#wanted to jot down some faces i wanted of him <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[two-white-butterflies]

sucked into a bagel

Description: A corporate attorney's life is forever changed by a chance encounter with an actress, who happens to be a former classmate. A mismatched bagel order leads to romance.

Pairing: harvey specter/actress!reader (mentioned!carlos sainz)

A/N: writing style is a bit experimental. reader has a screen name because i hate using y/n l/n. suits but in 2024 because i do not want to adjust to the past.

THERESÈ MARQUINA IS BACK – IS SHE OVER THE BREAKUP?

Theresè Marquina was in a 3-year relationship with Spanish F1 Racer, Carlos Sainz, before they separated July this year. Their breakup was followed by an announced hiatus by the actress. Now, she's making her way out of the woodworks.

Has she finally moved on?

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CLICK HERE FOR MORE ARTICLES RELATED TO 'THERESÈ'

WHO IS CARLOS SAINZ?

THERESÈ MARQUINA AND CARLOS SAINZ IN GOOD TERMS AFTER THE BREAKUP

WHO IS REBECCA DONALDSON?

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New York has always been close to your heart; the uninviting atmosphere, the people that walked past and refused to look back. A hoodie and some sunglasses were the only things needed to remain unknown. "One bagel cream cheese filling, please." You smiled.

This was your favorite bagel place, the cart always found itself standing in front of a corporate building – how wonderful it must be for these employees to eat yummy bagels after a long day of work. "You want any juice with that?" Nathan asks while jotting down your order. "Are you serious?" You scoff and he responds with a chuckle.

"Wait on the side," he says methodically.

You placed your hands in of your pockets, warming your palms against the coldness that surrounded you. After spending the majority of your developmental years in tropical countries, your body has refused to acclimate to the american weather.

Thus, leading to this feeling of coldness.

I hope that Nathan makes my order faster, you thought, not willing to wait another minute outside.

"The regular," a male voice says. You lift your gaze, locking eyes with the man standing in front of you. He has beautiful blonde hair (a weird hairstyle), a manly physique - and he was obviously sharper than the younger chaps standing around you. He was wearing a custom-made suit - silk blend...and he was staring at you.

You looked away.

I hope he didn't recognize me. Of course he wouldn't. I've got to stop being such a narc, you fought with your inner demons.

He was standing beside you at this point. You turned to look at him again, and fuck. He was still staring at you. "Is there something on my face?" Your eyebrows merged together. He shakes his head.

"Y/N L/N." He says your real name.

The way that he uttered your name, the intonation of his voice... "Harvey Specter." You answered with a smile on your face. An old friend – although, you couldn't quite call him a friend. He was someone that you relied on back during your days in Harvard, but then again, you only spent a year in that university. "I can't believe that you already forgot about me," Harvey cracks a smile.

"No, I didn't forget about you. You just look different." Your eyes narrowed. You've never seen him wear this sharp of a suit before. On his first day on campus, he wore this outrageous suit with a skinny tie, and you proceeded to call him 'skinny tie' the entire year. "And you haven't aged a day," he flirts – his charisma untested by time.

"Some things never change, eh." Your smile deepens. "- matter of fact, I thought that you were the one who forgot about me. You didn't return any of my letters, and you didn't accept my myspace request." You confronted him, a bit of your heart wondering why he didn't reach out.

"I've been busy," he informs. "- remember Jessica? I'm working for her now, Junior Partner, Pearson Hardman." He says.

Being a lawyer was the only thing that he wanted in this life. Harvey liked the smell of blood in the water. It made you happy to see him where he wanted to be. "Congratulations. That sounds amazing Harvs!" You placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Bagel for Teresa!" Nathan says your name wrong again. "I'll see you in another day. By the way! This is my phone number, call me." You winked while walking up to the counter to retrieve your order.

He waves goodbye at you, while pocketing the call card.

Harvey holds the warm bagel in his left hand, while playing with the call card on his left.

THERESÈ MARQUINA +XXXXXXXXXX William Morris Entertainment

He remembers the first day that he met you. Both of you were running late for Professor Gerard's class, no doubt, sweating balls; because the professor's name has only been uttered around campus in hushed whispers. He was renowned for not giving A's, and being cruel when it came to his grading system.

He was someone that you couldn't risk offend. He was quite particular about tardiness. You smiled at him, walked hand-in-hand through those intimidating doors - swallowed the sermon beside him, and he found himself having a slight crush on you.

It was rare to see a beautiful, kind, and smart person. God normally grants a person one of those three things, but seldom all. You gave him all of your notes, helped him through torts and explaining all the labor laws in New York. Just when he was about to confess his feelings, you suddenly told him that you were shifting to another school. Juilliard to Major in Fine Arts.

You were moving to New York. He was in Cambridge. It wasn't going to work so he held his tongue. He let you slip away, and after graduation he figured that what he felt for you was nothing but the caprice of his youth. He's all but forgotten about you, until today.

"When are you going to eat that bagel, Harvey?" He hears Donna's voice through the small intercom. "Have long have you been watching me?" He asks a question. He sees Donna roll her eyes through the glass window. "Give her a call. I'm sure she'll pick up." Donna makes another smart guess.

Donna knows everything.

"Do you even know who she is?" Harvey raises an eyebrow. If Donna finds out, then she'll totally freak out. After all, she was the one that told him to watch Pretty Woman.

"Boy loves girl. Girl gives boy her number. What more should I know?" Donna shrugs. "If you say so..." Harvey switches off the intercom.

You slowly unraveled the foil away from your bagel. "Finally," you breathed while taking a long awaited bite. "What the fuck," you groaned realizing that there was no filling inside your bagel. It's basically a bread at this point! Why eat a bagel if it's going to taste like absolute nothing.

"Fuck, maybe Harvey got my order." You placed the bagel down. Slowly, reaching for your phone inside your left pocket. "Damn, I should have asked for his number." You tell yourself.

Suddenly, your phone starts ringing. It was an unknown number.

"Hello, this better be Harvey." You pick up.

He responds with an amused chuckle.

"Nope, I found this number on a bathroom wall." He teased. "Ha ha, very funny." You scoffed. Your eyes suddenly landing on that boring excuse of a bagel with no fillings. "- have you eaten your bagel yet?" You asked. Was it too late for a switch? Yes, I've already taken a bite.

"Nope, I'm about to." He says.

"I think we messed up our orders. I got this boring excuse of a bagel with no fillings." You played with the sesame seeds on top of the bread. "Oh are you insulting my order?" He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, there's no cream cheese or peanut butter or banana in here. Respectfully, this is worst than wheat bread." You groaned.

"I'm sorry that my order is ... vanilla. Not everyone is like you." He jested in return, earning a slight giggle from you.

"Why did you call, by the way?" You inquired.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go and eat dinner with me. We have a lot of catching up to do, only if a few hours is enough to cover all that's happened in ten years?" His eyebrows merged together. He was beginning to sound like Harvey from before - the one that strived to be the best version of himself, before the reality of this world was made evidently clear.

"If it's not enough, we can always schedule a part two." You hummed.

"Where will we meet?" You asked, looking at your empty schedule.

"Send me your address, and I'll send my driver."

"I'll send my driver, okay fancy pants."

You take a deep breath, staring at your reflection through the mirror.

Is it a date?

"Fuck," you cursed while combing through your hair.

Harvey is just a friend. An old friend rediscovered in a world filled of people who wanted to use you for their own benefit. In a fast paced world, it is easy to let go of relationships – to be numb when it comes to abandonment because everyone always moves forward, or back.

You slip on the Alaïa dress that you bought years prior. Harvey didn't specify if the restaurant that you were going to was casual or formal, therefore you chose a dress that was carefully sitting in the middle. If it was a casual affair then you'd slip in a black YSL jacket. If it was formal then you'd put on the earrings that were carefully hiding in your bag's pockets.

You could only hope that the paparazzi wouldn't be snapping pics.

"Thank you for inviting me to dinner." You pressed a kiss to his cheek, inhaling his scent of expensive cologne. "- it's been a tough year," you added while settling on the couch in front of him.

Everyone was dressed to the nines; and it seemed to you that Harvey was permanently attached to his suits. "I've not been updated. I'm sorry." He handed you the special menu while taking sip of wine. "- but I did watch that film of yours. My secretary recommended it." He informed with a smile on his face.

"Which one? Don't tell me it was First Daughter." Your eyebrows merged together. That movie was particularly difficult to film. "No, it as Pretty Woman. I might say, Richard Gere is a fine man." His eyes narrowed and a small laugh escapes your mouth.

You continued talking after that - the waiter delivered your meals. You both had pasta. A dish that you bonded with Harvey in the first year. He has never been blessed with skill in cooking, so you always popped up in his condo (that Jessica paid for) to make meals.

As the laughter died down, you took a deep breath.

