I discorporate on the spot pleasepleaselpleaseplease…’

Aziraphale is clearly a physical touch being. Brilliant acting and direction with Michael and how Aziraphale reaches for Crowley in the most stressful or emotionally charged moments. How there’s times where he seems to stop himself mid motion from touching Crowley. Such as after Gabriels appearance and Az is trying to keep Crowley calm

When Crowley says he’s going to take the humans out

And when Crowley goes to take Maggie and Nina out of the bookstore when Heaven and Hell are there. There is a safety element here as it’d be unwise for him to show his affection with Heaven or Hell around but Aziraphales first instinct is to reach for him. And again, great direction and acting with how David just gets out of the way like Crowley does it all the time. It’s another dance they do, Aziraphale pursues with physical affection, Crowley avoids. And Aziraphale doesn’t want to cross boundaries he’s perceiving Crowley to be putting up around physical affection so he’s holding it back.

And I think all that is part of the reason Aziraphale looks angry after the kiss. He’s possibly thinking (among many other things) that Crowley has rejected or ignored his physical affection all this time, making Aziraphale think he didn’t want it when he did. And that would be a painful thing to realise when you thought you yearned alone.

So I don’t blame Aziraphale for being upset when he gets this sudden enormous dose of physical contact out of the blue. He had no warning. On the contrary, Crowleys been acting like a big, prickly, demonic cactus. And it would’ve been endlessly confusing to be kissed after years believing the want for even the lightest of touches wasn’t reciprocated.

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 18

Title: Cheat Day

Pairing: Personal Trainer! Bucky x Curvy!female reader

Tags/warnings: SMUT, semi-public sex, shower sex (slippery), self-consciousness, mentions of cellulite/stretch marks, a smidge of fluff bc I can't resist, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), pet names (doll, baby), praise

Summary: You are a newbie to a gym and one of the regulars takes a liking to you and offers to help you on your gym journey. However, you notice that he's a lot more hands on than other trainers at the gym

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: maybe it should more aptly be gym buddy Bucky but alas... I had plans - I promise!! I might have to get my big fics out tomorrow rip me

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Warm Up

You hate, hate, hate HATE working out.

You hate the gym. You hate the way you look like a lost puppy and don't know which machine to use. You hate that you get so out of breath on a tread mill. You hate how your arms wobble when you lift weights.

And you hate that damn Stairmaster.

The only thing you love is perhaps how your deliciously thick thighs can support the heavy weights on the legs press like it's nothing. That would probably be it.

You take one of the last treadmills available, setting your bottle and towel down before fiddling with your earbuds. You're not really paying attention to the guy next to you; you're too focused on trying to get through your warm up.

You start at a walk. You're hair swishing as you lift it to your crown to tie with a hairband. The guy beside you picks up his pace and your eyes flicker over to him. And oh God. What a guy. He's tall and muscular, clearly a regular unlike yourself who makes every excuse under the sun to avoid the gym, with a mop of dark hair that's bouncing to his movements. He's barely sweating at a pace that would have you panting.

You don't realise you've been staring until he smiles at you, sticking his tongue out playfully, before going back to running.

You are red faced and almost trip over your feet. You need to focus. You turn your music up and eventually break into a light jog. After thirty minutes your gym buddy wipes down the machine and disappears to another section of the gym, flashing you a smirk and a wave has you watch him go.

His T-shirt has the logo of the gym of its back and for a split second you're wondering if you should book a session, before scolding your horny brain.

Workout. Focus on working out.

Arms

The next time you come to the gym, it's dark out. You'd spent the day in work and although you just wanted to go home and eat dinner, maybe have a glass (or three) of wine, you had made a promise to yourself to go and now you were here.

It was so much more peaceful at night. The blaring music was off and there was hardly anyone about. Suddenly, you loved your idea of coming here. You had little reason to be self-conscious with so few people around.

Today was arms and you were busy trying to hype yourself up using the bench press. Arms were the worst, just after cardio and you dreaded having to do this. Suddenly the thought of three glasses of wine didn't seem so bad.

Adjusting the weights either side of the bar, you slip under it, getting comfortable against the hard leather seat. You reach up and grasp the bar, straightening your arms and pushing the bar out of it's rest. Your arms wobble slightly, your arms bracing against the weight and you hadn't even managed one rep. Perhaps you'd done the weight wrong.

"Whoa doll!" A voice calls out and you strain your neck trying to look for the approaching footsteps. It's the guy from the other day. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing it like that."

"I - Uh-" you grip the handles, unsure if he wants you to let go or not, but you're palms are starting to sweat. "Okay."

He grins down at you, placing large, rough hands over yours and gently lifting the handles back to stationery position.

"Thanks." You sigh, rubbing your sweaty palms on your workout leggings. You glance up at him again, only to find you're eye level with his crotch and go beet red.

Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.

The guy doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Bucky. I'm one of the trainers here."

"Y/N." You try and offer a smile but you're too focused on not thinking that his crotch his just right there.

"I've seen you round here once or twice before, um..." Bucky rakes a hand through his long hair. "You're new right? Have you thought about getting a personal trainer?"

You recalled almost tripping in front of him a week or so ago and flush red. Was it that obvious you weren't a regular? Unhelpful, mean thoughts fluttered through your head and you fought to push them away.

"That obvious, huh?" You smile sheepishly, finally sitting up on the bench.

"Very obvious." Bucky nods, still smiling at you. "You hadn't put the locks on the plates, they could have slipped and injured that pretty face."

Your eyes widen; you hadn't noticed the locks and were grateful Bucky was there to save you from injury... even if he was being a flirt about it.

Even if it made your heart flutter.

"Well, thankfully I have a hero to step in." You tell him playfully. "And about the personal trainer... to be quite honest, I don't think I could afford one right now."

You give him an apologetic shrug but he only smirks in response. "Good thing I'll help you for free. Consider it a free trial."

You eyebrows shoot up. Having someone around to motivate you and show you the ropes would be ideal, and especially if it was someone as handsome as Bucky, it may motivate you to come to the gym more often.

"Only if you're sure." You say cautiously, eyeing him. "I don't want you to lose out on work because you're helping me."

Bucky shrugs. "Hey, helping you is more important. I can just text you what days and times I'll be at the gym - if you're here the same time, then we can do some sets together."

You can't say no to that. His eyes brighten when you agree and exchange numbers before he runs you through how to correctly use the bench press, encouraging you and praising you even though you're red faced and drenched in sweat by the end of your set. But you feel fantastic.

If this was how your sessions with Bucky would be, maybe you'd have to consider saving up for more sessions.

Legs

Whichever the Bucky you saw the night he convinced you to take some sessions with him, didn't exist after that night.

The next few sessions with Bucky he'd been nothing but a hard ass, making your brows furrow with displeasure each time he taunted you. It spurred you to complete reps sure, but that wasn't the point. Quite frankly, you missed him being a little bit nicer and you missed the praise that came with it.

"It's false advertising," You huff mid-squat, shooting Bucky a glare. The more time you'd spent with him, the more confident you'd become at back talking him (even though you'd still complete all your reps). "If I'd have known you were going to be a drill sergeant, I wouldn't have agreed to this."

Bucky chuckles, eyeing your form as he stands with his big arms folded, sipping his water bottle. "And yet you finish every rep like a good little soldier." He teases back.

You scoff in response but your cheeks still grow warm. "Whatever."

After squats it was the leg curl machine. You're on your front, your quads under the foam cushions of the machines trying to push the bar against the curve of your ass but it's too heavy. Bucky is stood, as always, with folded arms watching you intently.

"Bucky, it's too heavy." You huff, letting your legs relax. "I need to put the weight down."

"No, you're doing it wrong." He chuckles. "May I?" He approaches, hands splayed.

You shrug, looking over at him with your chin in your palms. "Be my guest."

You still jump when you feel his strong hands on your thighs, moving them slightly wider. Your heart leaps into your throat and you could swear his fingers linger. His fingers are hot even through your gym wear and you're suddenly bashful when your head is filled with thoughts of another type of exercise you could be doing with Bucky. Again.

His hands trail to your knees slowly, bending them a little more before giving your calves a playful squeeze.

"Try now." He says quietly and you obey. The curl is a lot easier now, and the bar smacks your ass making it wobble.

"Oh, wow, OK." You chuckle bashfully. "Yeah OK you were right."

You catch Bucky smirking triumphantly but his eyes aren't on you; they're shamelessly glued to your legs and ass, watching you perform your reps.

Heat pools to your core and you quickly glance away. You have to be imagining it.

You have to.

Cardio

It had been about two weeks since you last saw Bucky and since you last visited the gym. You'd had a cold and then were so busy at work you couldn't find the time to drop by. You'd dropped Bucky a text to say you'd be out of commission but never explained why - and he'd not asked.

Sighing, you dumped your towel and water bottle next to the treadmill and began to walk. You'd come to the gym tonight for an escape. You hadn't wanted to text Bucky just in case he'd already be asleep but you itched to reach out.

The gym was a ghost town. Only the whirr of your treadmill echoed around the open space. You tried not to think about how you wished you'd bumped into Bucky or remember how he'd looked at you.

Maybe he's like that with all newbies...

That thought made your chest twist uncomfortably. You picked up your earbuds and shoved them in your ears, picking up your pace to a light jog.

So much for easing yourself back into it.

After an hour, you decide to call it quits.

It's 11pm and you just want to be back in your bed, hidden under the covers, away from the world.

You're on your way to the showers when you bump into a familiar face emerging from the men's changing room.

"Y/N?" Bucky

"Hey." You pause as he approaches, taking in the sight of his large biceps under the rolled up sleeves of his tee. "How've you been?

"Good. Long time no see. I thought I lost you."

You can't help yourself from smiling. "Oh no, can't keep me away from this place." You say sarcastically, making Bucky grin over at you.

"Really? Even miss me?" He teases softly.

"I don't miss you being a hard ass, if that's what you mean." You quip and Bucky scoffs. "But I have missed you."

Both of your gazes meet and the tension you'd been feeling over the last few weeks increases a hundred fold.

"So..." Bucky says slowly, barely breathing as he looks at you, not knowing which path to tread. "What are we doing tonight?"

"I've just finished," you say a little disheartened. "I was about to hit the shower."

"Can I join you?"

You both stare at one another. Bucky’s brain was expecting you to say your plan for your next set... not that you were going to shower. Mortified, redness bolts to his cheeks as he attempts to back track.

"I - I mean," he shutters and then coughs awkwardly. Your face is equally red but your eyes glimmer with want. "I thought - Uh- you were going to-"

"Sure," you say thickly.

Bucky's brain short circuits again and you give him that bashful smile that makes his heart stammer.

The women's showers are empty and after two minutes Bucky sneaks in behind you. As soon as the door closes, his strong arms pull you towards him, cupping your face before putting his lips on yours.

"Missed you too," he huffs, pulling his shirt off as you both fumble blindly for a shower booth. Bucky tugs at your gym clothes desperately as he kisses you, urging you to undress.

Your mind swims. He missed you too. He's kissing you senseless and you're sure that given the chance he'd rip your clothes from your body.

You peel away your clothes, pausing only to give Bucky more needy kisses in between layers. Bucky follows suit, discarding his sneakers, shorts and boxers into the pile next to your feet.

You feel a wave of self-consciousness as you take in Bucky's body; all muscle, toned and hard and utter perfection. Your eyes drop to your body; soft, squishable, with silvery zebra stripes running over your hips.

You hear Bucky suck in a short breath and you glance up through your eyelashes, smiling a little nervously. His blue eyes are transfixed on you as he closes the space between you. His fingers twitch as he reaches for you, desperate to feel your skin under his hands, but not knowing where he wants to touch first.

"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands ghosting over your hips, drawing you flush against him. His hands tighten their grip on your hips and you you gasp softly, feeling the hard heat of his cock brush against your thighs. One hand cups your face again, and Bucky’s head dips to kiss you slowly. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth wider, letting Bucky kiss you with far more passion and severance than you'd anticipated.

You're lost in the kiss for what seems like an age; your fingers running through his hair as his hands explore your body, tracing each and every curve, groping at your breasts, hips and ass. You moan into his mouth, mimicking his actions, running your hands over his pecks and down his abs to his cock against your thigh. Bucky pants a curse as you pump him a few times, nipping along his jaw.

"Bucky," You whisper. "The shower."

"Right," he huffs. He pulls the shower door open and gestures for you to step inside first, following closely behind and pressing the on switch.

You gasp when cold water hits your back and Bucky chuckles, arms encircling your waist and moving in to latch onto your neck under the spray of now luke-warm water. Your arms attach themselves around his neck, half-hoisted as you spread your legs to allow Bucky to slot between them. You bite back a loud gasp when Bucky's hand slides between your legs, running along your slit finding your sweet bundle of nerves and drawing quick, tight circles.

"Bucky," you whimper into his neck, your your breathing hitching and hitching like the tightness in your core; rushing upward so fast you feel lightheaded.

"Cum for me doll, be a good girl and cum for me," Bucky sucks at your neck, groping at your tits with his free hand. You lean your head against the shower wall as you feel pussy clenches around nothing. Your fingers grip at Bucky's wet hair, gasping his name as you hang at the precipice of your orgasm. Without warning, Bucky plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them inside you. Your orgasm crashes over you and you cum over his fingers with a wracked half sob.

Bucky's fingers are withdrawn as quickly as they're inserted, leaving you hollow and looking at Bucky pleadingly. He grins at you pecking your lips with a hasty kiss.

"'M sorry, doll. I promise to take my time next time but I need you so bad."

He lifts you with ease, pushing your back against the cool wall, wrapping his arms under your thighs and spreading them open. Wisps of steam rise from behind him as your eyes lock, his cock brushing against your slick folds only once before he slowly lowers you down onto him.

"Oh - oh - oh!" You moan as he breaches inch by inch, each time your walls contract around him, adjusting to his size. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your thighs shake with pleasure and you're utterly at his mercy as he starts to fuck up into you.

"That's it, baby." Bucky praises, littering your face with kisses. "You feel amazing on my cock."

You moan his name and kiss his lips hungrily, pulling yourself closer to him as he brings you to ruin again. Your pussy's grip is like a vice, milking him as you press yourself flush against him glassy eyes meeting his and Bucky can't take it any longer.

Bucky pants curses rutting into you before pulling out entirely and cumming over your stomach and thighs with a short groan. His cock continues to twitch, his cum slowly being washed away by the water save for the white, thick line that connects to your thigh. Bucky slowly lowers you to your feet and you lean against him for support, relaxing in the post-orgasm bliss and the heat of the water.

"I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid on you," he confesses, tilting your head up to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

"So have I," You admit with a soft chuckle. "Kinda wish we could have done that instead of you making me do squats."

"But you're ass looked good." Bucky teases, chuckling when you glare at him.

"So you were checking me out!" You smack at his bicep playfully and that earns you one of his boyish smiles.

"So? Besides, more importantly," His hands grasp your hips tightly, forcing you to be still. "Today's a cheat day and I wanna take you out."

"Take me out? At 11pm? What's even open?" You smile up at him and he only shrugs.

"Okay, fine, twist my arm. Breakfast it is." He kisses you again, this time lingering a moment before smirking deviously at you. "But first let's get you cleaned up."

[penelopepine]

Elephant in the Room Pt. 3

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 1592 Content: angst

Price honestly isn't sure what the best thing to do in this situation is, but he decides to softly knock, almost a tap, against the door once more before calling out your name, "I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but I need to talk to you." 

 It goes quiet on the other side of the door, and for a moment John thinks that you, fairly so, left him standing there alone talking to himself. That is of course before the door is swinging open revealing you once more. Your eyes are bloodshot and cheeks are stained with tears. He also sees what once was confusion on your face is now replaced with anger. 

You take a step towards him with one arm raised. It's obvious that you're going to hit him, and while Price could very easily block it he lets you strike him. 

The sound of flesh connecting rings out through the quiet as you slap him across the face. Your breath is heavy as you growl out, "Did you do it? Did you take him?" 

He takes the hit in stride; you're hardly the strongest person to ever smack him before. Taking in your words though Price does feel a slight spark of anger in his chest at the idea of him doing this purposely. Although he supposes it does look very suspicious that he would show up right after Andrew was taken from your point of view. 

The labs luckily don't make any moves, simply watch the interaction in silence. "I promise you I didn't do this. You can think whatever you want about me, but I wasn't the one who took him. I have an idea who did though." He stares into your eyes, trying to show you that he isn't lying. "If we could all go inside I promise to explain what I can." 

"All?" It was at that moment that you finally seemed to take notice of the three other men behind him. 

John steps to the side letting you have a better view of them, "these are my men; they're here to help."

Looking at you though you don't seem to take in any of his words. You shake your head slightly before turning, and walking back inside; leaving the door open for them to presumably follow you.  

Silently you make your way into the dining room, and take a seat at the table. "Sit, please." Your voice is firm, but clearly exhausted. He sits down on the opposite side of you while Soap and Gaz sit on both sides of him. Ghost on the other hand stands in the corner next to the doorway. “Explain.” 

"My team was sent a video of Andrew." John for once found himself lacking confidence, and unsure of what to say. He wanted to tell you the truth, but in your current state being blunt may only hurt you further right now. "They made demands of me and my team for his safe return. A highly skilled team is looking into the video as we speak, and I will be going to get him back as soon as I can."

"Why did they take him to threaten you? How did they connect him to you?" You ask after a few seconds, "He has never even met you before." Your voice cracks as you try to speak. 

"Nothing is confirmed as of now, but I have an idea of how they found him. We'll keep you updated when new information comes to light. I assume after they found him they thought I had simply hid my family from any paper trail that led to me."

"So everything that's been happening is all because of some misunderstanding!" Your anger shining through with every word, "What now? I'm supposed to just sit here and wait; what's to stop them taking Amelia as well if you don't do as they say?"

“That’s actually why we’re here.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

Ghost is surprisingly the one to speak up, “It means you and the kid are being relocated. Time to start packing the essentials.” 

"Lieutenant!" Price quickly repremans, "What he meant to say is that it is no longer safe for you two to stay here while this situation is still active. We'd like to move you both onto base; a house is already set up for you." 

“You’re serious?,” You asked, voice rising in disbelief, “We have to leave our home?”

“It’s for your safety; I wouldn’t be asking this of you in any other situation.” 

“I just can’t believe that you-.” You begin to say before being cut off by a young feminine voice.

“Mom?” 

Price quickly looks toward the voice, and there standing in the doorway is Amelia. 

She looks quickly around the room, taking in and analyzing all the strangers in her home. Pausing once her focus is on him. He knows Amelia is a smart kid, and that with him in front of her there is no way she doesn't know who he is. It's obvious when it finally clicks in her head. Her shoulder tense and her eyes look sharper. "What's going on?" 

Before she has even finished asking her question you are standing and rushing towards her. You bring Amelia into your arms, and begin to guide her out of the dining room. "Let's go talk in your room." You say before addressing him once more, "I'll be down in a bit. Uh feel free to get yourself something from the kitchen. I'll be down to discuss this more shortly." 

No one says a thing as they watch you make your way around the corner and out of sight. The silence only lasts for a second though before Gaz is speaking up, "Cap, you solid?" 

Price takes a defeated breath, “How much have I messed this whole thing up?”

“I’d say this conversation is actually going quite well. She could have refused to listen to us entirely.” 

Soap is next to speak, “If anything I’d say Lt. is the one to make her hostile against him.” 

“She wasn’t going to like being told she and her daughter have to leave their home. That anger of being told that was directed at me rather than the captain. I’d say I’m the only one who helped him during that conversation.” Ghost states back.

Before Soap can say anything further Price interrupts them, “Enough you two; you’re not about to start arguing right now.” 

The room lulls back into silence before Gaz asks him, “What are we gonna do if she doesn’t agree to come with us?” 

"We'll stay here then until she does," John wasn't sure what else could be said to convince you to come with them, but he would stay here with you both until he did, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." 

Before more can be said you're striding back into the room once again; coming to stand across from him. "You're going to get Andrew back?"

"I won't rest until I do." 

You give him a final nod and say, "We'll go with you; to the base. I'll go start packing I suppose then." With that you're walking out leaving Price stunned with how almost simple that exchange was.

The rest of their time spent there was filled with helping them pack their bags into the cars. Soap and Gaz talked the most to you both at this point; not wanting you two to be scared of them. Hoping to be a friendly face in a new location.

John wanted to try and talk to Amelia, but this situation was already overstimulating and he didn't want to add even more on top of that. 

Finally everything was packed and ready to go. Laswell had texted him as well letting him know that the house was now fully set up for his girls.