"For what it's worth. I made the right choice choosing Juilliard, but gods did I miss our friendship." You confessed. "- it wasn't the same. I did make some friends but we were all in over our head trying to impress the next producer, the next director, the next casting agent. It was physically exhausting that I began to miss the mental exhaustion of studying law." You chuckled, taking a bite of your pasta.

"You never did tell me the reason why you left - or why you chose to be an actress instead of being a lawyer." Harvey says.

"I told you that it was my dream to become a lawyer, but along the lines I realized that it wasn't really what I wanted. I was just doing what my parents were telling me to do." You paused.

"How did you tell your father that?" He chuckles, aware of your father's strict demeanor. "I told him that it didn't matter if I was going to live in a smaller house, with a smaller car, and a simpler life. I wanted to do something that made me happy. It didn't matter if I had to scrape my knees trying to make it movie to movie. I just wanted to be able to film." You continued.

"- thanks to my parents support, I'm fucking famous." You added.

Harvey's eyes drift to the figure behind you.

You turned to look, and it was a man with his phone out. Recording. "Oh, it happens." Your face suddenly turns stoic. Aware that someone was watching - and that you needed to act appropriately. "I can't believe this shit is legal in our country," Harvey rolls his eyes.

"Sometimes, I just want to go and break their phones." You whispered.

"Destruction of Property." Harvey smirks. "- I'd like to add assault to that list." He says, standing up and walking towards the man.

"I've done that before, actually." You smile.

"Wanna do it again?" He offered.

theresèmarquina: Thank you for the wonderful dinner & for getting that man to delete his 'paparazzi' pictures of me. I didn't look good in that angle. You are 100% NYC's best closer @harveyspecterlaw

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DonnaPaulsen: @harveyspecterlaw

Donna places the stack of files on Harvey's desk loudly. He raises an eyebrow, noticing her annoyed demeanor. "I found out through social media. I can't believe that you didn't tell me!" Donna raises her voice. It was the first time in a very long time that Donna lost her cool.

"You didn't ask," Harvey shrugs, signing a few contracts.

"Theresè Marquina is literally every woman's favorite actress. Pretty Woman, First Daughter, Noting Hill! She's literally who I want to be when I grow up." Donna paced back and forth.

How was it possible that this flew under her radar? She was Donna for god's sake. She knows everything. "I didn't think that it was that serious." Harvey pretended to be unbothered. "How did you even manage to date her?" Donna suddenly asks.

Harvey's face relaxes, then tenses up.

"I'm not dating her." Harvey groaned. "Why the hell are you not?" Donna looked behooved. "- because we are just friends, Donna." Harvey cleared up, while placing some of the files inside the drawers.

"Wait a minute," Donna takes a deep breath. Everything was starting to make sense. "She's the girl from Harvard." She accuses. Harvey frowns. "How the hell do you know about that?" He queries.

"When we were still working in the DA. I got you drunk - and you couldn't stop talking about this girl who left you in Harvard. You kept rambling on and on about how you were in love with her." Donna remembers. Of course, she remembers everything.

"Donna, get the hell out of my office." Harvey groans.

"I'm not telling you to go out there and tell her that you love her, or loved her. I just want to say that yesterday, while you were talking to her - I saw the real Harvey." She informs, walking out of his office before he can say another thing about her getting out.

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[m4y4wasnthere]

i’m not pretending

dallas x f!reader ; fake dating scenario

fic request here

warnings: cursing, oral giving, degradation, praise, hair pulling ; smut with plot!

a/n: this is a wayyy longer fic than my other ones so um, be prepared. this one also is a bit more ooc dallas 😭

summary: your obsessive ex is getting super unbearable to the point you go to Dallas Winston for help. A fake dating scenario long enough to make your ex lose interest in you, along with a few rules, one of which says no catching feelings. this never works out well 😒

“look, I know we aren’t the best of friends but please! it won’t be awhile, maybe just a month or two, he keeps following me everywhere!”

You were following Dallas along the sidewalk begging him to agree to fake a relationship with you. You two were definitely not close at any means but he was your best bet at getting some kind of privacy from your obsessive ex.

“christ’s sake, fine! now stop being so annoyin’ and followin’ me around, go back home or wherever man,” he stated while abruptly stopping. You bumped into him and he gave you a cold glare over his shoulder. You got the hint and backed away.

“meet me at the Dingo tomorrow, we can discuss more about it.” You walked back home content with yourself with convincing him, but you had no idea how far this plan would go.

✰ ✰ ✰

“okay lets make a list of rules. uh, for number one, no kissing,” you got out a piece of paper and started to scribble down.

“a list? Who do you think I am?” Dallas fiddles with a small jumble of some garbage wrap from a straw. He doesn’t look at you but his eyebrows are furrowed while trying to make a paper ring out of it.

“yes, a list.” You shoot him a glare, he doesn’t bother to see. “maybe if you made lists, you wouldn’t always be losing your wallet,” you muttured under your breath.

“no kissing? look, I’m not lookin’ forward to this but I’m smart enough to know that nobody is gonna buy this if we don’t kiss.” Dallas snatched the pencil away from you and tried to erase the rule.

“i’m not wasting my first kiss on you.” Dallas paused and you were expecting a snarky remark but he just sighed.

“no kissing, on the lips, how ‘bout that?” He jotted down on the paper. You nodded in slight appreciation, he gave the pencil back to you and the two of you spent the rest of the hour going back and forth making up rules.

Your list came out to be this:

1. no kissing on the lips

2. no flirting/hooking up with other people

3. we each have to give each other something to show our relationship is real

4. weekly dates

5. stop only in private

6. pet names are needed

7. dont tell anyone

8. no catching feelings

the two of you didn’t have strict boundaries other than the last one. neither of you thought it would be hard rule to follow, your mutual dislike made it all really easy.

you guys agreed on starting this ‘contract’ tomorrow.

✰ ✰ ✰

its been 2 months since this fake dating agreement started. you found that Dallas wasnt as insufferable as you originally thought. he was funny with his wit commentary, his sarcasm, his carelessness about everything, you admired him in a way.

he was also beautiful, you noticed it before but never wanted to admit it. his dark hair complimented his sharp features but his eyes were soft in contrast.

your heart fluttered everytime he called you doll, his gal, even your name sounded like foreign music when it rolled off his tounge.

what was happening? Suddenly every-time you guys went on dates, you wished they could be more private, you wished he would hold your hand a bit longer, you wished his eyes would linger on yours and always trace your face, you wished he liked you.

you had a crush on Dallas Winston.

every second longer you stayed with him, you broke the rules of the “contract” more.

what were you supposed to do? suddenly everytime you guys were out, your acting became more snd more believable because you weren’t acting anymore. well, you wish it wasn’t acting for both of you.

you found yourself spaced out more often, lost in daydreams about your fake boyfriend, thinking about how he would react if he knew, how he would embrace you and tell you he felt the sam-

“doll? are ya okay? you’ve been looking at my arm for awhile.”

je snapped you back to reality. arms on the table, elbows planted, playing with a ring of his and twirling it on his finger.

“sorry I was just thinking.” you looked down at your untouched plate of food and starting grabbing some fries to eat.

“you ’re thinking a lot more often, i don’t know if I really like it. can’t get enough attention from you nowadays.”

he looked at you through his lashes with those gorgeous eyes. your stomach flipped and you almost dropped a fry.

“what if I’m thinking about you?” you said blunty, you tried to let out a small laugh to cover up your honest statement.

dallas stopped playing with his ring, it fell flat on the table with a quiet clunk. his eyes pierced through yours, your stomach churning with the realization of what you just said.

your face flushed with heat, ears burning, your eyes flickered to the floor. the diner felt as if it was closing in around you, it was too much to handle. you got up stiffly and grabbed your bag.

dallas was stuck sitting his chair, he was just staring at you. why wasnt he saying anything?

gosh how could i be so stupid and just say that???

you quickly walked towards the exit of the diner, passing by familiar faces. the sounds of your soles were followed by thumps. is he following me?

you quickened your pace and pushed the door open. your house was maybe a 3 minute bike ride away, about 5-10 minutes walking distance. of course you walked here with dallas so there was no way you couldnt make it home fast enough to your liking.

you spotted a black cruiser bike laying on the sidewalk. its been there for a few days, so there wasnt much worry for it having an owner.

you quickly hopped on it and starting biking up the sidewalk.

you heard faint steps catching up to you.

“doll, where are you going? c’mon lets talk about this !” dallas’ yelling slowly got muffled as you got farther away.

you couldnt help but tear up a bit as you finally stopped hearing his voice. i feel so stupid, i didnt think before i spoke. i wasnt supposed to say that.

✰ ✰ ✰

its been 2 weeks since your stupid accident confession to dallas.

you’ve been avoiding him at all costs, if you ever saw him at the same place, you left immediately.

he constantly tries calling your home phone, but you never pick up. too scared to hear what he has to say. until today.

you heard a knock on your front door. your house wasnt anything special, in a bit better shape than the curtis household but not so different in size or layout. your parents pay it off but they’re rarely home, their jobs always keep them occupied.

you were tired, you were having breakdowns throughout the weeks over dallas. you were too scared to talk to him, afraid of the chance of rejection.

you didnt really care for your appearence most of the week since you stayed home. you were wearing a cozy beige sweater and some black shorts.

you groggily made your way to the front door, about to turn the knob when the knocking became insistent.

“im opening up, god, just wait a bit !” you yelled annoyingly. the locks came undone and the door got swung open.

“hey.” dallas stood there infront of you. you stood stunned for a few moments before speaking.

“go back home dallas. im not in the mood to talk.” you went to close the door, when his hand stopped you. pushing it was no help, he held it open with no struggle.

“no shit, ive been trying to call you all week.” he walked past you into the living room. he stood, analyzing your home with tired eyes. he laid down on your couch, stretched out.

“sit with me.” he gestured next to him. you hesitantly walked over but sat on the far end of the couch to his dismay. he frowned alittle before speaking up again.

“c’mon doll talk to me. i havent seen you in weeks, ‘missed you.” he muttered the last part under his breath. you shifted uncomfortably and grabbed a nearby blanket to cover yourself with.

even now he was unbelievably hot. you hated yourself for even noticing. his hair was noticeably messy and his eyes had slight bags under them. his black tank top always hugged him in the right places

you looked away.

“talk about what dal? i dont know why your here. you should just go hom-“

“your avoiding me and i dont know what i did. okay?” he stands up, “the last time i saw you, you just drove off on whoevers damn bike that was. ’ve been calling you for a week straight and no answer.” his hands wave through the air as he talks before he plops back down and rests his head in his hands.

“look ‘m sorry if apparently its so bad that im worried about my girlfriend.” he leans back on the couch, breathless.

“fake girlfriend.” you muttered sharply under your breath. your crossed your arms, staring at the floor.

“is that what this is about?” he looks at you with a sharp turn, “god, baby, i dont care about what you said last week. it didnt bother me at all.”

“thats the thing. it didnt !” you took the blanket off and started pacing infront of him, “you dont care that i basically just said i liked you. it doesnt mean anything to you.” you were getting yourself worked up with each word you said, your eyes starting to get blurry with tears, “this stupid fake relationship and these stupid rules and i broke one of the most important ones, and you dont seem to be affected at all!” you crossed your arms and stared at him, unaware of the tears starting to stain your cheeks.

“doll i never said-“ dallas stands up and tries to approach you, but you pull away.

“dont try and lie, its not gonna make me feel better. just go dal, go.”

he ignores your statement and pulls you into his chest. you try and push him away but he doesnt let you go.

he lets out a low chuckle.

“you think this is funny? what is wrong with you !” he holds you tightly against him.

“no doll i swear ‘m not laughing at you. its just-“ he smiles lightly as he struggles to gather his words.

“i never said it didn’t effect me. god baby, if you just answered the phone. you’d know that i didn’t mind,” he stops hugging you so you can look at him,

“i wasn’t pretending. ‘nd i love you too or whatever. dont make me say it again.”

you stare at him dumbfounded.

“what?” you stop struggling against his grip and just try and process what hes saying.

“are we okay now? can you stop avoiding me?” he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he holds your face in his hands.

“yes..” you say hesitantly. what do i do now? does that mean we’re dating? fuck.

he leans in so he can whisper in your ear,

“does this mean i can kiss you?”

you shakily nod and he pulls you in from your waist, his head tilts to the side and he hesitates before his lips reach yours.

your body was trembling from the slight affection. his lips were warm and soft, so different from his personality.

he put his hand behind your head to pull you into him more, making the kiss deeper. his other hand danced along your spine, until deciding to rest on your face.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him stumble a bit backwards before grabbing hold of the couch.

he pulled away for a breath before sitting down and pulling you forward to straddle him. his eyes traced your face. his gaze pierced your eyes, down to your mouth.

“my pretty girl” he mumbled before taking your lips again.

this time is was more forceful, more passionate. he grabbed at you thighs and had his hands travel all over your body. you helped him take his jacket off and threw it to the side.

he let his tongue into your mouth, making you moan into him.

he sucked on your tongue, he let his toungue slide across your teeth. he was hungry for you, he wanted more.

“take your sweater off f’me baby. let me see those pretty tits.”

he helped your sweater above your arms and over your head. your tits slightly bounced with the motion.

“no bra? fuck, your gonna be the death of me doll.”

he immediately ducked down to suck on your breast. he flicked his tongue around your nipple. you squirmed underneath him, breathy moans escaping your lips. his hands cupped your breasts, he swirled his finger around your other nipple and pinched it.

his lips de attached themselves from your tit with a pop. he licked his lips and gazed at you with a grin before returning to leaving sloppy kisses all over your chest.

“you like watching me lick all over your tits doll? ‘m making you feel good?”

you moaned quietly in response. “use your fucking words baby.” he bit some of your plush skin. “mph ! yes dal i like it.. please don’t stop” your skin flushed with embarrassment as he smirked at your obedience.

“so good f’me baby.” he lifted his head to look at you, admiring the hickeys that covered your now sore breasts.

dal took his shirt off, revealing his slighty sweaty toned body. you couldnt help but stare, you traced his faint ab lines. he watched you intently. you leaned down and licked up his abs.

“fuck doll… didn’t know you were like that. do it again.”

so of course, you did it again, this time dallas fumbled with his belt and reached down his pants. he stroked himself as he watched you lick up his chest.

“can i do it for you?”

dallas grinned and lifted you up so you were standing infront of him. he carefully stood up so he could take his pants and boxers off fully.

“sit back down baby.”

you sat in his place as you watched him slowly get out of his boxers. shit. hes big. hes the right amount inbetween thick and long.

you couldnt help but drool at the sight of him. naked and sweaty, dick right infront of your face, twitching for you.

“yea ‘m fucking big. you sure you can take this baby? not gonna be too much for you?” he smirked and said in a mocking tone.

you didnt say anything, instead you put your hands on his dick and slowly started to jerk him off.

he let out low grunts before you opened your mouth and licked the precum off his tip.

“fuck… baby, suck my cock like a good girl already.”

you obliged. you slowly opened your mouth to let more of him in, sucking and swirling around his twitching cock.

he got inpatient and grabbed a fistful of your hair and started bobbing your head up and down. tears swelled in your eyes at how big and full his cock was.

“yea doll, cry for this dick. make me want to fuck you sore.” dallas loved watching you at his mercy. he heard your gasps for air and felt the spit that piled each time you took him in fully. hearing him degrade you like this made you so wet. you couldnt help but sneak a finger down your shorts to relive yourself.

your other hand crept up his thigh and behind his ballsack. you pressed into a very special spot that you knew well.

“wait, fuck, you can’t just-“

his cock twitched in your mouth, precum oozing down your chin. his grunts became low moans of approval as you kept rubbing at his g-spot. you started to rub your clit at a steady pace.

“keep going baby. ‘m gonna come, dont swallow it.”

after a few more swishes of your tongue, you felt his cock pulsate and release white loads in your mouth. it almost made you gag with how deep he was.

“fuck baby. stick your tongue out.”

you looked up at him and stuck your tongue out. it was full of creamy white cum, and it was all his. the thought of it made you squirm and touch yourself even more. your legs squeezed together as you swallowed.

he suddenly took your hand and dragged you to your bedroom, when he forcefully pushed you against your desk.

“dal-“

“cant even wait for me huh pretty girl? had to start touching yourself at the thought of me.” he tore your shorts off with ease. “so fucking wet just by sucking my dick, your panties are soaked.” he rubbed your clit through the thin fabric.

“please dal i want you inside me. please baby, i just got too excited, i needed to touch myself.” your ass was pressed against his legs and your back was arched as you had your head turned to look at him.

“beg f’me some more. i want to know how bad you want this” he hit his hard cock against your covered pussy. you whined underneath him, moving your hips back and forth to get just the tiniest ounce of friction.

“please dal i’ll do anything, i want your cock so bad. im so wet for you.. i wont touch myself without permission again, just please put it in, please please please..” you continued to whimper under his touch and grind on him.

without warning he held the fabric to the slide and slipped 2 fingers into your needy hole.

“such a needy fucking doll.” he pumped his fingers in and out, coating them in your arousal. “just imagine how good my cock will feel,” he takes his fingers out, “pumping in and out of you.” then pushes them back in.

breathless moans escaped your lips as you felt your insides clench around him. you arched your back and your hands struggled to find something to grab on.

he curled his fingers as he pumped them in out, making you jolt in response.

“dally-“ you were cut off by his thumb reaching to your clit, rubbing small circles.

“oh, dal..” you let your upper half rest ontop of the desk. dallas continued rubbing your clit and pumping his fingers in your pussy, you started to feel a build up in your core.

you moved your hips in contradiction with his fingers, making each thrust even deeper.