His girls. Isn't that a nice thought.

It was at this moment though where John took a pause. You two had gotten into one of the vehicles and as much as he wanted to be with you both he wasn't sure if that would be the best right now. Being away right now might be better. Without much more thought to that he climbs into the other car; Ghost getting into the passenger's seat. He watches as Soap and Gaz climb into the car you're in before pulling out down the road back to base. 

It's a quiet drive; neither one feeling particularly talkative. After so long though Ghost surprisingly does speak up. "You should have got in the car with them." 

"Thank you for your input lieutenant," irritation was clear in his voice.

"You need to talk to them."

"That's ironic coming from you; someone who never wants to talk." 

"I'm not the one who discovered they have a family this morning." 

John tightens his grip on the steering wheel, "I think it's best to not overwhelm them right now." 

Ignoring what he just said, Ghost continues, "Time heals all wounds they say. The sooner you have an honest talk with them the sooner the healing can begin." 

"Time is not always enough; sometimes you have to amputate to heal." He retorts despite knowing that Ghost is only trying to help him. "If that means by the end of this they need to leave me to heal then so be it." 

Ghost gives him a hard stare before fixing his gaze onto the road ahead. The rest of the drive is silent.

Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer

[mochiwrites]

gentle touch of morning

( a small scarian epic au piece <3 reblogs do more than likes! )

It’s funny. 

Over the twelve long years Scar spent fighting, leading his men into battle, the thought that kept him going was his eventual homecoming. Every waking thought was of his husband and son, and Scar’s reason for living, for breathing, was his family. As he sailed rocky waters, faced monsters and gods alike, lost men after men, Scar wished for nothing more than to be home, to awake with his husband sleeping beside him. 

But as he stands in his home, the one he most intimately knows, Scar feels… wrong. Out of place. He’d woken up early, savoring the sight of Grian’s sleeping face (he could never get tired of it), and felt so restless that staying in bed for any longer seemed impossible. So Scar took to walking around his home. 

He and Grian built this place up, together. The memories are some that Scar looks back on fondly. He could never forget it, no matter how much time he spent away from it. Scar only fears that it has forgotten him. 

Scar takes easy steps, walking and reacquainting himself. He notes the pictures, most of them being of his son. He hardly sees Grian in any of them, perhaps one or two, less than a handful. And the ones that Grian is in, his smile doesn’t light up his face. It makes Scar frown. 

He wanders for a bit, traversing each winding hallway with careful movements. It’s as if he fears the house may collapse at any moment, or some attacker may jump from the shadows, perhaps a god will catch him off guard and finish him off. Not even in his home does he feel the full safety he’s supposed to. These walls feel foreign, unfamiliar. Even if he can picture everything clearly in his mind, knows this place like the back of his hand. Scar still feels like a stranger. 

Eventually, he finds himself in the kitchen. He pauses in the doorway, catching sight of another person. 

His son. 

His little Pitta. 

Well, not as little anymore, as a young boy at fourteen. But to Scar it still feels like he’s just an infant that he could cradle in his arms. Another thing time robbed him of. So many missed moments, opportunities, to watch his son grow. And while Scar knows that there are still many years to come, to see, a piece of him mourns the time he lost.

For a moment, Scar keeps quiet. He watches his son, taking in his dark brown hair and hazel colored eyes. He’s the striking image of both Scar and Grian somehow, even if they aren’t related to him. But Scar loves him all the same; would move mountains to give him whatever he needed. He can’t help but wonder what kind of person his son is, what he likes and dislikes. Does he resent Scar for leaving? Does he consider Scar his father, or a stranger who left a loving husband alone for years on end? He doesn’t want to find out. Not now. 

Scar stands there until he can’t anymore, finding hazel eyes landing on him. He watches the way in which Pitta’s eyes light up, turning all shiny and bright when he notices his father. He turns away from the counter, abandoning the slices of bread he had taken out. He smiles, and gods, does his smile look like Grian’s. “Papa!” Pitta greets, the timbre of his voice cheerful and soft. 

“Hey, Pitta,” Scar returns, heart melting each time he’s reminded that he’s finally returned home. He never thought it would happen, that maybe it’d take him longer, or maybe something would strike him down on the way back. But against all odds, fourteen years, and Scar is home. His son stands in front of him. 

“What’re you doing awake? Is dad up too?” Pitta questions, raising a brow at him. 

“Uh…” Scar blanks, unsure of what to say. It’s not like he’s going to tell the truth, Pitta shouldn’t have to worry about him. Scar has already caused him enough pain, there’s no need to cause more now that he’s actually here. “Gria— your dad’s still asleep,” he stammers. The words feel awkward on his tongue, like they shouldn’t be there. This life of domesticity… he doesn’t know how to go about it. It isn’t just some enemy he can cut down. 

The very thought makes him nauseous. 

“Oh!” Pitta blinks at the response. “Well, that’s… good.” He nods to himself awkwardly, and Scar hides a grimace. 

He… really doesn’t know how to interact with his son. 

There’s this dark curdling of doubt in his mind that begins to creep up, settling over him. He’s afraid. Worried that this is one thing he’ll never overcome. It’s a familiar feeling, an old friend, a once enemy turned begrudging shadow. It’s a feeling he experienced in battle, traversing home, taking his castle back from scoundrels that dare to stain it. But there is a new fear that joins it, overwhelming like a tidal wave. 

Does he even know how to be a father? 

Scar feels his breath sharpen just a tad, skipping a beat and hastening. He can feel hands curling around his throat, beginning to press into his skin. He feels it tightening on him, the grip firm. The pressure starts off as something light, until the fingers of Fear dig deeper with each shakingly quiet breath. It gets stronger and stronger, straining his lungs until he can feel his throat being squeezed, choked. 

“Papa?” Pitta’s voice breaks him from the spiraling thoughts, from the overwhelming fear sneaking in. 

The hands around his neck relax, and the terror recedes, sinking back into the depths of his mind momentarily. He allows himself a moment to breathe, a chance to suck in a soft breath and recenter. His vision clears, and he becomes aware of the way his heartbeat pounds in his ears, loud like a drum. 

He manages a smile, “I’m uh, gonna go check and see if our Sleeping Beauty is awake.” Keeping his eyes trained on his son, Scar tries to maintain his light smile. He takes a few small steps back, slipping into a casual mask. He’s gotten quite good at it over the years of putting on a brave face. “Be right back.”

Pitta watches him, brows creasing in concern as he goes. “Oh… okay,” he answers, sounding resigned as Scar retreats. 

Scar turns around, and brings himself back to the beautiful olive tree where his Grian is fast asleep. The sun shines down on him, cutting through the green leaves. The light spills into their bed, painting a halo in the soft yet sandy blond locks of Grian’s hair. He rests in their bed, eyes shut and face relaxed. His body is curled somewhat, the blanket tucked just over his shoulders. 

Staring at him, taking in the near angelic sight, Scar takes a few breaths to calm himself. He walks over to their bed, sitting down on the edge, right beside Grian. He contents himself with just sitting there, watching the rise and fall of Grian’s chest. It feels a little easier to breathe, with the love of his life right here, peaceful. Scar can almost allow himself to pretend he lives in a world where he never went to war, where he never had to leave his family behind. He can almost allow himself to pretend he was the husband and father he should have been. 

Chest aching and overflowing with doubt and regret, Scar reaches out. Tenderly, Scar brushes some of Grian’s hair away from his face. He ever so softly tangles his fingers in the silky strands as he rhythmically cards through his hair. Scar’s expression softens, chest swelling with love for the man before him. He drags the pads of his fingertips along Grian’s head, feeling the soft locks under his touch. 

He can’t imagine what it was like, doing so much alone for so long. Scar has always believed Grian to be strong, the strongest person he knows. But this? Scar doesn’t think anyone could compare, not even the gods. 

Not in the way it matters, at least. 

His thumb idly strokes Grian’s cheekbone, loving and sweet. “I’d be lost without you, my light,” he murmurs. Because it’s true. Scar would’ve given up a long, long time ago if he didn’t have Grian and Pitta to come home to. Grian is his rock, his eye of the storm, his compass. Scar is caught within Grian’s orbit, forever wrapped up in him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for this man. Grian kept their home in one piece. He raised their son. He handled whatever it was that Scar couldn’t in his time away. Grian held out hope for fourteen years that Scar would come back to him. 

Scar owes him everything and more. But most importantly, Scar owes him his love. And by the gods will he offer every last ounce of it, every drop. Scar is a man. No general, and certainly no hero. He is just a man who wants to pour his heart and soul out for his spouse. Scar is just a man in love. 

Beneath his touch, Grian’s face twitches, and he begins to stir. “Mmm… Scar?” he mumbles, still groggy and waking up. 

“Good morning, my love.” Scar smiles at him, brushing away a particular curl of hair before stroking his cheek. “Sleep well?”

“‘ink so, yes. It was warm with you,” Grian answers, leaning into the hand on his cheek. “What’re you awake for?” 

Scar pauses, if only briefly. “Uh, well, y’know. Just admiring my pretty husband while I have the chance,” he answers, which isn’t entirely a lie. 

Grian looks at him with clear suspicion, but doesn’t push. Instead, he sighs quietly as pushes himself to sit up. “You can do that when I’m awake too,” he teases, leaning to press their lips together. Scar is more than happy to sink into it, using the hand on Grian’s cheek to angle his head slightly, deepening it. The kiss is sweet, loving. It’s slow and patient, carrying the patience of fourteen years within it.

When they pull away, Scar rests their foreheads together. “I guess I can, yeah,” he agrees softly. “Mind if I take a few more minutes to admire him?” 

Grian smiles, kissing the corner of his mouth in return. “I suppose.”  Scar simply smiles, and gods is he happy to be home. No amount of fear could ever leave him unhappy to be back with the loves of his life. Never. 

[yu-huuuu]

Second Chance — Itachi Uchiha

[🌸] So, in my writing class I had to practice different points of viewI've done that before but it's fun as fuck haha

characters: itachi uchiha

genre: a type of angst ; fluff in the end (?)

warnings: none ; modern au ; fem! reader ;

reader, is referred as: 'love, sun, refuge...' yes, yes, it is cheesy but girls I don't know your name 🗣️🗣️🗣️ the day one of you tells me your name I will make the character call you that way, haha

...

..

.

The night had fallen with a calm, silent chill, like a blanket that covered everything it touched. Itachi was driving his car, focused on the wheel, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, his love. Eight years had passed since she disappeared from his life, and every day since then had been a quiet battle, an internal struggle to understand how he had let her slip away.

He had made too many mistakes, but the biggest of all was letting her go. He thought he had time, that she would always be there, but life taught him in the cruelest way that time does not forgive anyone.

She, who had been his sun, his love, his refuge in a world that demanded too much. But in his arrogance, in his obsession with work, with keeping his life neat and under control, he had let the only person who truly mattered fade away. And now, there was no way to stop the pain of losing her.

'What if I never find her again?' he thought, tightening his grip on the wheel. 'What if she's gone for good?'

When he saw a familiar figure walking on the sidewalk, he could hardly believe it. It was her. His heart skipped a beat in his chest, and doubt disappeared in an instant. Without thinking, he parked the car sharply, leaping out of the vehicle and rushing toward her, not caring what anyone might think of his reckless behavior.

The cold night bit through his coat as he ran toward her.

"It's you…" he whispered her name breathlessly, and when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise. But what struck him the most was when he saw who was next to her. A child. A young boy, no older than nine, who looked at Itachi with curious eyes that seemed strangely familiar.

Itachi stopped in front of her, his gaze fixed on the child. 'What does this mean?', he thought. The boy looked up at him, unafraid, as though he recognized him from somewhere, which left Itachi even more confused.

"I…" his voice trembled, and she stood silent, unsure of what to say, though her eyes spoke volumes of years of pain and resentment. It was she who broke the silence, her voice soft but firm.

"Why are you here, Itachi?" she asked, her tone distant, as if she were still carrying the scars of what had happened years ago.

He didn’t know where to start. He couldn’t explain in words what he was feeling. There was only one thing he could do. He stepped forward, quickly pulling her into his arms with the urgency of someone who had lost everything and just wanted to get back what little was left.

His love, clearly surprised, tensed in his embrace, but in the end, she didn’t pull away. The hug lasted longer than either of them expected, charged with a mixture of repressed emotion and guilt. When they finally separated, the two of them locked eyes for a long moment, as though trying to find an answer there.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I don’t know what I did. I didn’t know how to value you. I thought I’d lose you if I opened up, if I told you how I felt. I didn’t know how… But I never stopped thinking about you. Every day, every damn day, the only thing I wanted was to be with you." His voice was low, sincere, full of regret.

His love looked at him in silence, her eyes sweet but tired. She couldn’t forget what he had done. She couldn’t forget how he had let her go, how he had discarded her without a second thought. But there was something in his eyes, something in his tone that told her he was no longer the same man he had been back then.

"Do you really feel that way, Itachi?" she asked, her voice almost broken. "Because if you had done this before, I wouldn’t be here… Not with him…" She gestured toward the boy, who was still watching them with curiosity, as if not fully understanding the situation.

Itachi turned his gaze to the child. At that moment, something clicked inside him. The boy’s eyes… it was like looking at his own reflection. The surprise hit him like an electric jolt.

"Is… is he mine?" he asked, though the answer was already dawning on him. The boy smiled shyly, looking at his mother and then at him.

She sighed deeply, as though her whole life had been condensed into this one moment. "Yes. He’s your son, Itachi. When I left… I was pregnant with him. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was saying it for your money. I didn’t want you to think that I was just another woman who wanted you for what you had."

Itachi felt like the world was crashing down on him, but not in the way he expected. He had lost everything: her, him, the chance to be a father in the boy’s life. All because of his lack of courage.

"… I… I’m so sorry."

She looked at him silently, her face a mixture of contained emotion. "I don’t know if I can forgive you, Itachi. But… he needs to know who you are. And you… you have the right to be part of his life, if you truly want to be."

The boy, in the meantime, had been silently watching the scene. Finally, he stepped forward, looking at Itachi, and without thinking too much, he fixed his gaze on him. "Who are you?" he asked in his innocent voice, his tone so pure it cut through the tension in the air. "You look just like me. Are you… my daddy?"

Itachi, for the first time in years, was left speechless. How was he going to explain everything he had lost to a child so small? How could he possibly do it right after all the damage he had caused? But it didn’t matter. What he did know was that he wasn’t going to let him and her go this time.

"I’m… I’m your dad", he finally said, his voice soft, more vulnerable than he had ever sounded.

She watched him in silence, her face a mixture of emotion. "He’s a good boy, Itachi. Just… promise me you won’t let him go, that you won’t leave him like you left me..."

Itachi nodded slowly, understanding that he hadn’t just lost her, but had let go of the chance to be the man she needed. But if there was anything he could do right now, it was to be the father their little one deserved and prove that he was worthy of a second chance to be her partner and her husband in the future.

"I promise", he murmured, his voice firm, though full of vulnerability.

Their little boy, seeing that both of them seemed to reach an understanding, smiled, unaware of the full gravity of the situation. But something inside him told him that from that moment on, his life would change forever and that it would no longer be his mother and him against the world.

...

Extras ;;

"Mom, is this man— my dad going to live with us?" your little son asked innocently, after a while. Clearly confused with the idea of ​​where the man who said to be his father could sleep.

You on the other hand looked at him and, for a moment, smiled tenderly. You bent down to stroke the little boy's head. Though you laughed when you saw his curious look.

"Maybe, little one. Maybe"

[albatmobile]

a conundrum of redheaded proportions pt. 2

the second and final part of this ask!

𓅪 Rated: E | 6.5k includes: misunderstandings, confessions, selectively mute!reader, blow jobs, vaginal sex, deep throating, praise kink, spitroasting, begging, lots of smut y'all ur welcome, voyeurism, jealousy, Justice league AU

𓅪 previous hookup fem!reader x jason todd, eventual fem!reader x roy harper, eventual fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

my Hero OC! Cardinal comes from this series: tumblr [1] [2] || ao3

It seems like fate that not even three days later Batman’s listing you off with Jason and him to lead a low-stakes mission with some of the younger, noob League members.

“Seems like we keep bumping into each other,” Roy teases you lightly before your squad’s debrief. 

You quirk your head questioningly and make to apologize as if you’ve actually bumped into him. 

“No, I just meant the other night,” he trails off unsurely, wondering if it’s too taboo to bring up you seeing him naked and hard in the hallway.

You don’t say anything, obviously, but you hardly even move. 

Shit, he fucked up. Again.

“Er,” Roy clears his throat subconsciously, “anyway, sounds like it should be a pretty easy in-and-out type of deal, right?”

You nod bashfully and give a lame thumbs up. 

Roy watches Jason sign something to you with a cheeky tinge to his movements and you respond with a flurry of sharp motions. None of it being anything Roy comes remotely close to understanding. 

Roy clears his throat and both of you stop with your hands mid-sign, faces nearly touching through the armor of your masks.

It’s Roy’s turn to quirk his head.

“She said she,” Jason starts out in an obvious lie that has you instantly flicking him off. “I didn’t even say anything yet, beautiful.” 

Put aside that Jason and you had just completely left Roy out of the conversation, now Jason’s giving you nicknames?

Fuck this.

“Uh,” Roy barely contains the urge to punch Jason in the stomach, knowing it’d only be in vain with Jason’s insanely padded bulletproof vest.

You huff in aggravation, looking from Jason to Roy.

“Fine, I won’t say anything.”

Okay, now Roy really feels like punching Jason. He’s supposed to be helping Roy hook up with you, not trying to steal you away for himself. 

Roy’s feeling the second-hand heat from the glare you’re undoubtedly shooting Jason’s way. He can’t help but feel like you’re talking about him and he really wants to know why Jason would be refusing to tell him.

You smack at his arm and clearly sign something before motioning your head toward Roy. 

“What’d she say?”

You shake your head in your hand. 

Jason pats Roy on the back. “First off, just because someone’s translating doesn’t mean you talk to her through me, dumbass,” Jason says as he motions to you. Roy gulps as he follows the movement. “Second of all, she said she doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Consider it gotten.

“Yeah, no,” Roy lies, sheepishly tugging his trucker hat lower. “No wrong idea from me, that’s for sure. Nada, baby.” God, can he shut the fuck up? “Sorry,” he says finally.

You shake your head hesitantly and look down at your hands like you’re unsure of something. When your head pops back up, you look to Jason before reaching over and squeezing Roy’s hand like a reassurance that you aren’t mad. 

“Shit babe, you should already know you can squeeze more than that,” Roy spews. He slaps a freckled hand over his mouth as soon as his word vomit catches up to him, but by then, it’s too late.

If you weren’t mad before, you definitely seem upset now.

It’s as if his words electrocute you back to reality, jolting the realization that you’d actually gone ahead with the action.

“Jesus,” Jason shakes his head like he can’t believe either of you, “it’s like watching a goddamned train wreck in slow motion.”

Roy, personally, can’t believe he keeps fucking up so tremendously with you.

It comes as a relief to all three of you when your ride shows up and the mission begins, preventing any further awkward mishaps.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Jason takes control of the ship, sitting in the pilot’s seat before discreetly signing something to you. 

Roy hears you ‘tch’ before you sign something that Jason doesn’t need to translate for him. Without another word, well, sign, you saunter out of the cockpit, throwing one last look over your shoulder at Roy before walking to the back of the vessel.

It’s not fair.

It’s really not when your waist goes in so perfectly and your ass flares out unmistakably. Each sway comes with the cruel reminder he can’t touch it. He can’t touch you.

“God, she fucking hates me,” Roy sighs, slumping over in the jump seat. “God, I keep fucking up. I keep acting like a fucking pervert in front of her. It’s not fucking like me. I don’t know what’s going on,” he groans in frustration. “It’s like I’ve got zero fucking game around her and it’s really starting to piss me off. I can pick up any girl, but her? She’s seriously fucking me up, like, in the head and stuff, dude,” Roy cements his statement by jamming his index finger against his skull psychotically.

Jason clicks on the autopilot and gets up to shut the cockpit door, looking around to make sure no one’s overhearing them as he does so. When he sits back down, he removes Roy’s finger, which still remains against his forehead.

“You look and sound like you’re on fucking crack again, Roy.”

“It was heroin, but thanks. Always a class act to joke about addiction,” he mutters.

Jason can barely contain his eye roll. “Is it so hard to just, I don’t know,” Jason opens his arms dramatically like it should be the most obvious thing in the world to him, “be yourself? Don’t you think maybe, at the very least, that being yourself is a bit better than this weird, lame shit you’re pulling now?” 