“dal ‘m gonna come, keep going please.”

you felt yourself twitch as the knot you felt in your core break and your pussy pulsated around dallas’ fingers.

your body fell up and down panting from the orgasm, dallas took his fingers out and pulled your hair so you were pressed up against him.

you turned your head slightly behind you to view his face, to your surprise, he put his fingers in his mouth. licking your cum off his fingertips.

“you taste so good, y’know that doll?”

you watched as his tongue glided across his digits, fingers glistened with saliva and your own arousal. it made your pussy crave for more.

he pushed you back down on the desk and lifted your ass up in one swift motion.

“ngh ! dal be more-“

the tip of his dick slid into you and he forced his whole cock inside.

“shit. you’re tight..”

you let out an unexpected moan as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you. his thick cock stretching your insides.

“oh yea.. dallas.. i love you”

you moaned nonsense as he fucked you senseless. he found a steady but quick rhythm to stick too.

dallas leaned down fully, his sweaty chest against your back, grinning ear to ear, “you what? couldn’t hear you baby.”, he whispered. he slid out and rubbed your clit with the tip of his precum covered cock.

you whimpered and tried to grind against him, but it wasn’t the same as feeling him fill you up.

he held your arms behind your back, “ah ah doll, tell me what you said. i wanna hear it.” you struggled to find friction against him.

“i said i love you dal. i love you so much, please put it in again. i need your thick cock in me.. please..”

with a delighted chuckle, dallas shoved his cock back into you, your eyes rolled back as he slammed into you harder than before.

with each thrust, you felt your core tighten again, you clenched your pussy feel him more.

dallas felt what you were doing, he reached under you and put a thumb on your clit, rubbing slowly.

the knot in your stomach was becoming hard to suppress, dallas’ unfiltered moans didnt help.

his thrusts started to get sloppy and staggered, his cock twitched inside of you everytime you clenched down.

“dally ‘m gonna come, come with me?”

he smacked your ass in response, making you arch your back even further.

“yes doll, ‘m gonna come now. let me fill that sweet little pussy up.”

with a few more struggled thrusts, you felt him shoot his warm load inside of you. you released your 2nd orgasm, sending euphoria up to your brain. he continued to sloppily thrust before pulling out slowly.

he watched as cum dripped from your pulsing hole, he dragged his fingers up and pushed all of the white substance back in.

“so pretty when your all sweaty and ruined by me. you agree baby?”

all you could do was tiredly nod and make an incomprehensible noise. your head lay on the desk, drool leaving your mouth. you couldnt think at all.

✰ ✰ ✰

you woke up in a tight warm blanket. you barely remembered the night before, but when you tried to move, you realized that there was no blanket.

it was dallas.

“dal?”

dallas grunted in response.

“you stayed?”

he shifted his position until you were able to look up at him.

“f’course i stayed.”

you stayed silent, looking at his shut eyes.

“so..are we…?”

dallas groggily opened his eyes to look at you.

“what do you think doll. you think i stay with just anyone until morning?”

he planted a kiss on your forehead, before drifting back to sleep.

you knew he wasnt good with words, but that kiss was just enough.

✰ ✰ ✰

[amjustagirl]

Chapter 1

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader

genre: romance, angst

wc: 4k

summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.

chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5

Once a month, Hoshina Soshiro drops by your apartment for tea with you. 

It isn’t often that you both get the same day off. Him, with his vice captain duties that never end because Kaijus don’t deign to give him a break, as he often complains. You, spending hours if not days buried in the blade forgery at Izumo tech so much so your parents remark dryly that they’ve forgotten your face. But every so often, the universe smiles upon you and you get to spend an afternoon sitting on your narrow balcony with your oldest friend. 

It always begins like this.

He drops a plastic bag full of fizzy drinks on the table that only he drinks, whilst you brew a pot of tea. There’s dessert in the fridge that you get to feed his sweet tooth, and he’ll consume both because you’ll claim you have no appetite. After a few perfunctory questions about your wellbeing - the same as always, nothing’s changed, he’ll turn his mind to the sole focus in his life. 

“You gave the latest tech to my brother?!” he yells, outraged. “His main weapon isn’t even a blade.” 

“Orders are orders”, you respond. “Besides, didn’t I just tweak your katanas last month?” 

“About that”, he grins at you, somewhat sheepishly. “I’ve got more ideas -” 

“Not again”, you groan. 

He’ll rattle off a long list of things he wants you to work on next month. Blades made out of some kaiju bone, just to test its mettle. A blade to be worked into his boots - an idea he cheekily admits stems from some stupid shounen manga he reads in his spare time. So many of his ideas belong in the trash bin, but you entertain him anyway, studiously jotting down each of his requests. 

“You’re lucky I put up with you”, you tell him. 

Lazily, he flops onto the floor, rolling to lie his head in your lap. “As if you wouldn’t”, he laughs, poking up at your cheek. 

You don’t get the chance to answer him. His phone goes off, as it always does, and he has to go. 

“Seeya next time”, he waves, without leaving you another glance. The sliver of sky between the buildings surrounding yours is dark when you get up from your seat to clear the cups. 

Your cheek still stings. 

Your family always had close ties to the Hoshina clan. The clan of swordsmiths sworn to the Hoshina clan of swordsmen. A tie that can be traced centuries back to the Edo period to today. Your father crafted his father’s blades in the fires of your family’s forge, yet another in your family’s lineage who were born to serve the generations of Hoshina swordsmen. 

Even though you were born a girl, you never accepted that it should be different for you.

You were only seven when you accompanied your father on a delivery to the Hoshina estate. Your stockinged feet echo in the wooden corridors that stretch out before you, seemingly without end. There are portraits of imposing swordsmen in every other room, blades displayed, their former owners’ eventual fate captioned beneath. You are too ashamed to admit that you’re afraid of one such painting with kaiju-like yellow eyes that seems to glare at you that you bolt when your father leaves you aside to talk business with the Hoshina patriarch.

Foolishly, you forget that the Hoshina estate dwarfs your family home. After the fifth rock garden you come across (which admittedly to your seven year old self, seems to blend into each other), you are well and truly lost, so you sit on the porch of some courtyard and wait to be found for a stern reprimand by your father. 

Clang. 

But you’re drawn by the sound of steel clashing, so you follow your ears, and your eyes thank you as you watch two boys spar with dull blades. 

The older, with silver hair, has a clear edge. He’s taller and stronger, so he bullies his younger opponent into a corner. The younger, with dark hair, doesn’t seem daunted, standing his ground with precise swings and savage slashes that his older opponent only manages to parry with difficulty. 

Though you hide yourself behind a pillar, the older boy spots you anyway, breaking off the fight to grab you by the front of your top. 

“Intruder”, he shouts, waving his blade at you.  

“I’m - I’m sorry!” you squeak. You panic, fearful that he’ll throw you out of the estate, because if you can’t even figure your way out around the compound, there’s no way you’re going to find your way back home across half of Osaka, so you hiccup and cry and beg to be let go - 

“Hey! You’re just looking for an excuse to get out of a losing fight.”

Courage has never been your strong suit. It’s easier for you to hide behind your father or older brother’s legs, so you’re taken aback by how quickly the younger boy jumps into the fray on your behalf, defiant even in the face of a larger opponent.  

Your captor’s nostrils flare. “What did you say?!” he demands, but he lets you go with a sneer. 

“Another round then”, the younger boy says, as he tugs you to your feet, brushing the dust off the pretty kimono your mother took the effort to dress you up in. “Maybe this time you’ll actually be serious -” 

His brother brandishes the blade at him. “I’ll beat you to a pulp, you insolent brat.” 

You spend the afternoon watching them from a safe distance until your father finds you, apologising to Hoshina-sama for his wayward daughter. 

You’re formally introduced then to the brothers - Sochiro the elder, who doesn’t even acknowledge you with a nod, and Soshiro the younger, who smiles like the sun when you tell him that he’s amazing in a fight. 

“I’ll show you more next time!!”, Soshiro says. His eyes remind you of violets blooming in spring. 

Your mother hears of your adventures in the Hoshina estate. 

She comes to brush your hair after your bath. “The Hoshina family sees ours as a vassal clan”, she states baldly, as the comb sticks on a particularly tricky tangle. At your noise of confusion (and pain, because she’s none-too-gentle at getting the snags out of your mane), she explains. “That means our family is bound to them by our usefulness in making katanas, the instruments of their success.”  

She clucks her tongue at your obtuseness, as you stare at her, uncomprehending. “We supply swords, not brides to them. There are no engagements between their sons and our daughters. If you wish to associate with the Hoshina boys, you must be of use to them.” 

Perhaps, in her ungentle way, your mother was trying to do you a kindness. 

But you took her warning as instruction instead. So, though you’ve always been afraid of the loud forge your father and older brother work in, you badgered your father for enough lessons in sword making, hovering over him every minute you have out of school so you can learn everything you can.  

It’s worth it, when Soshiro comments on the shiny scars on your forearms the next time you visit. 

“I’ve been learning how to make katanas”, you explain, suddenly shy. 

“Wow!” you catch another glimpse of violets through wide eyes. “You must’ve worked really hard!”  

You peek at the blooms of bruises on his shins, the angry red scratch across his face. “So have you”, you reply. 

He beams, dragging you off to play.  

More often than not, that devolves into him showing off his latest moves, and you applauding his every action. He revels in the attention, which you find strange because surely everyone with eyes should be able to discern that Hoshina Soshiro is wildly talented, even at the tender age of eight, but then whenever his brother surfaces with taunt regarding Soshiro’s swordsmanship, you can see the chip of his shoulder grow, an invisible burden that drags him into the ground.

As an outsider, it’s not your place to comment on the unfairness of being knocked around by a boy five years his senior, so you try your clumsy best to bandage Soshiro’s wounds and slip in an encouraging word or two. You never want to see the violets in his eyes wither and die. 

“I’ll make you the best blade in the world when we grow up”, you bump your elbow against his. “So you can beat him.” 

“Promise?” 

You loop your little finger around his. Half moons brighten into stars. 

// how abt a blade that can separate into 2 // 

// or or or // 

// maybe three?! // 

// would your ancestors roll in their grave //

You wake up to a text. Or three. 

<Gremlin>. You text back. <Soshiro-kun, go to sleep.> 

// you wound me // 

// seeya later // 

// visiting Izumo tech for my new suit!!! // 

// make sure you lend me your lunch discount at the cafeteria // 

You snort.

<Cheapskate>. The rhythm of your conversation thrums. <are you asking me to have lunch with you> 

// someone needs to keep me safe from my fangirls // 

// don’t leave me in their clutches // 

An eye roll. 

< Die >. You turn your phone facedown, resolutely refusing to respond. 

Despite your complaints, you end up eating lunch with him anyway. 

It’s difficult to concentrate on your meal when your childhood friend turned the most eligible bachelor in the Japan Defense Force sits across from you in a skintight uniform, your giggly co-workers sitting two rows down watching his every move. So you push your tray away and just watch him as he chatters away through a mouth full of food (something he’d never do back home because he’s been raised with manners befitting the second son of the esteemed Hoshina clan, but around you he seems to turn into a demented manchild), but you’ve always found it endearing how he’s his chaotic true self around you - 

“New recruits are coming in next month so I don’t know when we’ll have time to catch up -” 

“There’s nothing to catch up on when you keep text me in the middle of the night with your train of thoughts - “

“That’s all work related”, he says. “I want to know how you are doing.” 

You’re not about to tell him that your parents have informed you that they’re tired of you mooning after a man who’ll never love you back, and have started haranguing you via text to get your ass back to Osaka so you can meet suitable men your age who’d be willing to accept an unladylike wife with burn scars trailing up her forearms.  

“As if you really want to know”, you grumble. “You’re only interested in talking to me when it’s about your weapons and tech.” 

“You wound me”, he dramatically claps his hand to his chest, miming hurt. “You don’t believe that I care about my oldest friend?” 

“Nope.”

“Rude”, he sing-songs. “C’mon.”

“The only reason we’re even lunching is because you wanted more upgrades - plus, now you want a shield against your fan-girls, who, by the way, are going to mob me in the bathroom and make me recount for the thousandth time, why and how I know you, the - I quote - cutest guy in the Japanese Defense Force, though they really should get their eyesight checked out in my opinion -” 

“Oohhhh - people think I’m good-looking?” He runs his fingers through his hair like he’s in some 80’s shampoo commercial, throwing an exaggerated wink over his shoulder to the nearest fangirl. You hear a thump on the floor. You hope she didn’t hit her head too hard (but perhaps it might make her sole brain cell work a little better if she did). 

You tap his knuckles with the back of your chopsticks. “Get that ego on a leash.”

His grin is cheeky. “I can’t help it if people think I’m good-looking.” Your heavy sigh makes him pout. “You don’t think I’m good looking?” 

The lunch bell comes to your rescue. 

“I have to get back to work”, you tell him, all too ready to make your escape. 

“So do I”, he gobbles down the rest of his lunch. “Seeya around.”

“Stay safe”, you add. “Don’t let a Kaiju eat you up.” 

“Eat me up?!” he squawks with mock outrage. “Don’t you know I eat Kaijus for breakfast?” 

As if you don’t. In Tokyo, the third division is exceedingly popular. Captain Mina Ashiro of course, takes up most of the attention with her long, dark hair and prowess as the nation’s foremost sniper, but once in a while, the newspapers and magazines run features of Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro, and you dutifully keep cuttings in a scrapbook that you hide under your bed. 

In every interview, he talks about how it’s patently untrue that there’s no space in the Japan Defense Force for those who prefer to wield a blade rather than a modern gun. “Captain Ashiro believes in me”, he says, so seriously that it’s hard to recognise your usual jovial friend. “For that, I’ll be thankful for every day.” 

He said the same thing to you the day of his promotion. 

“She believes in me when no one else did”, he tells you in disbelief. 

That’s a lie, you want to shout. You reminded him that there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d fail the entrance exam into the Japan Defense Force, and he’d indeed pass with flying colours. You calculated his unleashed combat potential from your lab in Izumo Tech, saw him exceed and excel so much so that an exception was made for him to carry katanas which you spent sleepless nights crafting for him. He won his first promotion as platoon leader nary a year in after a stunning victory decapitating yonju across Tokyo, and your congratulatory text to him was ‘See, I knew you’d do it.’ 

So no, Mina Ashiro was not the first person who believed in Hoshina Soshiro. You are. 

Unless, in his eyes, you don’t count. 

<okaa-san>

<Yes, I’ll be glad to meet your friend’s son>

< No promises on anything more>

The date your parents arranged for you is a man with a pleasing smile who has as much romantic interest in you as you in him - which is to say, very little at all. “I’m too busy with my job, but my mother insisted”, he confesses.

You like him all the better for his honesty. “So did mine”, you respond with a wry chuckle. 

Yamamoto-san is good company, nonetheless, even if his only interest in life other than his demanding job as a corporate slave is tending to his houseplants, so since you both share an interest in getting your overbearing mothers off your backs, you agree to have lunch once a month just so you can say to your parents without lying that you’re seeing someone. 

A part of you that you tuck deep into your chest hopes that word gets around to Soshiro, who’ll come beat your front door down, demanding that you, instead, turn your eyes to him (as if you’ve ever looked elsewhere for as long as you’ve known him). And when Hoshina Sochiro, Captain of the Sixth Division, pops into your office for his own tweaks to his tech and rounds upon you with a wicked twinkle in his eye, you’re sure that whatever you share will be conveyed as salaciously as possible to his younger brother. 

“Soooo”, he drags each word out obnoxiously. “Your older brother mentioned that you’re seeing someone now who isn’t my younger brother.” 

You smile blandly. “Soshiro-kun and I have always been just friends.” 

“Just friends my arse”, he retorts. “You’ve had a planet sized crush on him since you were seven. It just can’t be helped that my brother’s got a katana up his arse.” 

You try your best not to wince. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Captain Hoshina?” you gesture at the door. “As you can see, the mountain of work that’s been piling up ever since you stopped by my office needs to be done, and I really don’t have time to sit around and gossip like old women.” 

“So grumpy”, he hops off your desk. “So, should I tell him that he’s missed the boat?”

“Tell him whatever you want.” You begin to type furiously on your laptop. “As if he’ll care.” 

Five minutes later. 

// u have a bf?! // 

// and i had to find out fr Sochiro?! // 

// AND u said there’s nothing to catch up on? // 

You lock your phone in the drawer beneath your desk. 

// are u ignoring me???? // 

“You ignored my texts!” 

This is a first. Hoshina Soshiro, cranky even when a stack of golden brown pancakes soaked in maple syrup wobbles enticingly in front of him. “I was busy at work”, you say. A flimsy excuse, one that fails to placate him as he continues to pout, childlike at you.

“So?” he demands, slicing right through the pancakes with his butter knife. “Is it true?” 

“Is what true?” 

His eyes narrow as he waves his knife accusingly at you. “You decided to tell Sochiro that you got a boyfriend before me?” 

You take a sip of coffee to steady your nerves. “You know I don’t talk to your brother unless he decides to invade my lab. But I guess he and my brother still text from time to time.” 

“Hrm.” he puffs out his cheeks, blows out a breath heavy enough to flutter his bangs. You restrain the urge to reach over and straighten his hair. “Fine.”

“I’m just seeing a guy that my parents set me up with.” You rehearsed exactly what you wanted to say, but your insides churn, the coffee you drank not doing you any favours. “I guess they’re just worried that no one will ever want me as I grow old and unmarriageable.” 

His chuckle is blithe, uncaring. “Parents are all the same, aren’t they? Just last week, my mother called me to ask if I’m interested in being set up on a date with someone - as if I’d ever be interested, I barely have time to sleep, let alone date, and besides, she probably just called because my older brother’s a master at dodging such calls -” 

You let him ramble on as you gather the remnants of your courage deep within your guts for a final advance. 