Roy sits there, definitely not pouting, as he takes in his best friend’s words.

Jason knows the real him and still lets him hit, so maybe…

“You’re right,” Roy sighs. He slumps back in his seat, exhaling dramatically enough for Jason to roll his eyes again. “If anyone’s gonna help me understand her, it’s you.” As much as he hates to admit it, Jason’s the only one who can offer him any sort of sage advice right now. “What should I do?” he asks.

Roy’s expectant puppy-dog-look has Jason milliseconds away from clicking the eject button and leaving Roy to figure shit out on his own. While he does eye the button, his hands remain on his knees as he takes in his friend’s desperate demeanor.

“Consider this a mitzvah,” Jason says monotonously, finally deciding to divulge Roy. “I can tell you straight up that if all you want to do is fuck her, you’re going to keep fucking up because she’s not like that.”

Well, Roy definitely hadn’t been expecting that.

“All the two of you did is fuck,” Roy points out saltily. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you ditched me to go get your dick sucked.”

“Roy,” Jason rubs at the tension steadily forming between his brows, “what did we just talk about?”

Roy puts up his hands in surrender easily. “I swear, it’s not my fault. It’s like my filter’s completely gone,” he complains.

“You’ve never had one to begin with,” Jason states plainly. 

“Fine,” Roy gives in, motioning for Jason to continue. 

“So, it wasn’t just a one-time thing like I told you. It’s a bit more complicated,” Jason says, leaving Roy’s eyes to bulge. “We’d been talking ever since her split with Kate, but I didn’t want to take advantage of her. She told me she rushed into things with Kate, so she wanted to take things slow.” Jason shrugs. “You know, not like jumping into something right away. Anyway, I understood, so, in the end, I just got to know her.”

Roy shoots a knowing brow but doesn’t take the bait this time. “You seem to be forgetting I’ve also known her for years.”

“Knowing someone and knowing of someone are two different things. You and I both know that, Roy,” Jason points out. “When the time finally came that she was ready, probably like a year later, that’s the day I ditched you.”

“What happened after that?” Roy asks curiously.

“It was a one-time thing in the sense that it was only one day,” Jason says. His attention shifts to the closed cockpit door as if it might somehow magically open. “After that, I never pushed and she never reached out like that again. We both got consumed in missions. When we’d finally get around to catching up, she’d act all shy again with me.”

Jason almost sounds embarrassed about the whole ordeal. He clears his throat, moving to busy himself with the controls, seemingly to signal the conversation was officially over with.

Roy can’t help but think back to how the two of you acted earlier… like you guys were close.

Fuck.

He mentally berates himself for getting in the middle of his friend’s… uh, what exactly are you to Jason? His friend with benefits? 

No. 

Love interest? 

Roy chances a peak at Jason out of the corner of his eyes, but with his Red Hood mask on, it’s impossible to get a read on the stoic man.

This can’t be Jason’s way of telling Roy to back off, right?

“Tell me to back off and I will,” Roy says.

Jason’s helmet remains facing forward. “I could say the same for you.”

Just like that, the topic gets dropped for good and Roy’s no closer to any sort of clarity.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Just like Batman had promised, the mission was get-in, get-out. 

The swamps of Louisiana refused to be left behind as its grime sticks around long after the hostile info swap with Swamp Thing. 

By the time you’re loading the dirty mutant teens back into the ship, Jason’s already calling dibs on the shower. You make sure everyone’s buckled securely into their seats before heading to the cockpit to let Jason know it’s safe for liftoff. 

Your interrogating skills could use some work, Jason signs.

He can’t explicitly see it, but he knows your brow is quirked under your mask. You mean lighting him on fire wasn’t protocol? you sign back.

“The fuck are you two jabbering on about?” 

Roy’s voice visibly startles you and your hands still defensively in front of your chest where they’d been signing. 

“Just rehashing the mission,” Jason says. He shrugs, moving to flip a few switches on the control panel.

“You mean how she lit that oversized weed bush up like a Christmas tree?”

You snort.

He’s not usually like this. Jason looks at you before tilting his head Roy’s way. He’s trying, though, Jason signs.

You wave him off with a huff, You’re delusional.

If you’d just fucking talk to him, you’re expecting his usual response to your concern, so you’re definitely not expecting what he signs next, you’d see you’re both being delusional.

You flip him off for the second time on the mission before slipping back into your seat in the main cabin so Jason can take off.

“Women.” Is the only explanation Roy gets before the ship shoots off into the boggy, yellow sky. 

Once the ship is set to fly on autopilot, Jason makes good on his dibs. His commanding boots stomp down the cabin aisle, shaking the entire aircraft as he does before coming to a halt in front of the bathroom. 

“The Justice League requires an immediate debrief to be written once a mission's complete,” Red Hood's robotic voice warbles menacingly. “You have until we’re finished with this report to wash the mud from your acne-covered faces. Take any longer and your ass will be spending the ride back to base with shampoo in your hair.” His gaze shifts across the rows of seats to solidify his point to the scared prepubescent mutants who’ve yet to move. “Might wanna get a move on if you plan to rinse and repeat.”

His helmet snaps your way, gesturing you to join Roy and him up front.

You shouldn’t scare them like that, you berate him. It’s mean.

“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound it. “Thought I was, at the very least, being gentlemanly considering I just handed you private shower access.” 

He doesn’t bother with signing once you’re both back in the cockpit, though you seem more focused on Roy. Even when Jason removes his helmet, you hardly react. 

Truth be told, your attention is making Roy extremely nervous. 

He’s already been overthinking, well, everything, but it’s worse now. 

He keeps second-guessing every movement he makes. Every single word he says feels wrong no matter how long he languishes over the right thing to say.

Case in point:

“Private showers?” Roy wiggles in his seat, similarly to how Lian so often would in her highchair.

“Yeah,” is all Jason says, with a pointed look your way. “You’re welcome. Now let’s fill out this corporate bullshit so I can get Swamp Thing’s things out of my crevices.”

Roy snorts when you shiver distastefully at Jason’s choice of words.

To his surprise, Jason hands you a notepad and you begin furiously scribbling out your responses. 

Meanwhile, Jason busies himself with recording Roy’s and his recollections of the mission. By the time they’re done recording, you’ve blown through six pages all filled to the brim with information. For some reason, he thinks it’s completely normal to give you a thumbs up because of this and mentally smacks himself when you respond by slamming the book shut before he can see it. 

The debrief goes over smoothly, with Roy only managing to make somewhat of an ass of himself, which he considers a new personal best.

The ‘somewhat’ quickly turns to ‘a complete’ when he decides to say, “You know, for someone who doesn’t talk a lot, you sure have a lot to say.”

Jason makes a hasty ‘abort’ gesture, but it’s too late. 

Roy’s fucked up for the fucking gazillionth time with you.

You don’t even react. Instead, you gesture for your phone from the ship’s safe. Jason hands it over easily enough, though he’s obviously not exactly sure where this is going.

Roy swallows heavily, focusing his attention on the setting sun, which casts a golden sheen on the clouds that pass by. He tries to block out your loud typing, but the fingertips of your costume tap thunderously against your screen until it’s all he hears. 

He thinks you’ll ignore him the rest of the way back until you’re suddenly flipping the screen around his way.

Jason makes a face at Roy as if to say, ‘I told you she’s into you.’

After chatting back and forth, Roy notices you shifting uncomfortably. 

Jason seems to understand immediately. “Roy, show her how to turn on the showers,” Jason insists. Roy gawks at his best friend, not missing the hidden meaning. Roy’s about to protest, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re already up and nodding to the back of the plane. “And, for fuck’s sake,” Jason huffs under his breath to Roy, “don’t make me wait too long.”

On the shower, or…?

Roy shakes his head, placing a delicate hand on your back to guide you into the pretty clean ship bathroom, considering how many people had just used it.

Before he loses the courage, Roy strips and turns to give you a full view of his bobbing, pink-tipped cock. He watches you hesitate to remove your mask as if it’d been a secondhand reaction. Ultimately, you do pull it off, shyly biting your lip as he drinks in your godly beauty as if it’s the first time. 

You slink out of the rest of your costume at a tantalizingly slow pace as you step closer and closer to Roy.

“Think we should turn on the showers to drown this out?” 

You nod with half-lidded eyes as your hands slowly descend down his chest. 

The faucet squeaks as Roy fiddles with a good temperature, but you seem completely preoccupied with studying his cock. Your legs obscenely spread into a squat as you come face-to-face with his bobbing erection.

Roy has to restrain himself from smacking you in the face with his dick and forcing it down your fuckable throat for fear of scaring you off. 

You seem content to stroke him at a gentle pace, with your firm grip exposing and concealing his tip as his foreskin stretches around each stroke. You draw a dribble of precome and curiously flick at it with the tip of your tongue. Roy suddenly surges forward, grabbing a fist full of your hair to cushion your head as he pushes you completely out of the spray and against the shower wall. 

You release a small gasp before you’re back on his cock, this time with more fervor. Your tongue teases along his length, audibly slurping up the mess of spit you’ve left behind as you retreat.

“God, this is so embarrassing,” Roy whimpers, hips sputtering against your swollen lips. You quirk a brow at him as you pull off a move that leaves his knees shaky. “You’re so good to me, baby. There’s no way I’m gonna last, fuck.” You’ve started to deep throat him again and it’s all too much.

You’re too pretty and his one-off session with Jason did nothing to increase his rusty stamina. After a minute, he pulls out of your wet, hot mouth and spurts loads of thick come across your face and expectant tongue.

Absolutely sinful.

Once he’s breathing normally, he helps you stand up and begins babbling the moment your hand slips into his.

“I never thanked you for saving me from Enchantress of all villains, by the way,” he says when he finally comes down from the high. He’s not expecting you to respond. He just wants to get it off his chest.

You short-circuit, staring at him with an owlish gaze that leaves him mesmerized. 

Roy thinks he’ll never get used to looking into your eyes. The stunning mix of colors so unique to you, private to only him and, well, the rest of the redheads in the tower, but it’s something Roy can deal with if it means he gets to hold you close again.

Your mouth quivers and he thinks he’s said something wrong until you speak.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we met,” you say. Roy’s mouth goes dry as a blush steadily creeps across your plump cheeks. He watches as you subconsciously tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “I thought you hated me, though,” you admit. Suddenly, your eyes flick down to where his dick is still twitching in the aftermath and add, “Okay, well. Yeah, I just sucked you off, but still.”

Your voice is sweet, soft and understated; everything Roy never knew he needed and more.

“Cap,” Roy says, leaving your head to tilt comically in confusion. The redhead bursts into laughter at the action. “I mean, you’re lying, babe.”

He hears a quiet gasp from you before you dramatically shake your head no, then seem to remember you’ve already revealed your voice and speak, “You intimidated me.”

Roy laughs again, “Me? Intimidate you? Oh, damn. Babe, please, you’re like the definition of intimidating. I kept thinking I was fucking up and that you’d gotten the wrong impression of me.” When he finally catches his breath, he shakes his head like he finally understands what’s been going on. “I definitely should’a had Jason hook us up earlier.” He pulls you back under the spray, murmuring with your face between his hands, “I’ve wanted you for so long, beautiful. You have no idea.” 

“I,” your ethereal voice cracks slightly from underuse. You clear your throat, “I always mistook your staring as you not liking me. Well, until the other night, then it finally clicked.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing you speak.

“You mean when I got a hard-on at the sight of you alone?”

He watches you swallow with greedy eyes.

“Yes.”

He groans at your answer, feeling his restraint slipping again with each passing moment under your spell. “You gonna keep talking to me when we fuck, or are we gonna need some hand signals?”

You bite at your lower lip, causing Roy’s dick to twitch back to life in response. “I could talk to you forever, Roy,” you respond honestly.

His hips buck helplessly into the small amount of air that lies between the two of you. 

“Say my name again.” 

It’s a command you give in to easily; over and over. 

His gruff, gravelly voice is nothing like you’d ever heard on a mission before and it’s driving you crazy. Your clit twitches on command as his hands tighten into fists. It’s as if to hold himself back from taking you right here and now.

“Roy,” you tease, closing the remaining distance. Your chest squishes against his armor, eyes flicking up at him through your long lashes as if you don’t already have him completely wrapped around your finger. “I need you to fuck me.”

“You…” he trails off in a daze, searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation, “You need me to?”

In response, your eyes slide into slits and he still finds none. Your fingers trickle over his freckled shoulders, twirling around them tantalizingly slow like a promise that this is real. 

“I can’t come on my fingers just by thinking about you anymore,” you breathe, shaking your head lightly. He watches as you bite at your lip again. You’re so fucking sexy, holy shit. “Not since I saw you that one night,” you admit. Roy’s dick twitches eagerly in anticipation of what’s to come. “It’s not enough anymore. I need you, I need the real thing, Roy,” you’re practically moaning as you breathe his name against his lips. “Please, don’t make me keep begging.”

“Oh?” Roy’s fiery eyebrow quirks upward as a dominating confidence settles over him. “I think that’s exactly what you’re going to keep doing, baby.” Another twitch as you gasp from his words alone. “I want you to beg me until you’re about to come,” your mouth parts as lust overcomes you, visibly filling your eyes, “then I want you to beg me to stick my cock back in your wet cunt because you’re such a needy slut for me, aren’t you?” You unwittingly nod, completely enraptured by his raw sexual energy. “I want you to rut against it like the fucking whore I know you are until I finally give in and fuck you. Then and only then, are you allowed to come. Got it, princess?” 

Your eyes are wide, feeling slick already leaking out onto your inner thighs. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh,” he groans, allowing his hands to trickle down from the small of your waist to the dip right above your infamous ass, “you know exactly what you’re doing to me. Don’t you, baby?” Your fingers unclasp his remaining gear, stepping back slightly as it falls to the floor before closing the distance again. He feels your heart ramming up against your ribcage as you press into his now bare chest. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he asks. Roy watches as your wide eyes flicker between his, searching their verdant depths helplessly and chuckles darkly, “You don’t have to say anything, princess. I got you. I’ll take real good care of you, I promise.”

You seem shocked that he understood your nonverbal cue and, to be honest, so is Roy. 

His dick is aching, practically humping your thick thigh with every movement of your swollen lips keeps causing it to bob up and down. Before he can stick it in, however, there’s a wiggle and twist on the bathroom doorknob.

You both panic, looking at each other with wide eyes, when you realize that neither of you had bothered to lock the door.

Roy scrambles to hide you, fully erect cock facing the intruder, only to sag in relief when he sees that it’s just Jason.

“It’s just me,” Jason says. The raven holds his hands up in faux-surrender. He hardly seems startled by your and Roy’s naked state. If anything, he looks pleased? “Was kind of hoping Roy’s shitty stamina would mean you’d be finished by now, but I refuse to sit in my sweat any longer,” he says nonchalantly, however his eyes flick to your bare face with the hints of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Shut up,” you say with no malice behind it. You find yourself blushing and duck in the safety of the junction of Roy’s freckle-spattered neck for solace.

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up briefly at your verbal response before he schools his surprise. “Well, don’t let me interrupt.” 

Jason then begins the motions of sudsing up his body, brow quirking when he feels the continued weight of your eyes on his movements. Roy would be pissed if he weren’t busy staring, too.

Roy’s jaw nearly drops when you place your hands against the shower wall, partially under Jason’s spray, partially under the one that's already on next to it.

You arch into the wall, wiggling your hips teasingly for Roy to come closer.

Jason’s eyes flicker down out of the corner of his eyes, watching as Roy watches him. Whether for support or permission, Jason doesn’t know, but he holds Roy's gaze, nonetheless. 

Roy’s cock bobs enthusiastically in response, wondering if this was all some fucked-up sex dream he was going to wake up from. Roy places gentle yet firm hands on your hips as he draws you backward against his erection. He paces himself, rubbing his tip against your slick entrance as his hands grope your ass in awe.

Jason's hard, spending a little too much time pumping his cock to spread his body wash for Roy not to notice. The way your head is pressed against the tiles keeps your face out of the spray but also means that you can see both Roy and Jason. 

You huff, arching your back even further 

“Talk to me, baby,” Roy practically purrs, grabbing a handful of your ass as his cock continues to rub against your slick folds. It’s enough friction to leave your legs shaking with want.

Your half-lidded eyes sear into Roy’s lower abdomen like a siren’s call and, boy, is Roy ready to go overboard.

“Please, Roy,” you moan as you press your ass against his hard cock. You wriggle backward, hoping to gain more traction, but he continues to taunt you with the promise of his heavy heat. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You need me to wreck that pretty little cunt of yours, baby?”

You nod, biting at the corner of your lip. Jason curses somewhere beside the two of you and it’s all the encouragement Roy needs to put on a show.

He drags his hands up your wet, lithe body as you perch so beautifully for him to take. He fondles your tits as he covers more and more your body with his own until his mouth is directly next to your left ear. On your right, Jason watches, emerald eyes lit with barely retrained want.

Roy smirks at his friend before turning his attention back to you. His deep voice rumbles lowly against the shell of your ear, “Beg.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to the other side to capture his lips with yours. “I need you to fill me up, I’m so wet for you, Roy.” To prove it, you press backward into his erection- as if Roy wasn’t already restraining himself from fucking your cunt full of his come. “My pussy’s aching for you, please,” your sinful voice begs.

Jason’s remained entirely quiet up until this point. “Finger her,” he commands.

Roy barely holds himself back from shivering under Jason’s commanding tone, leaving him no choice but to obey. He teases you, tickling along your labia before briefly teasing your leaking entrance. Your mouth opens and produces a porn-worthy moan, only to remain open and empty when Roy finally reaches your clit.

Jason bites his lip, looking between you and Roy for permission to oblige to your body’s reaction. Roy looks down at you, but your tongue has already lulled out to accept Jason’s girthy cock.

Roy shifts the position so you’re all in between the two shower sprays. You’re bent over, in between the two muscular men, with your face eye-level with Jason’s bobbing cock. Meanwhile, Roy’s soft hands hold your hips steady as he lines himself back up with your entrance.

Once you’re all settled, you waste no time in surging forward to swallow around Jason’s impressive length. Spit trails down the sides of your mouth as you force him deeper down your throat.

Your muffled moans and sighs are all the encouragement Roy needs.

He whines pathetically when the tip of his cock finally breeches your tight entrance, waiting briefly as you become accustomed to his girth.

Your voice is godly, so it’s no wonder that the little pleased noises you make are heavenly. Your breathy moans echo across the small room as Roy finally takes what he’s always wanted. 

The wet heat of your cunt draws the most pathetic noises out of Roy as he slowly fucks his tip into you with a fluid motion of his freckled hips. Each shallow thrust leaves you aching and pressing back into him to beg for more.

“So good for us, aren’t you, baby?” Roy bites his lip impishly as he meets Jason’s half-lucid gaze head-on. Roy’s tip catches deliciously against your twitching cunt, forcing out a wanton moan that vibrates up to the very base of Jason’s cock.  

Without warning, Jason groans as he releases your hair. 

Roy looks questioningly at him before he’s pulled forward by his fiery hair to meet Jason’s eager lips. Roy can tell when you’ve begun sucking again because Jason’s lips become sloppier and more aggressive as they mesh against Roy’s chapped ones. When they break apart for air, Jason’s hand remains firm in Roy’s long, fiery locks. He pants, leaning his forehead against Roy’s while you eagerly work your body in between them.

Jason takes it upon himself to punish your ass cheeks while Roy uses his free hand to tangle in your tresses and tug. All the while, the men remain connected by their violent clashing of spit and teeth above your pliant arch. You feel your inhibitions deliciously slipping with every passing moment.

For once, you’re not being quiet.

If anything, it seems like Jason knew the only way to shut up your sultry whines was with his cock. The thought alone nearly sends Roy over the edge again.

He breaks away from his raven-haired best friend to grab desperately for your swinging tits. His gentle hands squeeze and jiggle them with his thrusts slowing.

“Don’t wanna come again, baby,” he whimpers, flicking your nipples so that you unleash an equally pathetic noise. 

Jason smirks. “Fuck that.”

You get no further warning before Jason’s calloused hand comes down on your ass cheek. His thick cock catches the majority of your pleasured scream, though not completely. Roy rubs the spot, completely hypnotized at the red shape forming across your skin, then quickly pulls away and motions for Jason to repeat the erotic action.

With each hit, your moan reverberates around his cock deliciously. 

A particularly hard smack forces Jason deeper into your pliant throat until he’s forced to grab a fistful of your hair to control the pace.

You feel entirely filled. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the realization as you allow your biggest crushes to use your body in the best way.

“Yeah,” Jason says darkly. At the same time, he grabs your chin, squishing your cheeks in the process as he ruthlessly fucks against your swollen lips. His voice is a dark timbre that shakes every particle of your being. “Take that shit, you fucking slut,” Jason hisses. He wraps his hand around your hair again as he reaches forward to smack your ass.

Your hips stutter as you whimper against the dominant pace of Jason’s hips against your mouth. “Fuck,” you whimper.

His eyes contain an emerald ire, as if he’s just barely restraining himself from pushing Roy aside and fucking you like he knows you like. You can’t help but stutter forward, body spasming in Roy’s secure grasp as your orgasm releases a euphoric, chilling heat all across your body.

Jason removes his dick, moving to support your weight with Roy as they savor every wrecked moan that crackles from your abused throat.

They only allow you to recover for so long before Jason smacks his veiny cock against the side of your mouth for you to open again. “Just like that,” he rumbles your name out lowly. “Good girl.” He nods at Roy who follows his lead and smacks your ass, reveling in how your abused cheeks jiggle salaciously in response.

Jason drags his cock in and out of your swollen, spit-covered lips a few more times before he maneuvers himself into a crouch.

“What are you-" you start, but his gentle fluttering against your clit cuts you off immediately. 

His rough hand instantly stifles your wrecked moan. “I know you can come again,” Jason says, drawing another pathetic weep from you. “That’s right, you’re gonna show Roy what a slut you are, aren’t you?” Your thighs unwittingly snap shut around Jason’s skillful fingers, only to instantly be forced back open with a dark smirk. “There we go.”

His dark green eyes capture yours as he slurps at his slick-covered fingers before shoving them down your throat.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He chuckles darkly, looking between his two-fucked out partners with a sadistic glee only Jason could harbor. He shoves his calloused fingers further down your throat, earning a low moan that vibrates straight down to his cock. You wriggle impatiently and he gets the message. Jason’s free hand snakes teasingly down your panting torso to tickle your pulsating clit while his other hand fucks into your obedient throat.

With his expert fingers, it’s no surprise that you come again.

Your wobbly knees nearly give out to crumble down onto Roy’s dirty, discarded uniform on the floor below you. Luckily, he catches you before you can come back into contact with the disgusting swamp muck. 

Roy forces his dick back inside your overly-sensitive cunt without missing a beat.

“Roy!” you exclaim as the overwhelming yet welcomed stretch starts up again. Your thighs have yet to stop shaking, but if anything, it only makes Roy fuck into you with reckless, primal abandon. 

His freckled hips snap in and out of your doubled-over body at a toe-curling pace while Jay pumps his cock at the desperate display.

Roy doesn’t last much longer after your second orgasm.

The lewd sound of his dick squelching in and out of your slick-filled pussy, coupled with the clenching of your fluttering heat does him in.

What Roy doesn’t expect is for Jason to watch him come so carnally. 

“You good?” Jason’s voice rumbles lowly like a predator closing in on his prey. It draws another spurt of come from his sore dick with a pained groan.

“Fuck, Jay,” he pants as he looks between you and his friend. 

Roy tiredly crumbles to the dirty uniforms below with you still in his arms. You willingly follow, too exhausted to remain standing.

“Don’t think I’d mind seeing the two of you like this again,” Jason says. He stands from his crouch, staring down at the two of you with a domineering demeanor. “Shit. Yes,” he groans when you and Roy move toward his thick cock in transfixed unison. “So fucking good.”

You and Roy share Jason nicely, taking turns licking lewdly up and down his veiny length. It takes a moment to find a rhythm, but once you do, you’re eagerly sucking and exchanging heavy-lidded glances with the redhead beside you.

Roy takes over, flicking and moving his tongue obscenely for your pleasure. When he pulls off, he spits onto Jason’s dick, causing it to bob up and down in arousal. You waste no time in slurping it up, using it as lube to work Jason’s cock deeper down your throat. This, however, only lasts so long before Roy’s grabbing the back of your head to pull you in for a messy, toe-curling kiss.

He stares down at Roy’s noisy slurps, then at your teasing flicks with barely concealed dark want hiding behind his slitted emerald eyes.

He’s rough with both of you, taking a fistful of each of your hair to intermittently draw each of you down onto his cock, one after the other. If no one had heard you getting the best orgasms of your life earlier, they were now definitely hearing Jason’s gasps and curses clear as day.

You feel Roy’s eyes on you the entire time. Normally you’d be anxious with his undivided attention, but right now, it only spurs you to suck in Jason’s length deeper. You moan around his cock, feeling tears trickle out onto your cheeks as you finally manage to reach his hairy base.

Roy’s hands flit across your body, finally landing on your tits as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive neck. You instinctively lean into the touch, eyes rolling to the back of your head, when Jason slowly begins to rock in and out of your throat.

They’re both unable to tear their eyes away from the show you’re putting on, but it does stop Roy’s breathy question, “You like having both of us sucking your dick, Jay?”

“Shut up, Harper,” Jason groans as he halfheartedly glares down at the redhead. 

All at once, your deep-throating ceases as Jason replaces your mouth with Roy’s.

You watch as Roy gets a far more aggressive treatment as if they’ve done this before. Jason’s brows furrow together as his long fingers regain their grip on Roy’s fiery tresses before snapping far down into his throat at a brutal pace.

You gasp at the sight and are even more surprised they both falter to look at you.

“I-" What do you even say? ‘This is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen and I want both of you in me at the same time’?

“Well,” Roy smirks wolfishly after he pulls off of Jason’s red-tipped cock with a lewd ‘pop,' “I’m down.” Jason’s biting down painfully on his lower lip, cock gripped strongly in his fist as he wills himself not to come from your words alone. Seeing this, Roy, of course, doesn’t let him off the hook so easily. “Would you want that, Jay? You want to feel that wet, tight cunt again while your dick rubs against mine?”

You’ve never seen someone come so fast.

Jason’s lips part slightly as he pumps his hot come all across your and Roy’s fucked-out, sweat-glistened bodies. His moan is breathy, slightly broken as the last of his orgasm spurts out across the two of your expectant tongues.

“Fuck,” Jason curses. He stares down at both of your slumped, sticky bodies like he’s trying to figure out if this is actually real.

By the time you’re all done making up for all the lost time, your fingers have pruned and your legs are too wobbly to hold your body. Needless to say, the quick trek back to the cockpit is the worst walk of shame any of you have ever experienced.

A/N: this was a total self indulgent fic- i hope you enjoyed and lmk if you did! I've been in a huge creative rut recently :\

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[rainhidesmytears]

Miraak × Companion! Reader

Fuck the Dragon Priest. Literally.

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{I couldn't resist having a legitimate spicy snippet of our favorite Priest. I tried to proofread it, but hey, were here for affection, not perfection! (May be out of character, but we're not here to ride his personality. Just him.) Sorry if it's bad, let me dream my big girl dreams!}

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In the early days of their long standing relationship, Miraak had been very well aware of his lover and how timid she had been in his presence when faced with intimacy. Be it due to his own intimidating nature or her own inexperience, the Priest held a Godly amount of patience. When he brings her in for a kiss, and she is pulling him closer and closer; he eagerly obliges. Allowing her all of his affections- only to be confused when she pulls away just before his hands roam, embarrassed and red in the face as she makes some silly excuse to escape his arms and the situation that he's only making worse.

Naturally, it is a fresh relationship. He's allowing her all of his patience, letting her get a feel for being around him in a more intimate fashion. He loves the extra kisses where she pulls him in for more, the breathless moans against his lips when his tongue presses against her own- he is eager to give her more when she wants it, as much as she so pleases. Only for the kisses to end all too soon with her suddenly flustered and startled by her own behavior. He finds it adorable, at first believing she is shy because he is her first. He lets all this unintentional teasing slide, as he is very clearly aware it is not meant to frustrate him. His woman is simply eager for him yet unsure how to proceed farther, and easily flustered.

He loves getting her breathless and flustered before she hides away in her room from him. But those hours didn't last. Especially not when she'd tried to actually AVOID him due to her own embarrasment in grabbing hold of him. Oh, no Dearheart. That won't do. He corners her before she can run off, already grabbing hold of her jaw to make her look at him- only to see her eyes dilated and her face burning.

"Where are you heading off to at this hour, Beloved?" His eyes bore into hers, swirling with the arcane powers he had so long ago gained control of. If anything, it makes the crimson hue across her features darken. Much to his delight.

"I-I have to wash my armor- There's still sand in it." He knows she's lying, but with how she's looking at him - though still trying her best not to - he's certain of the delicious reasoning behind her gaze. "You needn't be ashamed of your desires, My Love. I will give you anything you wish, you only have to ask." He's teasing her now, able to feel her pulse race under his fingertips. Even dropping his hand to her throat and carefully pressing down just to hear a whimper leave her lips. "You sound so beautiful under my hands. Would you like me to take you, Beloved?"

He watches her swallow, a very prominent habit she seemed to have before she could conjur up an answer. "But you're busy." It's so quiet from her lips that he can hardly resist kissing her. Pulling her closer by the hand secured around her throat as he tastes her to his hearts content- leaving her breathless and gasping for air when he'd finally pulled back. "I will always have time for you, My Love. I could never be too busy for you. Especially when you need me so~" His free hand is against her, feeling over the curve of her breast before catching her hardened nipple between his fingers and pulling- Oh, the moan he gets from her has his cock ready and waiting, eager to fill his lovely little companion as much as she wishes.

"Y-Yes? Um -" Her embarrassment stops her from grabbing at him, red in the face and incredibly flustered over not entirely knowing what to do with herself because he is very much the first man who has ever shown interest that her conscience wit has recognized. She has no idea what she's begging for or what she wants, but she wants him. As much of him and his attentions as he can comfortably provide, and she has no idea just how much he wants to give her.

"I-I wouldn't be any fun- I don't know what to do, I'm sorry." Her consciousness is trying to reason with her, knowing their age difference and her very clear lack of experience. But where she sees a lack of attraction for someone so unknowing, he finds the most endearing woman in front of him. She brings him gifts of powerful tomes and artifacts from ancient ruins, reads with him, and defends his home of her own free will because they're friends. Not because he's a God, not because she worships him, because they are friends.

Now, their relationship has slowly begun to change. It's more intimate. Soft kisses and embraces that swell his heart when he catches her grinning at him from across the room, even more so when she throws grapes at him just to grab his attention from something frustrating to chase her instead- he loves this woman, and he wants even more so to give his love to her in this way as well. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, My Love. I can show you everything. Whenever you're ready for my attention, I will gladly give it to you. Would you like that?" His words are soft, and his lips are warm against hers when he kisses her again, unable to resist with the way she looks at him.

"Please? I want you. I- Oh- that was rude." His laughter has her face only turning darker, pulling her closer by her throat only to drop his hands and then lift her up by her thighs, laughing brighter as his woman squeals from his actions- oh he loves this. The joy she brings to his very soul is indescribable. The chance at meeting someone who desires him and his mind and not the power or riches he could most certainly provide. Such a feat is damn near unattainable, and he covets this newfound love of his greedily. As he should.

Their first time lasts near ages. Slow in the beginningas he allows all of his patience for this woman he knows has no experience in such acts. He's easing her into being comfortable in her own skin and getting her used to seeing him naked. It was such a struggle holding back his laughter when she had covered her face when he'd began undressing, not even halfway bare as his outer robes were laying across the nightstand, watching his easily flustered woman in amusement. "Are you not enjoying the view, Beloved?"

He's teasing her, and the groan from her lips sounds far sweeter than he had thought it would. "You are a chisled work of art, and I have never seen you even remotely undressed, save for you mask and gloves." She's grumbling at him, complimenting him and making it very clear she is absolutely enjoying the sight of him as she pouts at his laughter- only for her eyes to widen at the sight of a very naked Priest.

"Oh my Stars-"

"Basking in the glory of a God, Pet?"

He teases her, flustering her and turning her face red before he's letting her touch and get a feel for him. For them. She has free reign across his skin, and he melts into her careful touches when it's clear she's admiring him. Scars, old burns from a spell gone wrong- she's leaving kisses across where she can reach, and he is doing the same. It's so soft and patient in comparison to the past lovers he's had, mainly because those lovers had at least some semblance of sexual knowledge, where she didn't. This is a very new and very delicate experience for her, and he intends to make it a good one.

He yearns for the chance at showing her how very wonderful such intimacy can be with the right partner. His touches and kisses are slow and mapped out, taking every opportunity to trace his tongue over all the places he's been yearning for - making her squirm beneath him. He knows how aroused she is and he knows he's making it worse, but he's making certain that she is ready for him long before she's allowed to have his cock. Miraak is very well aware of just how big of a man he is and how small his woman is by stature. Stars when he gets his hands on her she is so responsive. He loves how she arches into his touch, mewling and quietly begging for more- he can't resist kissing her, letting her pull him in for more and more and more because it's so addicting- especially when she uses her tongue against him.

It's such a lovely little surprise that he'd let her fuck his throat with the appendage if only she knew how. "May I touch you, Dearheart? Please?" His lips are against her. Kissing her. Biting and sucking marks into her skin that has her moaning beneath him, her breasts decorated in softer bites and her shoulders bruised just a bit more- and she teases him as he basks in his own joy of tasting her. "You're already touching me, Miraak~ Isn't it a little late to be asking?" She's joking, running her fingers through his hair only for him to bite down on her inner thigh as punishment for her response - dragging a very excited whine of his name out of her.

"I want to hear from you that I am allowed to touch you more intimately, Beloved. Either I have your words that you want this, or I will not touch you." He's already reaching up to cradle her face, pulling her for soft kisses on her lips as he explains. "You're not in trouble, Dearheart. I want to make sure you're comfortable with me, and what we're doing before I go farther. There is no shame in wanting to stop. The moment you request that I stop, I will. May you believe that I will not harm in any way that is not enjoyable."

He gives her time to absorb his words, understanding that she needs a moment or two in order to think of what she means to say before she's already leaning in to kiss him again, and he lets her. "I like it when you touch me. It sets my skin on fire and I want you to touch me more, i-if that's alright with you. Please?" She's flustered, eager for more of him and finding the words to consent like he wants. Not just because he wants it, but because she wants more of him too.

"I'd love nothing more than to get my mouth on you, Beloved. Let me know if it's too much, and we can stop. It's alright to be nervous." He's encouraging her, taking the majority of his actions slow enough for her to get a feel for what it is they are doing together so she isn't startled, and by the Gods she is soaking wet and he wants so badly to taste her; and when finally given permission that's exactly what he does. His companion doesn't have a chance to be embarrassed about her cunt or how aroused she is before his lips have already made contact with the sensitive flesh. The God has his arms around her thighs, spreading them so he can be between them, hiking her legs over his shoulders before she can comprehend what he's doing before he's already tasting her. His tongue is flat against her, making her gasp and shiver as he licks up the juices that have dripped down her thighs and her cunt, already pressing his face into her as much as he can to taste this beautiful woman in his bed- devouring her to his hearts content.

She has no leverage to keep herself up, having dropped to the bed only to arch up at the feeling of his tongue sinking into her, and the bastard is using magic to mimick her own elongated apendage so he can reach as deeply as he wants. She's already cuming on his tongue before she knows what that feeling is and it's so heavenly that her moans are breathless and broken, overwhelmed in such a good way that she doesn't want him to stop and he doesn't. He lets her pull at his hair, moaning against her at how good it feels, and this poor woman only wants more, and he intends to give it. But he wants her soaking wet before he'll even consider using his fingers. He gets her to cum twice more before pulling his tongue out of her. Though he does it slowly. Making her watch, and he has half a mind to fuck it back into her when he can feel her clenching at the sight. She's so pretty like this. Thighs trembling, her blush coating her throat and all the way down to her breasts, only accentuating all of his marks across her delicate skin. Oh, the sight is to die for.

"Do you want more, Pet?"

"Y-Yes, Sir! Please - Yes!"

He's already grasped her chin in his hand, not liking how that word sounds on her lips when she speaks to him. It is far too formal for his liking. He loves how she disregards his title, and views him as someone she cherishes- though now would be such a lovely time for her to beg him with such regard. "You may refer to me as your Master. It should give you some semblance of respect for your God~" At first it turns her pink because he's referring to himself as hers, and then it has her grinning at him in a way that has hold of his heart.

"You just want to hear me beg, don't you?" She's teasing him. That much he knows- but for some reason it just sounds so delicious on her lips. Especially when she pulls him closer to kiss him. Tasting herself on his tongue and licking his lips and chin clean of her own arousal that had gotten everywhere due to his own excitement in finally having the chance to bury his head between her legs. The growing confidence she portrays makes his cock twitch in excitement.

"Please, Master, I want more. I want to feel you, to touch and kiss you-" She only adds to her own begging when she pulls him in for needy kisses, able to hear him groan against her lips at how eager she is for him and his touch- oh she makes him want more than he thought was already possible. "I'll be good, I promise~" Her playful words cause him to pinch her cheek softly, making her whine and pout at him through her lashes.

"You're lying to me."

"But you love it when I lie to you~" She kisses him again, and he gives in, loving this playful woman and how eager she is for him and his touches. He wants her drooling. Unable to think enough to tease him- but it sounds so good that he can't bring himself to even imagine a gag. Though his hand is already against her as she kisses him, playing with her clit and pinching at that little bundle of nerves to get her attention- only to trace his fingers over the opening of where he'd just had such a lovely meal. Her cunt has a vice grip on a single digit of his and he can't help but love how it feels, sinking his finger into her and pulling it back out just to repeat as much as he likes, getting a rise out of her from the feeling.

"Oh- Stars~" Those breathless moans from this new sensation have him in a choke hold, loving the view of her squirming, trying to get a little bit more friction from him, only to be held down by her hips.

"Be still, Pet. We need to losen this beautiful cunt of yours if you're going to have any chance of taking my cock tonight." The way she clenches down on that finger at his words makes him grin, teasing her as he thumbs the bundle of nerves just a bit more before attempting to add a second finger. She only tightens around him as he's pressed two fingers inside of her, able to feel her tense and shudder beneath him. As powerful as he may be, he is equally understanding and patient with her. Pressing gentle kisses to her face and her temple, keeping his hand still to allow her time to adjust to this very new feeling. His hands are rough and calloused from years of mastering the arcane arts, and the moment he's moved them inside of her he feels a very distinct sort of popping, and she's already jolted beneath him. At first, he worries. Naturally, as this is definitely her first time, and he isn't sure if the motion of breaking past her hymen has startled her.

She has tears in the corners of her eyes from the initial sting of pain, having jolted due to surprise from the feeling of being stretched open, but the moment he slowly starts curling his fingers upwards, she had already cum again on his fingers, holding his arm in place so he wouldn't pull away too soon- as he was worried he'd hurt her and wanted to check in.

"Oh- no, please! Don't stop!" Her begging pauses his attempt at removing his hand, testing the waters by moving his fingers again, only for her to moan and drop her head back onto the pillows.

"How do you feel, Pet? Answer me, or I remove my fingers." Her whine at his words have him stretching her again, admiring the eager roll of her hips for more before being held down again.

"It feels good!" She chokes back a moan when his fingers move again, a little show of blood trickling down his hand and onto the sheets demanding he make sure she isn't lying to please him.

"Describe it to me. Tell me what it feels like." If she likes pain, he's more than happy to keep going, but if not, he'll stop completely.

"It burns, and the sting is sharp, but Stars, please - Give me more~ Please, Master~" He'd concluded that she was truly enjoying herself, and he was certainly enjoying it too, moving his fingers deeper and curling them upwards had her seeing stars before she'd cum again, mewling against his lips when he'd give in and kiss her again, letting her wrap her arms around him to pull him down for more as he massaged her tight walls.

When he'd gotten three fingers stuffed into her, it was increasingly harder for her to stay still, and it set his pride on fire. He loved holding her down and flexing those digits in her tight cunt, basking in her moans and whines and attempts to move her hips for more.

"You take me so well, Pet. Absolutely breathtaking." He praises her, trailing bites across her breasts and down her stomach only to trail back up to her lips before finally deeming her ready enough to possibly take his cock hours long after they'd started together. +

Naturally, he uses a generous amount of lube on his cock and the shock on her face at how big he actually was had him grinning, especially when he gets to watch her clench around nothing at just the sight of him. "Is that even going to fit inside of me? How the fuck did you hide that under your robes?" He's kissing her again, amused by her words as it only further stroked his ego.

"I'll help you, Beloved. You can take me. Remember, we can always stop if its too much, I won't be upset." His gentle reminders are met with soft and appreciative kisses before he has her pick what position she would prefer for their first time together.