“Soshiro.”

“Hm?” he looks up, mid-chew. “Sup.”

“If I really did get a boyfriend, you wouldn’t mind, would you?” 

“Why would I mind?” He laughs, reaching over to prod at your cheek. “I mean, I guess as long as you don’t stop making me awesome katanas, and as long as he doesn’t mind that I text you my brilliant ideas on improvements -” 

Unknowingly, he cuts right through your heart. But in fairness to him, you offered your heart on a silver fucking platter, even handed him the blade to stab it with.

“I was just worried you’d be unhappy”, you mumble, blinking back tears furiously. 

Thankfully, he’s too focused on clearing his plate. “I thought you were going to ask me something serious”, he laughs. “What a silly question.” 

“Yeah”, you manage to croak. “What a silly question.” 

He goes on to fill the rest of the afternoon with chatter about his new recruits. You sit numbly and listen to his tales of a Shinomiya slip of a girl who blows all recorded numbers for a recruit out of the window, an old man who confounds his techs by registering a big fat zilch on their combat scales, but he entertains his candidacy because he’s a great source of entertainment. 

“You okay there?” he frowns, stopping mid-story. “You kinda look down.” 

“Indigestion”, you lie through gritted teeth. “Never you mind.” 

“You shouldn’t take milk in your coffee if you’re lactose intolerant, silly”, he teases, confiscating your iced latte. 

“I’m just an idiot”, you try your best to smile. Fortunately, he accepts a pained grimace. 

Your mother was both right and wrong. You know that Soshiro cares for you as a friend, because he could never be callous enough to reduce you to your usefulness to him, but it’s true that he has no space in his heart for you. 

A year or two ago, you piled yourself in a car with both Hoshina brothers to brave the Obon traffic to get back to Osaka for the holidays. You hadn’t been able to afford the jacked up prices for the shinkansen, and Soshiro only found out yesterday that Captain Ashiro took pity on him for missing consecutive New Year holidays that she gave him Obon off as a consolation price, so their parents nagged Sochiro into ferrying you both home. 

“Shouldn’t you have your own car?” Sochiro groused. 

“Why would I need a car if I’m on base 24/7”, Soshiro replied. “Why do you need a car? Unless the sixth division is slacking off -”

The car screeched to a halt. Sochiro kicked open the door, yanked Soshiro by his collar and shoved him into the driver’s seat. “To keep your smart mouth occupied, you can drive us the rest of the way to Osaka.” 

“Aren’t you scared I’ll crash?” 

“If you do, I’ll skin you alive.” 

Your forehead nearly split open from all the bickering. “Guys, I can drive -” 

“No!” Both brothers yelled at you in unison. It’s the first time they’ve probably agreed on anything in their life.

The bickering finally ended when Sochiro fell asleep in the back, head pillowed against the window glass on one side in a way that he’s bound to wake up with a neckache. Still, you’re forced in close proximity to Soshiro, the puffs of warm air from the overworking air-conditioner blending with the scent of steel and citrus, from the shampoo he probably uses, you mused half dizzy, head heavy - 

“If you puke in the car, Sochiro’ll make you lick it up.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Talk to me so I don’t focus on your terrible driving.” 

By the time Soshiro’s done with his recounting of the last four fights he’s been involved in, the massive disappointment of this year’s recruitment exercise and his admiration for Captain Mina Ashiro (which made you want to scream, kick your foot through the windshield, perhaps), the afternoon sun is low to the ground, streetlights along the expressway flickering on. 

You couldn’t help but ask. “Do you ever think about anything other than your job?” 

“Nah.” he chuckled. “I don’t have time for anything else. I gotta spend time to train y’know, otherwise I’ll really die on the job.” 

“Soshiro!” 

“That’s why I got good life insurance”, he deadpanned. 

“I guess that was a silly question”, you slump back in your seat. 

“It really is”, he teased. “So, what else d’you wanna hear about my all consuming job?” 

The memory stings your eyes. 

You make up an excuse to return to your apartment without haste, waiting until he disappears around the corner before you give in to the tears that you’ve been keeping at bay all afternoon. Strangers on the train ride home give you a wide berth, because they certainly don’t want to catch whatever malady you’re clearly suffering from with your swollen eyes and hiccuped sniffles. You stumble into your shoebox apartment, kick your shoes off at the genkan.  

Tonight you’ll give yourself the grace to mourn the death of a dream.  

You crack open the beers he previously brought, one after another. Drunk, you sit on the balcony, the half-moon reminding you too much of a certain vice captain. You let your mother’s words flood your mind. You are meant to offer him blades, not a bride. In another lifetime, in every lifetime, perhaps, the noble born son of a samurai clan would never open his heart to the lowly daughter of a swordsmith. He would be raised to always put duty before love. 

You don’t know why you hoped for anything different. 

So when you roll off your sofa in the morning, you glare at yourself in the toilet mirror, eyes rimmed red, a hangover in full effect. 

“You are an idiot.” you slap your cheeks so hard it turns pink. 

You will not allow this to continue. Hoshina Soshiro is not yours, has never been yours, and will never be yours. You are pathetic for hoping otherwise, stupid for living in hopes that he’ll look at you some day, an utter idiot for letting every choice you’ve ever made in your life be guided by your infatuation with a boy who doesn’t have space in his heart for you.

You could’ve been like your older brother, been content with sticking to the family business of sword making instead spending every spare minute on your engineering studies so you’re well positioned to be snapped up by Izumo Tech as a weapons specialist. You had the leeway to be based in Osaka near your family, but accepted a position in Tokyo just to be closer to where Soshiro’s based. You could’ve had a social life, perhaps even friends outside of work, if you’ve not dedicated your life to your job, working after hours tirelessly, just so you secure promotion after promotion, cementing yourself as Izumo Tech (and by extension, the Defense Force) go-to for anything blade related, just so you fulfil the promise you made to Soshiro all those years ago. 

You cannot live the rest of your life this way.   

a/n: so...i know i've only ever written for the hq boys but the way hoshina soshiro grabbed my throat in a chokehold in that gym training scene just forced my gremlin brain to start typing and get to work on this story for him.

hope you guys like it <3

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Previous Chapter: Part 1 | Next Chapter: Part 3

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

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

Part 3

Previous Chapter: Part 1 | Next Chapter: Part 3

🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥

Shoto's First Kiss Series:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Part 8: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 8

Part 9: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 9

[jyoongim]

~BLOOD & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

Chapter two chapter four

Chapter 3

Note: sooooo as y’all know Alastor and wife!reader have already been married for a few years (by the time they have their last child their marriage will be 16-20 years.) 

Since you had mentioned wanting children, Alastor has taken it upon himself to fuck you on very surface in the house. You had never seen your husband so riled up. When he returned from work, he would always somehow coax you upstairs to make a mess of you. You were often filled with his cum that you were sure you had to be pregnant by now, but you didn’t think about it too much, just letting nature do its thing.

You were prepping for lunch, as Alastor said he wanted to come home and eat.  You decided to keep it simple, opting to make salmon cakes and cabbages. The cabbages were boiling as you moved on to make the cakes. When you opened the can of fish, the smell made you queasy, making your stomach lurch and you quickly made yourself to the bathroom.

You had broken out in a cold sweat as you dry heaved into the toilet. You whimpered as your stomach twisted. You have never had such a reaction to fish before, so why did you feel so sick all of a sudden?

You splashed some cold water on your face and looked at your reflection.

Eyes scanning yourself in the mirror,  you couldn’t see what ailment had fallen over you. You looked a little pale but that could be from anything. Your eyes lingered on your midsection.

could you be…

You turned and pressed your hands against your stomach, smoothing out your dress to be flat. Heart beating out your chest, you caressed your stomach. Your stomach had a slight bump, something that you had chalked up from your indulgence in sweets. But it was rounder than how it usually looked.

Your eyes widened and quickly went downstairs to phone the doctor.

—————————————————————————————-

“Well ma’am congratulations! It would appear you are around 12 weeks.” 

The doctor smiled at you, waiting for your response.

You were stunned. 

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

You cleared your throat nervously “w-what am i suppose to do?”

The question held uncertainty but you had no idea what or how to process this news.

A small part of you was happy, you finally were gonna have a baby with Alastor. The other part was nervous and scared, you didn’t have the slightest thought on how to raise a child.

The doctor chuckled “Its normal to be scared or nervous. This is your first time after all but don’t worry. I recommend attending mothering classes, to get the knowledge and familiar with baby terms, symptoms, and how to prepare. You’re a bit vitamin-deficient but more fruits and greens can help with that. You’ll experience morning sickness here and there so don’t push yourself. The important thing is that you get as must rest as possible. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

You jotted down some notes as the doctor filled you with some information and thanked him for his time. He gave you your next appointment and answered any other health questions you had. You made a mental note to visit these mommy classes.