"Do you want to be in my lap as I take you? Or would you like to start where we are and see where the night takes us?" Rubbing the tip of his cock against her wasn't helping her think, especially not so far into a all of his teasing and experienced fingering. Though the Priest found an other worldly delight in watching her try and focus enough to decide. Though when he'd press in, only to pull back out had her whining at him, pouting up at his grin- only for her to startle the God when she'd pounced on him, straddling his lap and moving her soaked cunt against his cock. His nails digging into her ass as she teased him, only met by low moans of his name before she'd finally had a chance to answer.

"Please don't tease me. It's not fair." She whined at him, only to receive hotter kisses that bruised her lips and left her breathless as she leaned forward for more when he'd pulled back to speak.

"Shall I take you in my lap, Pet? Sink as deeply into your needy little cunt as I can?" Met with eager agreement and begging had finally earned her a prize when he'd helped to hold her up, sitting back against the headboard so he'd have leverage as she began lowering herself onto his cock. The both of their heads had dropped at such a feeling. His against the wall behind him and hers against his shoulder. Her cunt is squeezing the life out of his poor cock as he stretches this woman so much more than his fingers had the chance to do so. The feeling of being so full with such a delightful sting has her gasping. The twinge of pain bordering so far into pleasure that it became intoxicating, urging her to drop herself a little too fast for his liking.

The words of scolding die in his throat as her orgasm rips through her when he's nestled into her to the hilt that neither of them can move in that moment. Her thighs tremble as an orgasm overwhelms her senses at being so very full of him in such a quick movement and he is doing his damnedest not to pour his seed into her so soon. But, oh, how he wants to. The tears in her eyes from the stinge of the stretch have him only partially worried, as her thighs are still shaking and her cunt is spazzaming around him. He would understand if she were overwhelmed in that moment. All of these new feelings coming one after the other paired with how very deeply he is sated within her and how very full she feels with him there. He kisses away her tears, praising her and telling her how beautiful she is like this, how well she's taking him and it's not helping his control when each praise goes straight to her cunt and it's squeezing him again after she had only just been able to catch her breath- oh he learns so very soon how much she truly likes it when he praises her, and he loves it.

The praise is endless now, paired with him deeming her ready enough to move on his cock- and it is pure ecstasy when she finally has his permission to move. Riding his cock with reckless abandon has him twitching inside of her, unable to keep his hands to himself as he only pulls her closer and closer, letting her fuck herself on his cock to see how she likes it before he even thinks of taking over and the view is absolutely magnificent. Her horns on display for him to grab and her wings he can caress all he likes? Oh she cums so many times on his cock that she's got his poor heart in a vice grip at this rate.

No sign of exhausting or pause has him eager to take control, only truly railing into her when she finally wins him over with her begging and pleading, wanting more of him and he eagerly provides all that she asks. The night is long, and the large bed leaves them endless opportunities as he fucks himself into his beloved companion. Stuffing her completely full and dragging all but the tip of his cock from her twitching hole, only to slowly push back in until he meets the little nudge of her cervix, drawing mewls and whines from the beautifully ravished woman beneath him.

"Tell me where you want me to spend, Beloved. Shall I fill you to the brim with my seed, or shall I paint your glistening cunt white? You must tell me, for my control is slipping." His words are slow against her ear, a groan pulled from his throat as he restrains himself enough to ask, basking in her soaking warmth as she quickly locks her ankles behind him. The both of them crying out when she pulls him forward and the action causes a rather rough nudging against the deepest parts of her.

"Fuck! In-Inside- Inside me- Please~" Her hands are in his hair. Tangled in the strands as his thrusts become rougher, fucking his aching cock into her greedily as her legs prevent him from pulling far enough out to tease her much more. Her begging is rewarded with kisses, hot and bruising as his movements become ragged and sloppy. Dragging their bodies as close as physically possible as he buries the head of his cock completely against her cervix when he cums. The force of his thrust and the orgasm he eagerly pours into her wanting cunt has her screaming his name when she arches into him, his face in her breasts as her warmth swallows him in- milking him for his worth.

♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡

<pleaseee let me know if anyone likes this I'm dyinggg>

[reidsaurora]

"Hot Chocolate, White Lies" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: Aaron might be a pain in the ass to shop for, but at least he's cute.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader (Reader does wear makeup)

Word Count: 1,444

Content Warning: mild swearing, mentions of food, i think that's it!

Extra Notes: i took creative liberties with the things featured in this fic, sue me (also sorry for the sh!tty summary, it will happen again) // icon in collage is by @catsadams

Beta Read By: @theghouligan 🫶🏻

Originally Written: 10/12/2023 through 10/19/2023

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Halloweek masterlist can be found here!

There were many things you were unsure of, but one thing you did know was that autumn was your absolute favorite time of the whole year.

The mornings when you were both home from cases usually started slow and sweet. You'd wake up ten minutes past your alarm, Aaron's chapped lips the only thing strong enough to awaken you from your slumber. You'd press to know why he allowed you to be late, but he'd just insist, "We have nowhere important to be. Besides, you just looked so peaceful. How could I ever wake you?"

When you finally rolled out of bed, his hands would be on your waist, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck as the two of you made your way into the kitchen. You'd start on a pan of French toast while Aaron put on the coffee, stealing quick kisses as the two of you glided around the space, each of you already anticipating the other's every move.

Then, you'd eat together in the breakfast nook, the sunlight glowing all around him, somehow making his five-o'clock shadow and bedhead seem ethereal. The conversation would flow from topic to topic as easily as water flowed downstream. But this particular day, there was one topic Aaron seemed to be actively avoiding.

It was a week from his birthday, and while he knew better than to tell you not to get him anything, he would still put his foot down about making a big deal out of the situation. If one person found out, then they'd all find out, and truly, his only wish every year was to spend his birthday with the person he loved most, not the entirety of the FBI. He'd much rather have take-out and a cheap bottle of wine in the comfort of his own home than hors d'oeuvres and expensive champagne with people he hardly knew.

Still, you'd tried all morning to get him to crack and tell you what he wanted for his birthday. But his response was always the same: "You're the only thing I need, my love."

One somewhat pointless conversation and a plate of French toast later, the two of you were headed back to the bedroom to get ready for the day ahead. He'd head into the bathroom to shave, and you'd steal glances of him as you got dressed in the bedroom. Then he'd do the same, eyeing you with absolute love and adoration as you applied layers of makeup he still insisted you didn't need, even after years of marriage.

Soon enough, you'd arrive at your favorite little bookstore and cafe. Any onlooker would immediately be able to tell just how in love Aaron was with you, sporting a matching sweater you'd clearly picked out and his hand only parting from yours to open the door, which he insisted on doing any time you went anywhere together.

"Alright, I'm setting you free," he joked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Don't cause too much chaos in the romance aisle, okay?"

You giggled, leaning up to kiss him on the lips for once. "I'll only squeal if they have anything signed by my favorite author."

And with that, he was headed off to the cafe side of the building, going to collect a cup of your favorite hot chocolate. Most people preferred to drink coffee while they shopped, but to you, nothing beat curling the sleeves of your sweater around your hands and sipping a cup of hot chocolate. Even after years of coming to this place, you still hadn't figured out how they made it taste infinitely better than other hot chocolate you'd ever had.

Once you were absolutely sure Aaron was in line at the cafe, you were bee-lining in the opposite direction of the romance aisle and over to the literary fiction section.

While you'd originally told Aaron you wanted to go to the bookstore under the guise of wanting to see if they had a copy of a new release you'd been excited about, you secretly had other plans. If he wasn't going to tell you what he wanted, you'd take matters into your own hands.

You peered around one of the shelves to make sure he wasn't looking, letting out a quick sigh of relief as you spotted him reading something on his phone.

You had all of about three minutes to find a couple books that he hadn't read, which was no small feat. Nearly every second of Aaron's free time was spent devouring a novel, and while you loved that he had found a hobby he truly enjoyed, it also made it devastatingly hard to buy him new books.

In roughly two and a half minutes, you'd managed to find three books that you were sure Aaron would love. Then, you were all but sprinting over to the romance section and grabbing the first book you saw, reading the back cover nonchalantly as your husband walked up.

You were reading the back of some novel about two rival scientists falling in love when Aaron got back with two cups of hot chocolate and a sugar cookie the size of your face. "Your drink, my dear," he said, holding out one of the cups.

You took the cup from him, inhaling that first anticipated sip of the warm liquid. "Thank you."

"You found anything interesting yet?" he asked, a hand meeting the small of your back.

You shook your head, placing the scientist romance novel back on the shelf and picking up another book with a beautiful pink cover. "Nothing much. No signed copies so you'll be glad to know I won't be disturbing the other readers with my squeals."

He chuckled, a deep sound that made butterflies go off in your stomach every time you heard it. "Thank you, I'm sure it's appreciated," he kidded. He took the tote from your shoulder, immediately registering the weight of the bag. "Nothing much?" he inquired.

Before he could open the bag to look inside, you were swatting his hand and snatching it away. "It's… an encyclopedia I promised Reid I'd get for him if I saw it."

Aaron cocked an eyebrow at you. "Since when do you go shopping for Reid?" he inquired, a chuckle on the tip of his tongue.

You wracked your brain for some kind of response that sounded at least halfway truthful. "He hasn't been able to find it anywhere and he knew we liked coming here, so he asked me to check next time we came."

That skeptical brow of his only raised itself higher. "Well, there's one flaw with your story and that's that I'm a profiler and I know when you're lying to me."

Before you could form a rebuttal, he was taking the bag out of your hands again. "Aaron, don't-" you barely got out the words before he was holding up the copy of The Midnight Library.

His brows furrowed as he held up the book, examining the cover for a moment. "This isn't a romance."

You let out an exasperated breath at his examination. "That's kind of the point, Aaron."

"Well, I thought we came to find a copy of that new book you've been looking for."

You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a small huff of amusement. "I suppose I should come clean. I did lie to you."

Aaron's mouth flew open in fake shock. "No! I never would've guessed."

"Not about that," you grumbled, slapping his arm. "About why we're here in the first place. I wanted to find you something for your birthday."

His features wrinkled in embarrassment, a small sigh escaping between his lips. "Well, now I look like an ass."

You were inclined to agree, he did kind of look like an ass. But he was a cute ass and you wouldn't want him any other way. Hands flying up to his cheeks, you pulled him down for a long and soft kiss. His wrinkles of slight mortification melted away as he settled into your touch, the scents of hot chocolate and new books taking over each of your senses.

Aaron was the first to pull away, moving his kiss from your lips to your forehead, before meeting you with an expression filled with admiration. "You-"

"-'Didn't have to get me anything.' I know," you finished for him. "But these ones seem really interesting and I thought that maybe we could read them together."

His mouth curved upward into that smile of his that was so sweet, so loving, so… Aaron. "If I'm going to share a book, I'm always going to hope it's with you."

-> taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @namorswhore @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @bbbbbbbbbbbbbbl @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahargrove @cwritesforfun @maelartasch @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing @captainchris-pike

[tkaulitzlvr]

loved your new fic :) was wondering if you could possibly make a part two of it that would just be the morning after with lots of fluff n cute stuff as they just got back together?

obviously it’s absolutely your choice & there is no rush at all <3

SORRY (2) - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: for the first time in over a month, you wake up beside tom. at first, you are unsure of what to make of the situation, tom quick to reassure you.

content: fluff

a/n: thanku so much!! part 2 to this - i feel like i hardly write fluff and all my page is smut (it gets a little boring sometimes) so decided to write this req to compensate for the lack of fluff i post. this is something a little short, but hope u enjoy!! 💞

warmth. the first thing i am able to register when my body begins to stir, eyes fluttering open and shut on the verge of consciousness is the heat that envelops my skin. the feeling is foreign, almost new to me, though somewhere within the haze i find the familiarity of it all, gaze slowly falling downward to find a pair of arms wrapped securely around my waist, the person who they belong to also just as close, soft breathing tickling the skin of my neck as his head rests beside it. i probably would pay little attention to the increase in temperature as i wake, if i hadn’t done so alone the past month, usually greeted with the harsh realisation that tom wasn’t mine anymore - until now.

but i don’t feel secure, nor happy, that i wake up beside the man that i love, as i had thought i would if the day ever came that i managed to get him back. instead, i feel strangely out of place, thousands of questions circling my mind as this situation leaves me more confused than ever. sure, i remember the night we shared, the passion, the raw emotion - it is one that cannot be mistaken for anything but truth, because if tom was lying about what he had told me, then god, he’s a pretty fucking good actor. hell, even i couldn’t brush his words aside ‘they weren’t you’. how could i? he had told me exactly what i wanted to hear, and yet i lay here, not as ecstatic as i should be, my heart failing to burst with joy at the sudden confession that he still loves me. he knows that he leads me blindly, his words sweet as honey, meaningful as gospel, igniting the dull flame within me whether they were true or not - i am far too devoted to consider their credibility.

tom however, clearly isn’t overthinking half as much as i am. his mouth agape, obnoxiously loud snores escaping from it, his body tangled within the sheets and my own - he probably wouldn’t notice if a burglary happened right next to him. hesitant to wake him, the idea of facing the awkwardness that will arise from whatever happened last night makes my stomach churn with utter dread. so i lay silently, eyes fixed to the ceiling, looking for any distraction from my wondering mind, though the quiet doesn’t help, fuelling the ‘what if’s’ that continue to give me nothing but a massive headache, eager for the remedy that is his consolation.

the secure grip around my waist begins to tighten, too much for it to be accidental. silently praying that he is just stirring in his sleep, my body stays still, head betraying my mind as it slowly turns to face him, only to be met with his own eyes fluttering open, a low groan leaving his lips as he stretches out.

“morning leibe.” he states so nonchalantly it is almost like we had never broken up, his lips nearing my own as they attempt to pull me into a kiss. i turn my head, slightly hesitant to melt into his embrace, unsure of what we are right now, the questions in my mind far too important to be ignored, even when his lips are so close to mine, soft and pink, almost gravitating me toward them against my will.

his eyebrows furrow at my rejection, arms slowly moving away from my waist, instead resting a gentle hand against my hip as he speaks. “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

my heart breaks, tugging at the strings at his confusion. honestly, he hadn’t done anything wrong - not right now anyway. i don’t know what we are, and that thought scares me, more than he realises at first glance. i have always been this way, liking answers to be clear, on paper, with zero doubt of them being interpreted differently. so this situation is a nightmare come true, tom’s intentions, though seemingly clear last night, still a hazy blur amidst the thoughts piling in my mind. and i hate leaving him in the dark, though he is unconsciously doing the same to me right now. but i know that it isn’t fair to shut him out as i always do, deciding to speaking my feelings, whether things end well or not.

“i just- i don’t know what we are. did you want me for a quick fuck last night, or-”

“you really think i want you for a quick fuck?” he asks, voice low and soft, lacking any anger within it as i had expected. instead, he remains calm, hands tentatively reaching upward to cup my cheeks, my entire face resting within his heavy palms. his thumb slowly strokes the skin next to my lips, face inches away from my own as the soft breaths escaping his mouth fan against my cheeks.

my silence speaks volumes - letting him know how confusing this whole thing is to me, though it seems the lack of clarity is clearly one sided: tom’s brows furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed as his mouth parts, little sound escaping from it. but my silence, whilst surprising to him, is equally precious, because it buys him time to continue. his hold on me strong, yet his words slow and soft as they pour from his lips turn out to be the most beautiful - and somehow reassuring, contrast imaginable, especially when in this moment, i desperately clutch onto any comfort that he shows. and, luckily for me, he intends to remind me that my worries are mere delusions - his confession music to my ears.

“schatz…c’mon, you know you’re more than that to me.” he seems at a loss for words, tongue swiping nervously across his bottom lip between words, knocking the small metal ring that adorns it to the side, playing with it in an irregular motion, his eyes just as skittish.

silence indulges the room as he awaits my response, his eyes scanning my expression almost desperately, the same way i had looked at him moments ago, the roles reversing far quicker than i had expected. he is waiting on me, seeking my reassurance, his statement coming out as more of a question, though it seems directed to the both of us. he is asking himself the same thing - soon realising that he is equally as keen to receive consolation as i am.

“i don’t know it’s just- weird, i guess? i’m not over it. i tried to act like i was, but look where i ended up, at some shitty club with a random guy at my hip.” each words that falls from my lips becomes harder to say, soon realising that this is the first time i have spoken about how i truly feel after we parted. feelings change, people move on and time continues to run its course, but none of that had happened, my soul just as empty as it had been the second he left. my expression mirrors my emotions, tears soon building around the brim of my eyes, threatening to spill from them with another word. but i take that chance, knowing that i am in far too deep to keep anything left unsaid - especially when he is here, and i have him listening, really taking in my words, instead of brushing them off as he did before. “and i can’t go through having my heart broken again. once was enough, don’t break my heart again, please.”

“baby…” he trails off, his arms wrapping tightly around my trembling frame, body following as it presses against mine, soothing me in the way i wanted, no, needed. truthfully, my confession couldn’t be taken as a complete surprise. i know it, and tom knows it too, his brief silence proving that he wants to try, the small circles trailed along my back temporarily taking away the pain, giving him the time to think about what he is saying, to properly consider his choice of words, rather than spewing out anything that will console me.

a minute passes, heavy breaths escaping from my lips, masked within the small sobs soon mixing into the soft air until they eventually turn into silence, my eyes soon drying, thin red lines stretched across the sea of white surrounding my irises, in place of the saltiness of my tears. it is at that moment when his face appears from my shoulder where it had once been resting, lips nearing my cheeks as they slowly, oh so slowly, begin kissing away the remnants of dried tears, gently making any evidence of my sorrow disappear, replacing them with the tender consolation of his company, though now it is beyond that - his kisses show far more than the reminder that he is here with me, they show that his love is there too, far stronger than his presence alone.

“i love you. i love you so much. never doubt that for a second. when you think you’ve lost everything, you’ll never lose my love for you. i could live a thousand lifetimes, and it would still be you.” it is clear that he means it this time, but if his words themselves hadn’t made that obvious, then the kiss that he places onto my lips afterward reaffirms their truth, compelling me to kiss back as soon as i am able to process the feeling of his lips, soft and pillowy, on my own.

this is love. not two people pretending to show affection, blinded by lust over true passion. because before tom, i realise that i had no knowledge of the word. the way his lips move slowly against mine, no sexual intent behind the kiss, drives me further and further into the abyss that is his love, devoted to him whether it is good for me or not. i am far too blind to be able to distinguish between right or wrong, my heart and soul in total agreement that he is the one, regardless of the fact that moments ago, i was unsure. all it takes is his reassurance, his lips on my own, to understand that nobody else is capable of making me feel this way.

seconds feel like hours, the entire concept of time slipping away as i latch onto him, lips becoming pink and swollen as they collide messily, unable to part despite the feeling of breathless that soon takes over. it didn’t matter, none of it did, because tom is my oxygen, and as long as i am able to feel his soft lips on my own, nothing else seems important. moments like these are unable to be recreated, heat rising between us, yet the distance only decreases, until my body is on top of his, tangled within the sheets, kisses soft despite the strong hold he maintains on my hips.

even when our lips separate, our foreheads remain rested against each other’s, content smiles spread across our faces, nothing needing to be said as our expressions sum everything up. his hand moves upward, running softly through my hair, removing loose strands that had found their way onto my face, tucking them slowly behind my ear. for the first time, i am not worried. i don’t waste a second considering ‘what if…’ or ‘what about…’, because it doesn’t matter to me, and once a peaceful silence envelops the both of us, it quickly becomes real, all of it - from the soft kisses, to the sincere confessions: love, there are countless ways to display it, but nobody seemed to get it right, until tom.

his fingers jab playfully into my sides, disturbing the peaceful moment, though it doesn’t alter my mood, a wider smile spreading across my face as i squirm above him, hitting his chest whilst small giggles leave my lips. in one swift motion, he manages to flip us over, somehow dragging the covers over the both of us in the process, his body now on top of my own. the same smile that fails to falter on my own face now spreads across his, though it doesn’t last as long, his mouth opening to speak whilst his hands run up and down my waist rhythmically.

“how does breakfast sound? whatever you like.” he lifts up, moving off of me and to the side, bringing my body closer to him, his arms snaking around my waist comfortingly, lips placing a quick kiss onto my forehead. “let me take you out today. shopping maybe? or what about that pizza place you like?”

“hm, i’ll take you up on breakfast. but can we stay here today? i’m tired, and i forgot how comfy your bed is.” i chuckle quietly, allowing the soft sheets to envelop me further, consequently snuggling closer into tom’s embrace, his body accepting my proximity as he wraps his arms tighter around me.

he laughs lowly at my words, nodding slowly against me, his head tilting to the side as his lips plant a firm kiss into my hair. “sure, anything you want schatz.” i smile contently at his response, sighing softly in relief, closing my eyes at the feeling of peace that soon takes over, careful not to take any of it for granted, relishing every second that i remain within his arms.

and he sticks to his promise. our bodies remain tangled together, wrapped up within the sheets until the familiar blend of oranges and pinks leak through a small gap in the curtains, casting its light throughout the room, somehow highlighting tom’s features in the most beautiful way possible, from the soft pools of brown that are his eyes, to his skin, so smooth it resembles silk itself, the golden rays melting onto his lips, still a light shade of red, decorated with the small metal ring that i have seen so many times. it is perfect: sharing ‘quick’ kisses - though they never ended that way, tom insisting on deepening them until we had to pull away, warm and breathless, meaningless conversations, soft laughter sounding throughout the room, filling the thick air with a reminder of our love for each other. the day ends the same way that it had began, my legs tangled within tom’s, arm draped lazily across his chest, his fingers running soothingly up and down my waist, lips planting quick kisses wherever they are able to gain access to. and, like clockwork, those lips utter the same words they had just hours ago, with the same truthfulness behind them as the first time they had been spoken, only this time, i am certain that he means it.

“i love you, schatz.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[argisthebulwark]

Who Fell First, Who Fell Harder? Trope

summary: Short Character A Fell First, Character B Fell Harder trope drabbles. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Vilkas, Teldryn, Arnbjorn, Cicero, Miraak, Erandur warnings: alcohol mention

You fell first, Vilkas fell harder. It was hardly a surprise when you found yourself seriously interested in him, it was clear from the start you found him attractive. Once the intimidation wore off and you got to know him personally it was only a matter of time before you fell for him. You kept it to yourself as he exactly broadcast an interest in romance - but when the feelings hit they hit him hard. He disliked the physical way he reacted in your presence; hands shaking, heart fluttering, words reduced to a stumbling mess upon meeting your gaze. It would take him a long time to admit he wanted you, only doing so when you admit how you feel for him. 

Teldryn fell first, you fell harder. He found himself slipping more flirtation into your banter and relishing in the way you leaned toward him after a few too many drinks. He could've said something but it was more fun to wait and allow you to figure it out. He would be content with nights spent together on the road, trading stories and sharing a single bottle of wine. It was one of these many nights when you found yourself yearning to kiss him, to close the admittedly small distance between your bodies. You'd quickly realize that you wanted nothing more than to spend all of your nights laughing with him. 

You fell first, Arnbjorn fell harder. Your little crush on him was a well-guarded secret. There never seemed to be an appropriate time to voice your feelings. Even if he didn’t return them it was fun, enjoying the passing glances and fleeting conversations that slowly built a friendship.  He ignored harboring feelings for you as long as possible - pushing them down, cutting conversations short and flat out ignoring you at times. He sought you out only when he could no longer stand it, when it felt like he would choke on the words he struggled to not say. Arnbjorn would admit his feelings for you against his better judgment, shocked when you actually return them. 

You fell first, Cicero fell harder. Upon first meeting at that broken wagon you thought he was cute, an enjoyable change of pace. You’d never encountered someone like him and found your thoughts drifting to him long after your parting. You wondered where he ended up and hoped to see him in each new town you entered. Upon learning that you were his Listener his little crush would explode into full devotion. He’d want nothing more than to be in your presence and lavish his affections upon you. He'd tell anyone within earshot that it was fate or divine intervention that brought you together on that first day.

Miraak fell first, you fell harder. He fell for you in those short moments you shared and his time observing you. He spent his free time noting your likes and dislikes, your habits, every little thing that tied his heart to yours.  You didn’t want to admit your feelings for him - for good reason, of course. But there was something so tantalizing about his snarky comments, always meant to wound but not kill. The way his hands and eyes always seemed to linger a touch too long. You found yourself seeking new ways to spite him purely for a few more minutes in his presence. 

You fell first, Erandur fell harder. Despite your obvious flirtations he seemed too closed off, too unsure of himself to acknowledge your feelings. You gave him the space he clearly needed knowing that it might take him a while to learn what he truly wanted.  He’d long ago realized how deeply he cared for you but stuffed that away. It felt selfish of him to share his feelings, to wish for more when he already had so much. He was saved, the distance from his past growing with each day and he had your unwavering friendship. When he finally spilled his deepest secret he'd be surprised at the easy way you returned them, like it was the most natural thing for you to love him.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Timeless

Summary: Steve breaks up with singer!reader because he doesn't want to hold her back. He starts to question everything after hearing the song she wrote for him.

Warnings: life in the Instagram era

word count: 4695

a/n: 100000% inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift. i did not proofread this bc I am lazy so I do apologize for whatever typos there are

Masterlist

"I just don't get it," Steve overheard the young women talking while waiting in line for coffee. "She could literally be with anyone and she's gonna pick some old guy who literally fought in World War II?" He already had an idea of where this was going, but the response confirmed his fears.

"I know! Like Steve Rogers is hot but that's so weird! He's like 100 years old," she scoffed.

"A man out of time and probably out of touch," the first replied. "I bet he's totally holding her back."

Steve decided to forgo his coffee, simply turning around and leaving before things could get more awkward for him. Dating you has actually been when he's felt most at home in this century, but that doesn't mean he no longer struggles with his new present day.

Hardly a day goes by without you or someone else having to explain something to him, whether it be an insignificant reference to some tv show or more important information on how certain technology works. Suffice it to say, he feels like his age does show. It's something you've talked about in your relationship, but clearly, something Steve still struggles with.

He decided to walk back to the tower using the time to really think about what was best for you in terms of being with him. The first day the two of you met had been a particularly bad one for Steve, but somehow you managed to cheer him up. You've basically been inseparable since.

The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that those women were right. He was holding you back. You spend so much time with him, and at the tower in general, that you haven't really been living the same way you were before.

Before you met Steve, you had just finished your first world tour. You were always traveling or in and out of the studio. Now, you spend all your time in New York and you haven't had so much as a single performance outside of New York in the two and a half years you've been with him.

As he walked the last few steps up to the tower, Steve had already made his decision.

-

You were practically bouncing up and down on the couch as you waited for Steve to get home. After months of writing and recording in the home studio Tony set up for you, you could finally surprise Steve with some new songs. The one you were most excited about hadn't even been recorded yet. You were just too excited to share the lyrics to wait.

You couldn't help but reminisce as you waited, thinking about the first time you'd ever met. After your tour, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep, but Tony had personally invited you to his latest gala and your manager really pushed for you to go. Turns out, it was the best decision of your life.

The sound of the door opening down the hall broke you out of your daydream. The telltale sounds of Steve hanging up his jacket and tossing his keys in the dish by the door confirmed your suspicions.

You nearly tripped over the coffee table in your effort to greet him, but the look on his face stopped you dead in your tracks. "Steve?" you asked. "Are you okay?"

He sighed in response, one hand running through his hair as he looked at the ground. After a few seconds, he managed to meet your eye, but it did nothing to ease the nerves you were now feeling.

"Did something happen?" you asked just as he spoke up.

"We should break up."

His words felt like a physical blow in the silence that followed. You leaned back into the arm of the couch, suddenly unsure of everything.

"What?" you barely breathed out the question. The emotional whiplash was too confusing to process this quickly.

"I just, I don't think we should stay together. I wish I had more to say, but that's it." Steve cut straight to the bone, his own heart breaking. Still, he thought it was for the best.

"Oh," you barely managed to reply, still reeling from the shock. "Um, okay. I'll just... I'll just go."

You walked blindly down the hall and out the door, not even considering what you would do with all of your things that were in the apartment. You didn't even grab your purse, so you couldn't realistically leave the tower. Instead, you headed straight for the studio.

It felt like if you were recording a song about Steve, you could pretend that conversation didn't just happen. You could live in the past for just another few hours before reality finally hit you.

You still had the music pulled up in the recording booth. You'd gone so far as to take out some of the most inspiring pictures that lead to this song. There were plenty of pictures of you and Steve, but also the old black and white photos you found in the antique shop.

Thankfully Tony set things up so you could record on your own if you wanted, so that's exactly what you did.

Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in...

-

Instead of facing your emotions head-on, you dove into your work. You recorded every song you had left for the album, only contacting your manager and the label when things were finished.

They had a few things to tweak, but the record was ready not even two weeks later. Since you'd already been teasing the songs on tik tok, your label agreed to a surprise release. Thirteen songs would be released at the end of the week.

With the album ready and the date picked, you switched focus to scheduling performances at award shows and TV interviews. Anything to keep you from the gutwrenching reality of your emotions.

- Steve wasn't doing much better. His mood was foul and everybody could tell. Seeing as you were avoiding everyone by staying in an apartment owned by your label, the team tried cornering Steve for information.

"What the hell happened with Y/N?" Nat finally asked when Steve brushed off the slightly less invasive questions about how he was doing. He simply shook his head, glaring at an unphased Natasha.

"Have you listened to her new album?" Sam asked, trying to break the tension before all hell broke loose.

Steve tensed at the mention of your music. He had not listened to it, but the mere existence sent him into a spiral. In his eyes, it proved his point. Two and a half weeks without him and you were already releasing music. Something you hadn't done in the two and a half years you'd been together.

"Just leave me alone," he all but begged. Listening to the songs he knew- or at least strongly expected- would be about him was too much to even consider. He shook off the questions with the sheer desperation in his eyes. Everyone could tell it was hitting him hard, but not knowing why they broke up made it difficult to try and help.

-

Things continued much the same for the next month. Steve avoided all things that reminded him of you. You worked every second you could, desperate to not have to think about how everything went wrong.

In those few moments when you had actually thought about Steve, you more than anything wanted to know why. It had gotten so far as to you hovering your finger over his contact, one split second from calling when your manager phoned you instead.

"Hello," you answered, desperately trying to hide the strain from your voice.

"They want you to perform at the Grammy's," your manager, Gina, wasted no time with pleasantries.

"Oh my god," you didn't know how to feel. "That's in three days!" This album meant so much to you, but it was entirely about falling and being in love with Steve. How could you perform one of your best love songs on one of the biggest stages in music with a broken heart?

"Do they want a specific song?" Somehow your mind kept working even though your heart was breaking all over again.

"You get to choose," Gina continued to gush, but you couldn't listen. Having to choose was almost worse. You managed to tune back in for the last bit of information. "I know it's weird because you're not nominated, but nobody expected Rihanna to have to pull out. The news is her baby is the picture of health though! Since this is so last minute, they need to know what song the day after tomorrow for scheduling purposes."

"I'll do Timeless," you blurted out. Having to make the decision would be the worst part, right? So now you can just prepare and deal with it.

"You sure?" she asked, wary of it being one of the most detailed love songs on the album.

"Yep!" The enthusiasm was easy to fake. You were excited to perform at the Grammy's, and this is the song you're most proud of. It'll be fine.

"I'll let them know! Check your email for the itinerary. Bye!" she hung up in a flash, leaving you alone with your thoughts again.

Steve's contact was still pulled up on your phone. It felt like it was mocking you. Of course, Timeless would be the song you blurt out in a panic. It was the one you were most excited for him to hear. You can't imagine he's listened to the album. He might not even know it was released. A Grammy's performance was the closest to a guarantee that he'd hear it.

Now you just had to practice singing as if it wasn't going to emotionally wreck you.

-

"We've been invited to the Grammy's," Tony burst into the room with no preamble.

"Who's we?" Sam asked, already planning the suit he would wear in his mind.

"Four of us, bird brain," Tony replied swiftly. "Normally I'd be all over this, but I promised Morgan I would build her big girl bed with her tomorrow, so I'm stuck. You all have to go."

Nat, Sam, and Bucky all seemed okay with the invitation, and in Sam's case mildly excited. Steve, on the other hand, scowled at Tony. He was only about 60% sure the Grammy's were for music, but if the 60% was right he would rather go on a mission in Antarctica than potentially be in the same building as Y/N right now.

"I don't wanna hear it, Capsicle." Tony read the look on his face. "Four of us have to be there, and as our fearless leader that means you. Friday will send the details." He walked out much the same way he walked in, with a dramatic flair that left no room for questions.

"I guess we're going to the Grammy's," Nat cut a look across the room to Steve, gauging his reaction.

"So we are," he mumbled, quickly leaving the room before anyone could ask him about you.

-

Getting ready in your apartment was the only thing holding you together. Gina came over early this morning to lay out the details of your dress, hair, makeup, and any last-minute accessory decisions.

"You ready for this?" she asked, buzzing with excitement. The car would be here to pick you up any minute.

"As I'll ever be," you shakily replied. Despite making the decision quickly, you'd yet to settle the reality of performing the song in front of a crowd with how it felt to record it alone in a booth.

"Well, you can shake off those last few nerves right now. You're gonna be amazing. Remember, you're toward the end of the show. I guess you'll be a break from the nominated artists just before they announce album of the year, okay?"

You merely nodded in response, still trying to get over the nerves. You followed her down to the car, going over the lyrics in your head. Repetition was your best bet to stave off any emotional outbursts during the actual performance.

-

Steve had barely said a word all day, choosing instead to just float through the day. He wore the suit presented to him with no questions asked. He followed the schedule Friday had given him to a tee. He left no room for conversation, the glare on his face deterring any small talk.

He looked up the list of performers in an attempt to see if Y/N would be there, but she wasn't listed. The only thing causing him worry was the "surprise guest" that had been invited to replace Rihanna, who had to pull out of performing because she had a baby a few days ago. The amount of detail about other people's lives on the internet still surprised Steve sometimes, but he was glad to hear she was doing well- whoever she was.

He managed to hold it together through the red carpet, hearing whispers from the crowds that strung his and your name together. That was one of the things that drew the two of you together. It may have been a different kind of attention, but you both had faces the general public might recognize. Being the center of attention was never the goal for either of you, so your relationship remained largely private.

"Weird that he didn't walk the carpet with Y/N..." one guest whispered. Steve's enhanced hearing meant he could still pick up the voices. It was almost as if he was involuntarily listening for your name and honing in on the conversation.

"I mean, they've always been private... unless, do you think they broke up?" the responder gasped. Steve felt his heartbeat increase, being the subject of rumors and gossip never sat well with him.

"But this whole album is so happy! Maybe she-"

Steve was pulled inside before he could hear the rest. Probably for the best, he thought. Now that he knew you were here, he needed to focus on avoiding you.

Apparently, that wouldn't be hard. He and his fellow Avengers assigned seats were much further back than the musicians that were invited or nominated. He could see you from his seat, but you were far enough away to basically guarantee no forced interactions.

He merely sat in his seat, greeting people as they stopped by to say hello, and waited for the show to start. The quicker this thing was over, the quicker he would be able to go back to avoiding his feelings.

-

Walking the carpet was an absolute dream. You only wish you could've been more present. You were still incredibly nervous for your performance, and the murmurs you heard about the Avengers being in attendance did nothing to help.

You just had to choose to believe that Steve wouldn't come tonight. Unless he was so unaffected by the breakup that he could be here without it being a problem, which was a scenario you needed to put out of your head. No thoughts of break ups or Steve. At least, not until the performance.

Finding your table was easy enough once you got inside, and refusing to look around may have seemed odd, but people could easily chalk it up to nerves. Not many new about your surprise performance, but everyone knew it was your first Grammy's ceremony You were on tour when you were nominated for Best New Artist, ultimately winning the award, but missing out on the ceremony.

Other artists stopped by and chatted for a few minutes until eventually the lights dimmed and the show began.

-

Before long, a stage manager was ushering you out of your chair on a commercial break and bringing you backstage to get ready. You hadn't had much choice when it came to your carpet look- a gorgeous pink dress with plenty of tulle- but your performance look was more customizable.

You chose a dark blue set with plenty of crystals sewn onto the fabric. It looked like the night sky, and if blue is Steve's favorite color so what. This was the exact vibe you'd dreamed up when you were writing the song, so it only felt right to perform in it.

Your hair and makeup needed minimal changes, so after a few touch ups, you were being ushered toward the stage. It seemed everything backstage was happening fast enough to leave no time for nerves.

"And now, our long awaited surprise performer! She has taken the world by storm with her surprise release, I wouldn't be surprised if we saw her nominated for next year's awards. Please welcome F/N L/N performing Timeless!"

You were already seated at the piano when the curtains were drawn back. Although the song wasn't a piano ballad on the album, it felt right for this performance. You wasted no time getting started once the cheers died down.

Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in. On the counter was a cardboard box and the sign said "Photo's 25 cents each."

They were some very literal opening lines, and unsurprisingly the memories were flooding through you. You were out walking around the city, trying to clear your head, when you stumbled upon an antique store. The photos on the counter were the very first inspiration for lyrics to the vague idea of a song.

Black and white, saw a 30s bride and two lovers laughing on the porch of their first house. The kind of love you only find once in a lifetime. The kind you don't put down. And that's when I called you, and it's so hard to explain, but in those photos, I saw us instead.

It was so easy to envision Steve in the 30s, you couldn't help but put yourself in these photos with him. Your lives would be so different if you'd met back then, but there wasn't a doubt in your mind that you would love him just the same.

And, somehow, I know that you and I would've found each other. In another life, you still would've turned my head.

This was something you'd told Steve over and over. Every time he felt unsure of being in this time, you said "I would love you in any life, Steve. Any life. I'm just glad you found me in this one." You really had to gear up for the first chorus. It had one of the most telling, and therefore nerve wracking, lines.

-

Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war. You still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.

Steve was slack jawed as he listened to your song for the first time. The way you were able to take the little memories and build such a beautiful melody out of them astounded him. His emotions were suddenly overwhelming, and there was now way for him to runaway from them this time.

I would've read your love letters every single night, and prayed to god you'd be coming home alright. And you would've been fine. We would've been timeless.

It wasn't that far off from this reality. Anytime Steve was on a mission, he'd write you letters to read while he was away. After the first time, you started writing letters for him to take with him as well. Even if the two of you couldn't talk on the phone, you had something from the other to tide you over.

'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this. So even in a different life, you still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.

There was that line about a different life again. Steve already felt like he was living a different life, and somehow you knew exactly how to express what he was feeling while simultaneously reassuring him of your own love.

I had to smile when it caught my eye, there was one of a teenage couple in the driveway. Holdin' hands on the way to a dance and the date on the back said 1958. Which brought me back to the first time I saw you. Time stood still like something in this old shop.

Steve could still easily picture the very first second he saw your face. He wanted to be anywhere but Tony's party, having just come back from a mission that was only moderately successful. They had saved the hostages, but the Hydra agents managed to escape. He wanted nothing more than to track them down and being at the party would only delay everything.

When Tony brought you around for introductions, he found the mission had slipped entirely from his head. You somehow managed to lighten the mood without knowing why he was so grumpy, earning an uncharacteristic laugh from Steve still in Captain mode.

It was no surprise to anyone at the party when the two of you spent the rest of the evening together. Sitting at the bar, or the rare slow dance meant you could continue the never ending conversation.

Steve found himself so lost in thought, he missed most of the second verse and chorus. It wasn't until Bucky nudged him that he refocused on your words.

-

We're gonna be... I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray. We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made. And you'll say, "Oh my, we really were timeless."

You could feel the tears building through the second chorus and the bridge, but the third chorus really broke you down. You didn't understand why Steve decided it was best to break up and never getting that closure was taking its toll. You couldn't stop the few tears from falling, the notes that followed uncharacteristically wobbly.

-

We're gonna be timeless, timeless. You still would've been mine. We would've been... Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944. You still would've been mine. We would've been...

Steve could hear the tears in your voice easier than he could see them. His moment of weakness was haunting him as his own tears started to fall. He brushed them away quickly, forcing himself to hold it together until you were done.

Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in.

It was clear to him now more than ever that he was so wrong. He let his insecurities get the better of him, and messed up the single greatest thing that had come from being in this century.

With the show nearly over, he didn't think anyone would notice his absence. Instead of returning to his seat at the end of the commercial break, he slipped out a side exit. He wanted nothing more than to talk to you, but had no way of finding you.

"Steve!" He turned at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. To his surprise, your manager was standing just a few feet away. "She left right after the song, said she's too tired for the afterparty."

Steve nodded, unsure why she was telling him.

"Here's her current address. Code to the elevator is 0704," she winked, passing him a slip of paper. Understanding dawned on him, and he wanted to scream.