You sighed as you closed the door to your home. Your mind was reeling and you were filled with so many emotions.

You hadn’t thought you would get pregnant so soon but Alastor was very if not persistent when it came to keeping you filled.

You soon had a smile on your face as you thought of the little one growing within you. You knew Alastor didn’t mind having a baby, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he would react to the news. 

Would he be excited to be a Daddy? Would he want a boy or a girl?

You were sure he wouldn’t mind either way.

You couldn’t wait to tell him the good news.

————————————————————————————————-

Alastor let some jazz tunes play as he looked over some scripts and news for his next segment. He stole a glance at the clock and got up from his chair, grabbing his jacket.

 It was lunch time.

He was headed home to spend his break with his wife.

A pleasant shiver ran through him at the thought of taking his sweet wife over the meal she prepared for him.

He had been fucking his wife nonstop since she mentioned children and the thought of her swollen with his child always sent his cock swelling.

He placed his hat and jacket on the couch as he made his way to the kitchen. He was greeted with the sight of you dressed fairly comfortable, not in your usual polished attire. Your hair was pinned up and wrapped, you were dressed in your silk robe, which was dropping off your shoulders, exposing them. You were humming as you washed the dishes.

You looked ravishing.

He crept up behind you, making you jolt when his long arms wrapped around your midsection. He pressed his lips to the junction of your neck, littering your shoulder and neck in kisses. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes darlin” he drawled, nuzzling his nose into the underside of your jaw. You giggled as Alastor nipped at your skin, wiping your soapy hands on a towel you spun around to wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss his lips “Hello to you too dear. I hope you’re hungry. I made fish cakes. Dont want you too tired heavy with a full meal when you have to dazzle the masses”

A wide smile stretched across his face, eyes lidded “What if I just want dessert?” He jested as you swatted at his broad chest with a blush sprouting on your face.

“Oh shush! Sit down and eat” you huffed, shoving a plate into his chest.

Alastor chuckled and took the plate and moved to leaned over the kitchen island.

”Are you feeling ok my dear? Not that I mind, no, but you seem tired” he took a took a sip of tea, eyeing you.

You fidget with your fingers “I am feeling better, had a bit of a upset stomach this morning and paid the doctor a visit” you tried to hide your smile as his brows furrowed and dropped the cake to look you over like a worried hen.

His hands took yours as he frowned “you’re not coming down with anything are you? Why ain’t you page me at the studio i would have gladly took you.”

You leaned into his chest, smiling at him “weeelll i did come down with something and I fear i wont be rid of it anytime soon” oh you were torturing the poor man.

He had panic in his eyes as he was unaware of what it was. Wanting to remain strong and supportive for your sake.

”well whatever it is I will make sure to be there with you through it all” he declared.

Oh this was sweet.

”did the doctor tell you what it was at least?” He asked.

You smiled, catching him off guard, as you placed his hands on your stomach. Alastor was confused when you did so, his hands spanned along your stomach. You were a bit rounder but you did like sweets.

You watched as the realization dawned on his face. His jaw dropped and his brown eyes looked at your in shock. “A-are you…” you frantically nodded, unable to conceal your giggling as he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you.

”Oh darling really? Youre..you’re really? Youre pregnant?” His voice grew excited.

”hehehe yes yes were having a baby! Alastor we are having a baby” your face was attacked in kisses. “Doc said im 12 weeks, looks like your resilience paid off” you giggled as your husband smoothed his hands over your stomach, crouching down as he laid his forehead against the bump.

”A-are you happy?” You couldn’t help but ask. He looked up at you, eyes shining and smile big “Oh baby you just don’t know.” He kissed your stomach, cooing, before kissing your lips. “You’ve made me the happiest. Almost like we got married all over again” he whispered against your lips.

He rested a hand on your stomach, caressing the bump. “Ooh I can’t wait to see how motherhood shapes you cher” he kissed your forehead, making you sigh lovingly.

Alastor had decided to page the studio to tell them something came up at home and the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon cuddled on the couch; Alastor had you tucked into his side as he stroked your stomach, already in love. The two of you had discussed what the next steps would be and how to move forward. 

All the sweetness and lovey-dovey led to the two of you giving into more sensual desires, really just enjoying each other and reestablishing the love between the two of you. 

You slipped your robe back on as you broke the heated kiss your husband had pulled you into. He groaned when you pulled away and went to get off his lap, hands kneading your hips. “Where you going sweetness” he purred as you giggled standing

”To freshen up. Since you’re home maybe we can really hunker down on what we gonna do for this baby mister” you said heading upstairs. Alastor pouted, listening to your footsteps move around. He got up and went to put up the lunch you made, he’ll take it with him when he’s out working late.

Speaking of which….he needed to spruce up a few loose ends he had been watching and would let to get those done before you needed all his attention.

He was confident in his ability to keep his sins away from your lives at home, after all he had crafted a beautiful reality here with you and he didn’t want that to be ruined by anything or anyone.

He whistled an old tune as he thought of you and a smile appeared on his face.

He was over the moon to find out you were pregnant. 

He couldn’t wait to see how motherhood treated you. 

To watch your body transform to provide for his child. How did he get so lucky to have a woman like you?

He wondered if you’ll have a boy or girl, he preferred a baby girl but he didn’t really care as long as you were happy.

After he cleaned up the kitchen he headed upstairs and Alastor swore his heart skipped a beat at the sight before him.

You were asleep on your side, one hand under your cheek and the other resting against the small baby bump, slowly stroking it. He threw a blanket over you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Satisfied that you were comfortable, he got his clothes from the other day from the closet and headed downstairs outback to wash his clothes.

It was gonna be a pain to get the stains out.

————————————————————————————

Sooooo what do you guys think?? I hate im going so slow but i need to build up some plot lol. I promise Alastor gone slip up!!

Remember to comment on pin for tag and like and comment!

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[orimuraa]

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ With you everything will be alright - Lee Heeseung

(synopsis) ౨ৎ heeseung's always gonna be right by your side, even in your toughest moments ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

lee heeseung x student fem!reader ౨ৎ comfort, fluff, a bit of angst ౨ৎ kisses, petnames, crying, reader is overwhelmed ౨ৎ wc 417

𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this if for my bestest older sister, @saeivra. ik youre going through a tough time rn so this is for you <3 mwah, ilysm

you lost track of how many hours went by as you flipped through a textbook, jotted down some notes, scrolled through your computer and overall, took a break from studying.

heeseung was starting to get concerned because you haven't left that desk in 6 hours...

"baby? i think it's time to take a break, hm?" he suggested, walking over to you and using a soft tone.

that's when he noticed you weren't scribbling on a piece of paper.

no, you were crying.

your head was hung low and your hair covered your face, but he didn't miss the way your salty tears rolled of your cheeks, and splattered onto the paper.

"oh my sweet baby, tell me what's wrong, let's take a break, okay?" his voice so soft, afraid that if he spoke any louder, you would break down even more.

all you did was nod and that was all heeseung needed before wrapping his arms around your shivering frame and picking you up from the chair.

he brought you over to the bed, letting you snuggle into his chest as he sat against the headboard.

your uneven breaths quickened and soon, your body shook in his arms.

tears soaking the shoulder and neckline of heeseung's shirt. but he didn't care. he only wanted you to be okay.

after a bit, your breathing finally calmed and all that was left was the silent sound of your occasional hiccups.

heeseung took note of this and leaned down, pressing his lips against the crown of your head.

"shh shh shhh, i'm right here baby. i'm not going anywhere.." he whispered.

you felt so safe in his arms, the warmth providing you with a sense of reassurance that as long as you had him, everything would be alright.

"h-hee?" your voice was barely audible, causing heeseung to lean down a bit.

"yeah baby?"

"thank you...for always helping me out of my slumps," you said, shutting your eyes gently.

"my pretty baby, i want you to be able to rely on me to help you. i love you so so much ynnie," he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose.

"now, let's lay here for a bit and then why don't you show me what you're struggling with and we'll get through it together okay?" he offered, pulling you closer to him.

all you did was nod, basking in the warmth of his body and the comforting scent of his vanilla cologne.

"i love you hee,"

"i love you more princess."

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[fayes-fics]

What The True Poet Describes

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Having been parted for many weeks, it makes you and Benedict realise some truths…

Warnings: none… this is utter fluff. Romantic confessions and proposals.

Word Count: 1.4k

Authors Note: Anon request fill from HERE (reader returns from travel to confess her feelings for Benedict). Unbetaed. Sorry it has taken me ten months to fulfil this Nonny, but I hope you enjoy! <3

As your carriage thunders down the cobbled street of Mayfair, your stomach flutters—not from the jostling of the rough surface, but for an entirely different reason. This is a homecoming of sorts, it certainly feels too long since you were here; the sights and the smells of London so enthralling, teeming with life, such a contrast to where you have been. 