"Thank you, Gina. Really," he managed to control the maelstrom of emotion, subtly slipping outside as quickly as he could. He was meant to ride home in the hired car with the rest of the Avengers, but your address wasn't too far from the Garden. He opted to walk, slowly transitioning into a run as his desperation grew. The flash of cameras followed him down the street, but with his speed he outpaced them quickly enough. He had one thing on his mind and one thing only, fixing things with you.

-

The pounding on your door scared you more than you'd care to admit. Nobody should be able to reach this floor without the code, but still. The knocking had an air of desperation that you wouldn't expect from anyone visiting right now. Gina was the logical choice, but was skipping the afterparty that big of a deal?

You had planned to double check through the peephole, but before you reached the door, the very last voice you'd have expected sounded clear through the door.

"Y/N? Gina, she gave me the code. I just, I need to apologize. I... I fucked up." He stalled, in nearly as much disbelief as you at hearing the words fall out of his mouth.

You swung the door open, gesturing for him to come in. You didn't trust yourself to speak. Hell, you barely trusted yourself to look at him. Once you both settled on the couch, you finally risked a glance.

Steve looked more distraught than you'd ever seen him, but his lack of explanation still left you reeling. He seemed to be at a loss for words himself until you looked at him.

"We really are timeless, huh?" he tried easing into things, instantly regretting his choice of words when you nearly vaulted off the couch.

"Steve, what the hell? You break up with me with no explanation and show up quoting my own lyrics to me?" your words lacked the anger you wished you could express, too raw from the performance to cover the dimensions of hurt. The tears were quick to return to your eyes as Steve slowly approached you.

He grabbed your hands in his and when you showed no signs of pulling away, tried again. "I made the biggest mistake of my life that day. Not just in not explaining, but in deciding I knew what was best for you. In thinking I was doing the right thing by giving in to my fears.

"You are single-handedly the greatest person I've ever known. And I overheard these women saying you could have anyone and do anything... I managed to convince myself that you deserved more. To pretend like breaking up with you was noble and not because I was afraid you'd come to the same conclusion as them"

"Steve," you shook your head, a few tears falling. You were at a loss for words. For the last two months, you thought he just fell out of love with you. His reasoning, although flawed, was reassuring. Still, it didn't undo the hurt he caused.

"I should've known better. And I can't undo what I've already done, but I can promise to never doubt you again. To come to you with my insecurities and listen to your voice when mine isn't strong enough. And I hope I can be that person for you in life- to reassure you when you feel lost." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I love you and if you'll have me again, I want to be timeless with you."

You could feel yourself squeezing his hands tighter and tighter as he spoke, trying to funnel the overwhelming emotions into physical exertion instead of tears.

"I love you too," you whispered, voice breaking on a fresh wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him lead you back to the couch. You still had a lot to discuss, but right now, you just wanted him to hold you.

-

Bonus:

A few hours later, after many discussions about ignoring gossip and coming to each other with your problems, Steve finally managed to work up the nerve to voice once more question.

"Is the rest of the album about loving me, or is there a breakup song on there? Because I can handle it, but I might need some warning."

You stared at him for a beat before the question really sunk in.

"You haven't listened to any of it?" you confirmed. When he nodded, you just smirked. "While, I guess you'll find out right now then."

You knew it was 13 songs expressing different kinds of love for him, but you would let him sweat it out for the next 57 minutes.

a/n: here are the songs I envision on the album lol:

Timeless, Call It What You Want, Sweet Nothing, Daylight, New Year's Day, invisible string, Dress, False God, Paper Rings, Cornelia Street, evermore, Today Was A Fairytale, Lover

taglist:

Permanent: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @andrwgxrfield @jswessie187 @ellobruv @alohastitch0626

Marvel: @leyannrae @livstilinski @oceaniamaddness @justreadingficsdontmindme @ladydmalfoy @freyathehuntress

[eveningepiphany]

bestie i definitely want a part two of the mistletoe!

Mistletoe | H.S, part 2

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summary: Y/Ns flight gets canceled last minute after their morning BBC show, and without anywhere to go she calls harry— and it’s their first time alone together after the kiss they’d shared under the mistletoe.

warnings: smut, soft/bestfriend harry, oral f receiving, PIV unprotected, riding, praise kink, fluff, and dirty talk.

a/n: thank you all so much for your support on part one! I hope you enjoy this just as much, and thank you for your patience in waiting for this— hope your holiday season was filled with fun. I <3 soft harry.

———

The morning show had gone great, despite the mountains of tension between you and Harry. Maybe no one else picked up on it, and you were just hyper aware of his every glance and touch.

Hell, maybe you were even reading into it. Maybe last night was just a one off thing. A spur of the moment—never to be talked about— kind of thing. It could’ve meant nothing.

You’d woken up together, his alarm blaring from his phone further down the his mattress. You’d groaned together, collectively complaining about how fucking early it was. But not once mentioned last night, or the fact you woke up together.

But you didn’t have another chance to talk about it— when he and Anne dropped you all off at the airport he hugged you last out of the boys— it was a tight hug, paired with a whispered, ‘I’ll call you when you’re home.’

So you are unsure where everything stands. And you’d been left to mull it over in the uncomfortable airport chairs that you’d already been in for far too long.

You’d been in this damn airport far too long.

You suppose now though, the whole thing with you and Harry is the currently the least of your problems.

The rest of the boys are probably home by now.

“Assholes.” You mutter, cursing them for that exact reason.

Your gate had begun to quieten down since the announcement of the delay.

The boys flights were hardly an hour after you got to the airport, yours on the other hand was about 5.

Within those 5 hours, a storm had came crashing over this part of the UK.

Now you were without accomodation for the next 16 hours, which was apparently the earliest they could reschedule.

It was already 9:30pm– so you didn’t know what to do with yourself, it’s a long time to wait around in the airport.

You knew it was gonna be hard to get a hotel room, given how many flights had been delayed this last minute.

So, you sat for a minute and contemplate it. Without many other options you opened your phone and rung the only person who you could think of. The only person you had been thinking of.

You pressed your lips together as it rung, and on the fourth ring his voice came through.

“Y/N, love?” He sounded a little raspy, tired.

“Harry, im so sorry— you weren’t asleep were you?” You say, quickly feeling apologetic.

“No, no— jus’ laying down on the couch watching friends, why? It’s like 9:30 shouldn’t you be on your flight?”

“Yea uh… I am supposed to be.” Your voice faltered a little at the end, you just wanted to go home. You were already emotionally exhausted, and this on top was proving to be a bit much.

You glance outside the airport windows trying to distract yourself— not wanting to start having a mental breakdown in the middle of the airport and draw unwanted attention your way. It had got dark hours ago but it was clearly bucketing down rain.

“What happened?” He asked, immediately sounding concerned at your wavering voice.

“Is it not raining at your place? It torrential here, my flight got delayed.” You laugh a little, without humour.

“No it’s not— how far back was it pushed?”

“16 hours, not till 1pm tomorrow.” You sigh.

“Holy shit…” He audibly gasps through the speaker.

“I hate to be asking, but is it ok if I catch a taxi or an Uber back yours? I don’t think I’m gonna find anywhere to st—“

“Y/N, you are not catching a taxi or an Uber, I’m coming to get you.” He states, and you hear him shuffling in the background. Keys getting pulled from a drawer.

“You don’t have to come get me, I’m fine to get there—“

He cuts you off again, “Nope, I’m getting in the car now, I’ll be there in about an hour.”

“Harry, I swear I’ll be ok!” You feel terrible, knowing he is probably just as tired as you are.

“See y’soon, stay warm. Buy somethin’ to eat and drink while you wait, love. Call you when I get there.” You hear the engine start, you don’t even have time to protest anymore because he hangs up on you.

You groan aloud, frustration mixed with gratitude coursing through you.

Standing from the chair you’d been sitting in, you stretch. Sunglasses and beanie pulled over your face to try and prevent people from recognising you.

Even though you felt guilty he was driving all this way to get you, you were also relieved. trying to get an Uber somewhere, especially with your status is anxiety inducing to say the least.

You just hoped he drove safe in this weather.

You decide to go and buy food, sourcing a place that served your favourites.

The hour dragged on after you’d ate, and you felt drowsy. You were sitting at one of the tables closer to the exit, charging your phone when it rung.

When you answered, Harry of course was on the other side of the line.

“Hey sweet, sorry for the wait. I’m out the front.” You smile with relief, glad he was here safe.

“Thank you so much, H. I’m coming out now—“

“I parked in the 5 minute ones, you’ll see my car.”

You quickly chuck your charger into your bag, grabbing your suitcase and head straight for the sliding doors.

A blast of freezing wind hits you as you walk out, and you feel it to your bones.

True to his word, you spot Harry’s car a few metres away, and you were grateful he got such a close park.

He gets out the moment he sees you, popping the trunk.

“Are you ok?” He asks the second you’re close enough to hear him over the wind and rain, grabbing your face between his warm hands.

“Mmhm— just emotionally burnt out. Thank you for coming to get me.” You smile, his concern endearing.

He nods, relief thrumming through him. He picks up your suitcase, placing it into his trunk.

You both hurry into his car, trying to get out of the cold.

It’s perfectly warm in there, and you strap into the passenger side.

“You didn’t have to come all this way. I appreciate it though.” You whisper.

“Yes I did. I know you’re safe, and that we’ll get home together in one piece. That is worth endlessly more than an hour drive.”

You feel his words seep into the centre of your chest, warm and soft. You reach your hand over to grab his, squeezing it.

You don’t move it and he starts to drive, and you both talk about random stuff as you usually do together. It half lulls you to sleep, your head leaning against the window.

This hour went much faster, the highway was quiet and his home town even quieter.

You pull into his childhood home, and he turns the engine off.

You force your head up, shaking your limbs out. “I’m awake.”

He laughs at you trying to convince yourself. You slide out the car door, legs feeling a little numb as they try to hold you up.

He grabs your suitcase out for you, wheeling it to the access door and unlocking it.

The lamps are dimly lit, and the TV not properly turned off— it was clear he had left in a moments notice.

“Thank you.” You say, for what had to be the 12th time.

“Stop thanking me, Y/N.” He chuckles.

It was nearly midnight now, and he walked over to flick everything off.

“Is Anne asleep?”

“Yea, mum went to bed pretty early— was too early a start for her this morning. Or yesterday, seeing it’s nearly midnight.”

“I’m feeling her, I could’ve fell asleep at the damn airport.”

You trudge towards the stairs, carrying up your suitcase.

He quickly follows you up once everything downstairs is off.

You stop at the top, placing your bag down with a quiet thump and a pant— it was physical workout, considering how much your bag weighed. It baffles you how Harry carries it like it weighs nothing.

Your eyes flit over to the window without even thinking, straight to where you’d shared that kiss. The one you’d been replaying in your head since it happened.

Your first, and very perfect kiss together.

He’s standing behind you quietly, clocking where your eyes are looking. And he’s reliving the exact same memory as you.

He draws in a breath, trying to stabilise his emotions— his fingertips burning with the pure need to touch you.

You swallow at the thought of stumbling into his room last night, realising you just assumed you were staying in there tonight as well.

“Forget where you’re going, sweet?” He runs his hand down your back.

The touch leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“No… just- distracted.” You mumble, allowing him to slip past you and lead you into his room.

It smells just like him as you walk in, and it will never fail to overwhelm you. How perfect his scent is.

“Mmm, I bet.” He says ambiguously.

“What is that supposed to mean.” It slips out of your mouth shyer than you intended.

He turns, locking eyes with you, “I think you know exactly what I mean by that.”

“I don’t.” You say, defiantly.

He moves carefully closer, “you don’t?”

It’s a challenge when it comes from his mouth, you can only shake your head.

He kisses the pulse point on your neck, just how he had under the mistletoe— except this time he takes the skin between his lips, giving it a harsh suck.

“Remind you at all?” He pulls away an inch, and the blood has rushed into your cheeks— so much so they felt like they were on fire.

You don’t say anything. You don’t know how. Your lips move, but nothing comes out.

“How about this…” he trails up to your parted lips, ghosting over them.

You were awake now. Your whole body pulsing with the thoughts of where his hands— and lips— could touch.

“Harry…” you whined, and the noise was enough to have him seeing stars.

He slid his hands down to the small of your back, tugging you as close as possible.

“I swear, you are unreal, Y/N.” He sighs into your cheek.

You push your lips back into his, and he parts them for you straight away.

You slip your tongue into his mouth, savouring the feeling of it. Allowing yourself to map it out with gradual strokes.

He’s panting already, and he pushes you back, both of you stumbling into the middle of his bed.

He ends up taking the lead again, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth— knowing the kind of reaction it spiked in you last time.

You moan into his mouth, and glide your hand into his soft hair, pulling at the roots.

His have found their way up your shirt, cupping your breasts through the bra you’re wearing.

“If you want to stop—“ he says, breathlessly, “now is the time, because I don’t know if I can do this again.”

The room around you falls quiet and you cautiously look to meet his gaze.

“What do you mean?” You ask— little to no clue what he’s implying, a little panic rising in your chest.

He stares at you, serious, hands roaming down to your lower back.

“Kiss you like this, have you moaning like this— and not have you come because of me atleast twice.”

“Leaving you to fall asleep next to me— wet enough I could feel it through your sleep shorts, and not have anything done about it— is something I am not having happen again.” His words made you shiver, and his admission last night to how bad he wanted to make you finish on his face was ringing in your ears.

“What about Anne?”

“To hell with it.” He huffs, peeling his tshirt over his head, “She’ll be dead to the world at this hour— just try to keep quiet.”

“If this is what you want to do, anyway?” He clarifies, “And if y’wanna stop at anytime y’know y’can.”

“God, Harry you don’t understand how bad I want to feel you.” You affirm, pulling your own sweatshirt off, “I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“Thank you, darling. As much as I’d love to hear your pretty moans…” his sentence trails off, kissing the top of your breasts as he lays you down.

“Want your mouth on me.” You plead, the thought of it being enough to have you clenching around nothing.

“I’m sure you do, ‘specially after I put it in your head last night. Have you been thinking about it all day, hmm?” He teases, shifting down your body.

“Yea— yea I have.” You confess with a whine.

He raises his brows, trailing wet kisses down your stomach.

“What about before? You ever got off to the thought of my tongue in your pussy?” He smirks, knowing he’s venturing into uncharted territory— admissions of want, prior to your first kiss.

“Your ego would love to hear a yes wouldn’t it.” You tease a little, even though it would be a lie to say you haven’t conjured up small fantasies of him late at night. Ones where he’s got more than just his head between your legs.

“Oh, it would. But I think I already know the answer, going off how hot and bothered I’m making you.”

Which is true, you’re squirming beneath him, unconsciously arching up your lower half trying to get any kind of friction.

“Can I take these off?” He asks with warm hands tucked into your waistband, waiting for your curt nod before he shucks your pants down, your panties half going with it.

The energy shifts, his hands coming to a halt.

Like the realisation of what he’s doing and who he’s touching like this has come crashing down, just from seeing your lower half laid bare for him.

Harry is your best friend, your bandmate. Someone who you never thought would actually have their hands on you like this.

“Fuck. Look at you.” The sight of you looking up at him like that, all doe-eyed and shy had his cock aching.

His hands slip back into motion, but this time with less urgency.

He pulls both your pants and underwear off your legs, tossing them somewhere on his floor.

He pushes a finger through your slit, “This why you’re so wet? Been waiting for me to get my mouth on you for longer than you admitted.”

“Please, Harry.”

You push your hips into his touch, groaning into the sheets of his bed as he draws slow circles on your clit.

He leans to press a kiss into the crease of your thigh, so close to where you want him most.

Licking a stripe along the same spot, you begin to plead, “Please just touch me. Need it…”

“My poor girl is so needy. Cant even wait a second for me to get my tongue on her.” He coos, but gives in either way, letting his tongue push through your wet slit.

You’re trying so hard to hold back the moans as he flicks and sucks your clit, but fuck is this the best oral you’ve ever had.

Most guys you’ve been with rush through it, wanting to get it over with because it does nothing to please them. But Harry is clearly a giver, and gets a lot out of pleasing someone like this.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna make me come so fast.” You cry, an arm getting thrown over your face as you arch into every movement he makes.

He smiles into you, moving his mouth to your entrance, pushing his tongue in a bit before dragging back up to you clit— his nose bumping it in just the right spot.

Another moan comes out of you, unbridled as your cunt flutters in sync with the licks he’s placing against you.

He swaps between your clit and entrance, making sure both are getting the attention they deserve. Fast firm strokes along you— paired with kisses and sucks — are having you come undone faster than you’d expected.

“Shhh, baby, been doing so well f’me, can feel how close you are.” He pushes a finger into you, and you have to bite down on your lip to try and keep yourself quiet.

Pushing in another finger, he grunts, “God, you’re tight.”

“Been awhile…” you spoke, voice wavering— it sounding distant in your own head.

He hummed into you, the vibration of it pulsing through the whole of your body.

Curse words were flying out your lips, which you were trying so hard to keep shut. But every lap of his tongue against you had your resolve to keep quiet slipping through your grasp.

“I’m going to come, H. Hard.” You moaned— it was tearing out of you loudly, and you tired to muffle it with the crook of your arm.

“You can come, darling, ‘round my fingers and mouth like a good girl.”

His permission and praise was all you needed to tip over the edge, your cunt spasming around his fingers that were still pumping in and out of you.

He licked through your slick until you couldn’t breathe, your legs closing around his head trying to get him off your sensitive nerves.

Your breath was laboured as he pulled back, placing a final kiss on your stomach before making his way back up your body.

“Thank you…” you tiredly said, laying with your eyes half-lidded on his bed. And although you felt like you could fall asleep, there was no way you could not let him fuck you properly after that.

You pushed yourself up, and moved onto his lap.

He watched you carefully, a question in his eyes.

That was answered as you ground your hips carefully into his, the fabric of his sweatpants sending a zip up your spine.

“We don’t have to, sweet. Not if your tired.” His hand fell to your hip.

But when his mouth is still glistening with your arousal and cock is so hard underneath you, how could you not?

“I know, Harry. I really want to though.” You sigh into his neck, arms wrapped around his shoulders as you rubbed yourself along his fabric-covered boner.

All of the little noises coming from the back of his throat were sounded into your ear, and knowing how good this must be making him feel charged you to keep going.

“That’s right. Rub yourself through it Y/N. Over my cock, dripping all onto my pants.” His tone was deep, dipped in honey as he spoke to you.

You moaned as he snapped his hips upwards to meet the movement of your own.

“I’m clean and on the pill.” You say into his ear, shuddering. You have never wanted anything more.

He pauses, realisation at what your insinuating.

“Are you a hundered percent sure? Because I trust that you’re clean. And so am I.”

You start moving your hips again, “a thousand percent.”

“Can just imagine how easy m’gonna slip into you.” He traces patterns along the base of your spine.

“Just want to make you feel good, H.” You kiss the warm skin of his neck, taking it into your lips and biting it gently.

“Fuck, well y’already doing a good job of that.”

Your hand travels to his waistband, and he allows you to pull him out of his boxers.

He’s thick in your hand, heavy just as you’d imagined. But it’s so much better than you’d thought. He’s warm and smooth, head of him as pink as his lips.

You stroke along it, thumb brushing over his tip, dragging the pre-come that had leaked out down his shaft, indulging in his grunts that are sounding in your ear.

You shift up on your knees— unable to wait any longer, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds with a mutual gasp.

You rub a few circles on your clit with it, until your knees feel like they’re going to buckle. Which no better a time to line him up with your entrance.

“God— are you going to ride me?” He moans, holding you still with his hands for a moment.

“Is that ok?”

“That is so fucking hot.” He states, eyes pinching closed.

You sink yourself into him, feeling the stretch of your cunt as it tries to accomodate his large size.

You scrape your nails down his back as you get to the base of him, moaning in sync with one another.

“Oh my god.” His stomach muscles are clenching, “don’t move.”

The walls of his room seem to be spinning around him, and he inhales a deep breath in attempt to ground himself.

His hands rest on the peak of your hips, as he shudders out the same breath he just took in, “Sorry— you’re just so fuckin’ warm and tight.”

“You’re huge.” You whimper in response.

“Taking it so well. Knew you would, knew you’d be so snug around my cock. Always wanted to have you moan like this for me.” The words spill like a lust-drunk confession from his mouth.

You can’t even find anything to say back, just a passionate kiss over his lips.

“Can move now.” He says into your mouth.

Your hips gradually begin to move, starting with slow and precise rolls that have you both panting against each other.

His cock twitched inside you as you picked up the pace, bouncing up and down on him— your fingers finding their way down to your clit.

All you could feel was the hot burning pleasure in the pit of your stomach, and so much was coming from your mouth but you couldn’t even tell what it was. Just a mixture of swearing, moans and his name.

“Shh, sweet girl— fuck— know it feels so good but you have to stay quiet.” He cups your jaw, sealing your lips with another kiss.

The heat radiating off both of your bodies was searing, paired with the fiery pleasure in your stomachs, it could fight off even the coldest of December days.

His other hand replaced your own, and worked your clit better than you ever could. His long fingers swirling your bud in fast circles that matched your every bounce.

His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, desperately trying to hush his own groans. It was a sight to see him, his flushed face and messy brown curls— how he was trying just as hard to hold back.

“You’re so warm. Riding me so well.” He praises you with a grunt, stroking your clit with more pressure. You couldn’t even manage to respond, your thoughts were beyond muddled, and they only got worse as he increased the speed of his fingers.

The feeling of his cock sliding through your walls had your jaw fall completely lax, your hot breath fanning across his damp skin.

His only free hand travelled to your breast, kneading the warm flesh there, tweaking your nipple with gentle fingers.

“Oh god, oh god— Harry!” Every touch was clashing together into one euphoric feeling, your whole body shaking.

Your muscles were clenched taut, like a rubber band getting pulled tighter and tighter— and you were about to snap.

“Fuck, come around my cock— wanna feel it.”

His hips are bucking up to meet your bounces, he’s hitting every spot inside you.

“Harry— I’m going to— I’m gonna come.” You cried into his shoulder.

Praise is pouring from his mouth, and all it takes is a final flick of your clit too have you knocked of all your air.

Your jaw drops, teeth hitting Harry’s sharp collarbone, mantras of his name coming breathlessly from your mouth.

“God you’re perfect— squeezing so perfectly around me.” He moans, still playing with your clit.

“Please come, baby. Want you to fill me up.” You plead— tugging the roots of his hair, trying to keep up the pace of your bounces despite the blinding pleasure.

“Fuckk.” He comes within seconds of hearing you beg for it, his hips stuttering to meet your thrusts— his abdomen flexing under your fingers.

You ride him to the point your eyes are tearing up with the overstimulation, ensuring you get every drop of warm come you can from him.

Eventually you come to a halt at the base of him, now that both your orgasms have dulled out and he’s softening inside you.

You kiss his temple, hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders.

“You were so good for me, love.” He whispers.

You slip out of him, missing how he filled you up immediately. He rolled you both over before you could think about it too much, and your legs wrapping around his middle.

You looked down at the moth tattoo situated between your legs, and boldly you state, “I’d ride this too if I wasn’t so tired.”

His brows shoot up as you say that, your fingers beginning to outline the tattoo gingerly.

“You’re gonna give me another boner if you keep this up.” His voice falling a tone deeper.

A laugh sounds from you, and you cuddle up into his chest, “Sorry, but not really.” You say.

He plays with your hair, “Asshole.”

Your falling into a drowsy state, “Are you plaiting my hair?”

He hums a yes, “d’ya have a hair tie for it?”

“On my wrist.” You huff out a laugh, and you pull your hand from around his neck so he can pull it off.

He ties it, and kisses your forehead.

“Goodnight Y/N.” He whispers, seeing your shut eyes.

“Goodnight Harry.” You whisper back, pausing for a few seconds— then daring to say what’s been lingering on the tip of your tongue all night.

“I love you.” It’s a hush confession, one your too tied to care if you’re gonna regret it.

He looks down at you, through his own half-lidded eyes, “fuck, I love you too. So much.”

———

[moodyboozewriting]

grove magic (rolan x reader) pt. 2/2

part 1

reader is gender neutral

“Huh?” You tilt your head to the side to emphasize your confusion at his proclamation.

“The person I… I like.”

It's unclear whether you're leaning slowly towards him, or if it's the typical effect of a few to many glasses of wine. It is at this moment that you vaguely recall a teasing conversation between yourself and the three tiefling siblings regarding Rolan’s love life, and an irritated admittance from him that he was, in fact, interested in someone. You can’t help but laugh. “You’re still thinking about that?” Rolan can’t seem to do much but nod his head. Despite your response- or maybe because of it- his expression is serious. Rolan says nothing, but you can feel his insecurity seep through his skin and slip through your fingers into the open air. You could hardly believe the words you just heard, if it wasn't for the fidgeting individual in front of you. You don't realize you're staring until Rolan shuts his eyes and covers his face with his hands, quickly stammering to cover up his most recent advances. As he brings his hands up to his face, he essentially pushes your hands off of him.

"Forget I said anything. It means nothing anyhow," he says through his fingers, shrinking away from your extending hand that he didn't even realize was there.

"Rolan..."

"Really, you can disregard it. Definitively just my drunken stupor speaking and-"

"Rolan."

He peers at you through wet eyes and slightly parted fingers. You lean in closer- this time intentionally- and gently grasp his wrists to pull his hands down from his face. Once you can clearly see him- emotional as he looks- you can't help but to tenderly cup his face in your palms. "I like you back." For a moment, the silence between you two is so vast that you count each breath you exchange without realizing it. You allow your thumbs to absent-mindedly brush at his cheeks, doing away with pesky tears that track paths down his soft skin.

You suddenly feel flushed again, and this time not from your beverages of the night. Holding the sides of his face, you don't feel compelled to let go. In fact, you feel compelled to do quite the opposite: holding him a little tighter and leaning in. You can feel now the heat radiating from his skin, the soft puffs of his wine-sweetened breath on yours. It seems that your eyes flicker briefly from his eyes down to his lips, and back up to continue maintaining eye-contact with him. He nods slowly in response: a quiet and wordless conversation occurring between the two of you. You lean in further, but it's Rolan who closes the minute gap between the two of you. You can feel his hands come to rest atop your person: one cupping your jaw and another beginning to delicately explore your hair. You hum into his soft lips as his nails pleasantly and softly scratch at your scalp. His fangs nip at your bottom lip as he smiles into the kiss, making you giggle in the drunken state you forgot you were in. Upon your realization you pull away slightly to admire the tiefling before you.

You see an expression flit across his face. One that's rare to see on him, but one that you've nevertheless seen a few times this night. It's a face of uncertainty, briefly displaying all of Rolan's insecurities and hesitations in the center of his face. It's one of hope too, and longing: portraying Rolan's desperation for you to see him- truly see him- and to know him. For that moment, his confident façade fades away into the oblivion of his outward projections. You run the pad of your thumb under his eye, doing your best to calm his worries just by holding him softly.

"I..." he starts, appearing once again to be so uncharacteristically unsure of himself, "I have to say this because if I don't say it I will regret it."

You raise an inquisitive eyebrow, watching Rolan's eyes dart everywhere around the environment, consistently failing to meet your own. 

"I wanted to say," Rolan starts, taking a deep yet hesitant breath. "I wanted to thank you. For saving my people and for convincing me to stay. I would have regretted leaving, in time. So thank you."

You smile as sweetly as you can at him.

"I'm glad I could help you," you offer.

"And thank you for... this," he blushes though it's hard to see.

You can't help but smile once again, kissing the tip of his nose just to watch him flush.

-----

I hope this is well liked :) If enough people like it I'll maybe write a follow-up but it feels fitting to end here.

[healerelowen]

I’m so sorry but I had a few ideas, I’ll try my darndest not to swamp you but….

Scribes (or just g, your gonna discover a smidge of a trend) s/o being slowly corrupted by the old data

Hello Hello! Thank you for your request!

FRIEND SEND ME THE IDEAS!!! I love seeing them! Send them separately, of course, as I want to get to each of them if I can. But I’d love to hear them! So send them all my way and I’ll be sure to get to as many as I can! 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy and have a good rest of your day/night! 

 -Scrybes partner slowly getting corrupted with the Old_Data-

—

It would be more subtle at first, with you mostly seeing things out of the corner of your eye than anything else. As time goes on though, you begin seeing strange things as you dream next to your partner. Words from messages, photos of people and places you didn’t recognize, a black and white daus card, all of it being unusual but you didn’t think much of it. Rather you dismissed it with them all being odd dreams that would dissipate eventually. Which had led to your surprise when discussing your strange dreams with your partner, you were met with a concerned and alarmed gaze from them, not shifting as if there were bounds of thoughts running through their mind. 

Only when you asked them if they were alright did they snap out of it, but they clearly were still shaken with worry. They told you that they were, and that they were simply thinking about something. It was odd, but you simply accepted that for an answer and continued whatever task you were doing. The dreams and visions had only gotten worse, and you noticed your partner watching you with concern. Even their subordinates were starting to glance at you weird. What was frustrating was that when you pressed about it, it was usually dismissed with your partner giving you a small task to do in the meantime. They were keeping something from you, but they refused to say, so you stormed off to do the task they asked you to do.

---

Leshy

You were being corrupted. He could see it plain as day, and the realization pierced him like a sharp thorn in his stomach. Leshy knows you want the answers, why he’s been acting off, why he told his lackey’s to be wary of any odd behavior from you, but he can’t bring himself to do it. 

For he’s too caught up in his own self-loathing that he failed to protect you from the cursed code plaguing this world. Sometimes when he’s alone, he’ll wail with despair. You were the last person who deserved to see all those horrible things, to learn the truth about this game’s existence. Leshy knows you’re angry, but what else can he do? Besides ripping away your innocence that made your eyes twinkle, your smile warmer. 

He sits alone in his cabin, unsure of what to do. He hardly goes out to capture beasts anymore, earning the concern of his subordinates, who drop by his cabin every so often to see if he’s alright. All they’re met with is a concerned, lingering stare from him, one that shows the fear of realization. 

He contemplates telling you, as tempting as it is, but how can he? How could he possibly tell the one he loves about something that’s infecting them, that had infected him too, that he knew about its existence all along and never told you in fear of hurting you? Too much, all of it is too much to bear.

He tries to divert his focus, maybe he can prepare another game of cards for when you get back.. 

Grimora

..She should’ve seen this coming. It was going to happen eventually, and Grimora knew it. But it startled her with how unexpected it was, when it seemed everything was simply going as it normally would, as normal as this place could get. But of course it wasn’t that simple, and she feels foolish for thinking that. 

She doesn’t pry, but she does inquire about your strange visions every so often. It’s subtle, if infrequent, but it does give her a clearer idea of how far gone you are. Grimora does wish for things to be different, you of all people don’t deserve to go through something as horrific such as that. 

When you do talk about your visions, sometimes she’ll say that she saw something similar years back. She never goes into detail, but she does keep it vague enough for you two to half-heartedly make a connection. When she sees your blissfully unaware gaze as she speaks, it makes her cold heart ache. Why must this happen to you? 

Out of all the Scrybes, she doesn’t necessarily keep everything hidden away from you, but keeps certain elements that would be too daunting obscure when discussing it. So she’s certainly more willing to talk about it, but very vaguely.

Grimora is…uncertain if she should reveal the truth to you. Afterall, she’s been telling you white lies this whole time, and she isn’t sure if it’ll make the damage worse or not. You deserve to know, but should you know is the question.. 

Such thoughts trouble her as she simply inscribes another epitaph of a tombstone, making a fresh card. 

     P03

The bot freezes as you go into detail about your dreams, claw clutching a freshly printed card tightly. He doesn’t say anything, only trying to relax itself as it slowly places down the card. As P03 listens, he slowly nods along, work almost completely abandoned. 

He’ll press sometimes, with a usual, “Tell me more about that..” to pry a bit more information out of you. His odd behavior is noticeable and it does tell its workers about the possibility of you having more odd behaviors. But despite that, he doesn’t change a whole lot, aside from asking more questions from you than normal. He seems..cautious, wary of something that it refuses to talk about. 

In addition, P03 also seems to be cutting back on the usual teasing and banter, to the point where they’re few and far between. When you ask if he’s alright, it’ll tell you that it's fine, and will bring up something else to distract you. It’s not the most effective thing, but it’ll do to keep you oblivious for a little longer. 

Eventually, he fesses up. P03 sits you down for a long talk, and tells you what’s going on and what exactly your dreams and visions mean. Depending on how well you take it, he will try to console you about it, maybe wrapping an arm around you as it tries to comfort you. 

If there were a better way to go about this, he would take it. But..he can’t lie to you, it can’t keep the wool over your eyes forever. He had to tell you, as painful as it was. P03 lets you take your time to fully wrap your head around it, listens to you vent whenever it becomes worse, and tries its damn best to make sure that you feel safe around it and everyone else. 

P03 wishes for a way to prevent this from happening, but at the very least, you are aware of what’s happening and are trying to keep it from getting worse.       

Magnificus

Magnificus is absolutely mortified the moment he hears about your dreams and visions. The horror of the realization makes him openly shudder, and it takes him a good few moments to fully recollect himself, even some reassurance from you. He dismissed it with it being a vivid vision he had to spare your concern, but after that, he had been anxious nonstop. 

He can hardly look you in the eye anymore, fearful of seeing a glimpse of that cursed code infesting you so subtly you don’t even notice it. In his own subtlety, you can pick up on his nervous behavior by noticing how his hand shakes as he paints on a blank canvas. You try to ask him what’s wrong, but he’s defensive, even outright pushing you away so you can stop bothering him. 

He can’t tell you. The thought makes him shiver and his mouth dry with terror. He feels guilty for pushing you away, but he doesn’t know what else to do. What can he do? Just watch his beloved partner lose to the corrupted code? 

All of this fear, this paranoia surrounding it, he wishes for it all to just stop. It makes his body and mind ache, as he practically collapses onto the bed to rest every night. Magnificus is terrified for you, so scared of what will become of you. He tries to bring himself to push past his anxiety, to help you, tell you something, anything that will help you. But he can’t..he can’t bring himself to rasp a single word to you.

Trembling, he strokes his brush on a new canvas, trying to paint a better future for you and your wellbeing.

[fatuismooches]

so i was thinking back to that post about pantalone getting the receipt of all the things dottore buys for fragile!reader. imagine pantalone, columbina, and maybe signora making elaborate plans to find out why on earth is dottore buying romance novels and tcg cards. their plans get increasingly ridiculous and the segments find it funny to see some of the most powerful people in teyvat kneeling on the ground and huddled up together, only the tops of their heads visible from behind the windows(or counter) of the lab. and when reader finds them while they're on their daily walk reader is all oh hey there :D

YESSSSS ily anon!! You know Pantalone would definitely get the others in on this... he is SELLING this story to them and gathering as much backup as he can (namely Columbina... I also hc she likes to make fun of Dottore lol) You can bet they are reading those romance novels to tease Dottore about later on lol (bina def recommends you some though)

The clones are having a field day with this whole situation. They can't blame the Harbingers though, you are so interesting and lovely... who wouldn't want to know you? Well, clearly their creator has a huge problem with the rest of the Fatui even knowing about their existence. He is adamant about them not speaking to you. Probably a mixture of it'll be a headache for him to deal with them *cough endless questions and teasing* and he's unsure if it'll cause stress to your health.

Dottore's lab is hella huge so on days you feel like being alone, you tend to go a good distance away from the center. So one day you see a few figures in the lab that you can't recognize you immediately get a bit on guard... and then you realize those are Dottore's co-workers, as he calls them. You sometimes caught a glimpse of them from far away, and Dottore always looked like was at this wit's end with them. Understandably you are rather excited to have some interaction with anyone that's not Dottore... and the Harbingers are just like 🧍‍♀️ when you start prattling on with them so causally

The funny part is that a while ago I began working on a fic with this same concept, called "The Doctor's Beloved" and I can say I have a lot of brainrot from it😭

Snippets from the fic:

The Fatui Harbingers were gathered together for a very important meeting. At least, that was what the ones who had bothered to come thought. Instead, they were greeted with that familiar, infuriating smile of the Ninth Harbinger.

“I, Pantalone, call this Fatui meeting to order.”

--

Columbina spoke up, draped over Arlecchino’s shoulder. “Ah~, I’ve seen them before. But I can never get a good glimpse of their face… they always cover their face with a veil, just like how the doctor never takes his mask off. I wonder how they look…”

“Dottore’s actually spending research funds on this [Name]?” Childe gaped. “That crazy guy hardly ever thinks about anything else besides his beloved research.”

“Perhaps there is a person who shares that spot with him,” a new voice joined the conversation. Pulcinella had now entered the room.

--

“I mean what I said.”

“So you’re saying that…” one voice began.

“This [Name] person…” another continued.

“Is Dottore’s lover?!” an exclamation echoed from a few throughout the room.

[hisonlykiwi]

falling apart

your relationship with nanami had felt rocky these past few weeks.

wc: 950 (really short but damn did I cry a little writing this)

warnings: none, just nanami being kind of mean.

a/n: please let me know you think in the comments!! <3

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

You sat on the opposite side of the couch, across from Nanami. He hadn’t said a word to you since he came home late from work, matter of fact, maybe a few days since he last spoke to you. It’s been like this for weeks now, Nanami constantly ignoring you. He has been so angry lately, you tried to not let it get to you but you’ve been dating nearly three years now, something was up. 

You glance over at his direction, he’s reading a book, you know you shouldn’t bother him but the itch of wanting to ask him what’s wrong gets stronger with every passing day. After a few moments, you build up the courage to say “Nanami?” in a gentle voice, careful not to be too loud and startle him.

“What is it?” He signed, putting his book down and looking over in your direction with an annoyed look in his face. You gulped down the lump forming in your throat, “Is everything okay?” You asked, looking over at him. 

Having his eyes on you, finally, it’s felt like weeks since he even bothered to look at you. “Everything is fine.” He replied but there was something off in the way he said it, something betraying the lie that came out of his mouth. 

You looked away, unsure of what to say next, he already seems frustrated at you but you don’t understand why and it’s making you angry that he is acting like this. “Did I do something?” You ask, unable to look in his general direction. It was quiet for a few moments “...No.” His tone became agitated and thick with frustration, “Why does it have to take for something to be wrong for you to ask how I'm doing?" You look over at him with confusion in your features. The confused look on your face seemed to set him off further, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, clearly confused, you always check up on him, make sure he is okay, you don’t know where this frustration is coming from. His voice interrupts your thoughts "I mean, you only ever seem to ask me how I'm doing when there are clear signs of something going on. Why can't you just ask how I'm doing like a normal person? Why wait until everything falls apart?" 

You get up from the couch in disbelief at his tone and his words, the confusion being laced with anger. Seeming to know the answer already, you dare to ask “What exactly has fallen apart, Nanami?” He scoffed and repeated back the words to you in a mimicking tone. 

“This relationship, what else?! Did you think I didn't know why you were so upset this entire evening?” He got up from the couch and walked towards you with a scowl on his face. Tears brimming in your eyes, “This relationship feels like it's falling apart because you hardly ever acknowledge my existence or hardly ever speak to me, I don’t know how to talk to you without getting mad at me. And now you’re throwing your behavior back in my face saying I don’t care about you?” You flail your arms up in disbelief, letting a tear run down your cheek. 

He clenched his jaw tightly, trying even harder to keep his anger in check. However, he failed. “You have to understand. Do you have any clue how draining and stressful my job is? How exhausting it is, not only on my body but on my mental health? I barely have enough willpower to keep going and when I come home, all I want is some time for myself. But instead, you act like a spoiled child begging for attention!” Unsure of what to say, you take a step back, hugging yourself trying to find some comfort with his voice repeating over and over in your head. 

A few tears involuntarily falling down your cheeks. He saw the tears in your eyes and let the scowl on his face soften only a bit. It had become hard for him to hide the pain and exhaustion in his voice. "It just isn't easy for me, you know? After working a long hard day all I want is some peace and quiet. Yet you pester me for my attention as if I don't have enough to deal with as it is. I'm exhausted and I just want to rest...." You look at the floor with an expressionless face, words failing you. 

How long has he felt this way? Has he always felt like this? Why has he been with you so long then if he had thought you were just some nagging woman begging for an ounce of his attention. You look over at him, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “How about I do you one last favor, Nanami?” You took a deep, shaky breath, “We’re done.” 

He looked down at you, expression unchanged. He didn't look surprised one bit. He remained standing there in silence for a few seconds before responding. "Alright. Fine. Leave. I don’t have time for this." You sucked in a breath, trying to not cry more and further humiliate yourself. You didn’t recognize the man standing in front of you, that job of his had changed him so much over the past three years. Nanami turned back to the couch and sat back down. He picked up his book again, resuming where he left off.

It was like you didn't even exist to him at that point. It was hard to see the man you loved turn into an apathetic shell of who he was.