But it’s not just that.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and for you, nothing could be more apt. It’s been nine weeks, and you are positively aching inside, distance bringing clarity to your heart's true desire. You are jangling with anticipation because of your destination. Not caring a jot for judgement of your actions or any scandal that may ensue, single-minded in your mission.

As the carriage slows in front of a handsome red brick townhouse, you leap out before your footman can assist. So keen for a reunion. The front door sweeps open, and the valet requests your name. But before you can even give it, the very person you want to see materialises at the top of the staircase: so handsome it takes your breath away. His face is one of shock.

“Miss y/l/n?!?” Benedict’s baritone voice rings out in genial confusion.

“Mr Bridgerton!” your responding call an animated response, holding out your hand to him as he descends stairs quickly.

He reaches you and politely takes one of your hands, kissing your gloved knuckles, your blood flushing warm as he does.

“I have missed you!” Unable to hide the breathiness in your claim.

“I have missed you too!” He echoes, still seeming taken aback before shaking his head a fraction.“Gosh, where are my manners? Please come into the drawing room!” 

He leads you there, his hold on your gloved hand respectful but firm, a warmth that stirs your belly.

“Smith, some tea, please,” he requests over his shoulder as he sees you to a seat.

“It’s rather late. Do you have anything stronger?”

His eyebrow shoots up at your perhaps cheeky query, but it's not in judgment, more surprised admiration and respect. 

“Cancel that, Smith,” he calls out. “How about a brandy?” He adds quietly just for you, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You nod enthusiastically and remove your gloves as he pours two glasses from a decanter nearby.

“What brings you here so late?” 

His skin touches yours briefly as he hands you the glass, a tiny frisson running down your spine.

“I have something to tell you,” you offer, slightly enigmatic. “I hope you will indulge an old friend.”

“Less of the old, please,” he jests gently, raising his glass in a silent toast.

“To good friends,” you amend, mirroring his action, then taking a sip and enjoying the fruity burn of the cognac.

“Good friends,” he echoes after a swig, then smiles at you expectantly, waiting to hear your answer to his question.

“Well, I suppose what I have to say is more of a confession…“ you admit, after another fortifying gulp, eyes downcast upon your glass as you swirl it lightly in your hand—a nervous tic. “Prussia has been nice in some ways, but there was one thing I missed so very much…”

“London?” he guesses

“Yes, but that’s not it,” you smile, looking up again.

“Parties?” he suggests next with a wink.

“Well, yes, those too,” you giggle and blush at the thought of the bohemian parties you have snuck away to in the past, one such gathering being where you met him. “But not what I’m referring to.”

“Tell me then.”

Steeling yourself, you look at him squarely, 

“You, Benedict. My dearest friend. I have missed you. So very terribly,” you confess over a jagged exhale.

He looks abashed, so handsome in his modesty, a dot of colour high on his cheeks as he bows his head and looks at you through his lashes.

“And it made me realise something…” 

You place aside your now empty glass. Nerves have you spring to your feet, taking a pace tentatively towards him, hands wringing.

“What?” 

His question is delicate, almost gossamer, his face enrapt, looking up at you as you stand before him, ready to finally admit out loud what your heart has been screaming for many weeks now, perhaps always.

“Yours is the wise counsel that I have missed the most. My company has been sorely lacking your sparkling wit, and indeed, there are no talented wordsmiths such as yourself to be found. Especially not any with a countenance as pleasing as yours.” 

He blushes deeper, the pinkness staining his cheeks, but he is also staring intently at you now, his breathing a little uneven. So you decide to be brave, to throw all caution to the wind.

“I-I like you, Benedict. So very much. So ardently,” each word a slight stumble, your whole body flushing hot as you lay bare the truth. “I-I wish to call you something infinitely more dear than a friend if you will permit it. These past few weeks have made me realise just how much I have missed you. A-And I felt compelled to rush back to tell you. To see if perhaps y-you might return my affection?” You stumble, your heart pounding wildly and loudly in your ears as you finally stop to take a breath.

He stands up now, too, his lopsided smile tender as he advances slowly toward you.

“Y/n, did you ever stop to consider why I always referred to you as one of my best friends from the very first time we met?” He asks as he draws closer; you are unable to look away, trapped under his intense gaze. 

“N-No?”

“It is because yours is the company I wish for the most. Days without you were, and indeed are, so very bland. I have always wanted your wonderous spirit near me, even if it was only ever as a good friend,” his voice sounding so wistful. “You should know, however, that only scratches the surface of what I feel for you, indeed, what I have always felt for you…” 

You gasp as his fingers tilt up your chin tenderly, and you find yourself lost in his eyes as he speaks again. 

“You are my muse, my wonder. Your ethereal beauty has always haunted me. You fill my every thought. Being apart from you these last few weeks has been such torture.” 

Your entire being feels alight, each cell an inferno, almost in disbelief that his feelings are an apparent mirror of your own.

“Perhaps what I want to say is better expressed in poetry….”

He pauses and looks deep into your eyes as if piercing to your very soul, sonorous, velvet words beginning to tumble from his lips.

“What is it truly to admire a woman?” 

Already captivated by his rhetorical question, you feel yourself sway towards him.

“To look at her and feel inspiration?” 

He gestures to miniature portraits of you dotted around the room, each obviously painted by his talented hand. You are temporarily dumbfounded, not even noticing them until this very moment. 

A soft chuckle from him brings your focus unerringly back to his earnest, handsome face.

“To delight in her beauty?”

He touches your cheek tenderly. It feels like a searing brand mark; you cannot look anywhere but him, lips parted, breath ragged.

“So much so that all your defences crumble…” 

He laces his fingers with yours as you feel a tidal wave of emotion, a tightness in your chest that is your lungs feeling barely able to breathe.

“That you would willingly take on any pain, any burden… for her….” 

He brings your joined hands over his heart, trying to convey the sincerity behind his lyrical declaration as you feel your eyes mist.

“To honour her being… with your deeds and words….” 

His lips brush the back of your knuckles, a wet spike of heat, and then you gasp loudly as he falls to one knee before you, his hands still clutching both of yours.

“I have missed you more than any words can ever express, y/n. I never wish to be parted from you again. I do not yet have a ring for you, but please, will you do me the very greatest honour of being my wife?”

Your world tilts at his wondrous, heartfelt proposal, ebullient joy radiating through your every pore. You begin to nod, a tear welling in the corner of your eye. Knowing there is only one word that will ever be your elated response…

“YES!!”

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[laughtalelogs]

impossibilities pt. 2 - different mindsets

PAIRING - zoro x fem!reader

WORD COUNT - 5.1k+

WARNINGS - mentions of sex MDNI, no beta, minor injuries, enemies to lovers, no use of y/n, strong language, zoro bullying, slight mentions of anxiety, reader is a geologist, reader is pretty highstrung and combative in this fic- this is all setting up for eventual smut in pt.3

SUMMARY - after getting lost for hours, you and zoro continue to find yourselves in the same problems as before. will you both be able to handle yourselves after spending so much time alone?

AUTHOR’S NOTE - I spent an unnerving amount of time sitting on this fic (3 fucking months), and have came to the executive decision to split it into multiple parts. this is so different from the first part, and I use it more as inspiration than a true continuation of that story.

you can honestly skip reading part 1 if you want!

pt. 1 (x) , pt. 2 (you are here) , pt.3 (coming soon)

In the hour that followed Zoro’s hack job on the engine, the caravan filled with silence, accompanied by soft breathing that made you grip the steering wheel tighter.

Must be nice, you thought as you peered over your shoulder.

Zoro’s arms were crossed, short tufts of green poking out from his winter hat. His head was dipped down, nodding with each rock of the vehicle. The ruddy blotches that covered his cheeks and nose told you he had to be cold, despite his stubbornness. You thumb the scarf around your neck with hesitation.

Fuck it.

You let go of the wheel and pulled off the fuzzy scarf that suddenly felt like lead in your hands. You leaned over Zoro for a moment and stared down at his peaceful face. His breathing was slow and even, the tell-tale signs of a deep sleep. Testing the waters, you poked his cold cheek, jerking back as if you expected him to jump at you.

He didn’t though, gentle breaths rose his chest up and down.

He’d be cuter if he stayed like that, you thought. Rather than doing everything in his power to get under your skin. Even so, you held your breath and carefully draped it around his neck, wrapping it around twice. You sighed, turning back to the sea of white as you settled back down in the driver's seat, rubbing the crease in your brow.

Why the hell did I do that?

You glanced one more time over your shoulder. Zoro’s face sunk into the fabric on his neck, the wool nuzzling his nose.

You quickly turned around again, taking your sweaty palms to grasp the wheel again as you continued to drive.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad. At least you had a moment to think with him asleep. With the silence, the fog of annoyance cleared from your mind. Before the storm, you spotted a small structure that you had wanted to explore, but Zoro was hellbent on getting back to the ship.

Maybe you’d be able to find some semblance of shelter there— though that was proving to be difficult with the passing minutes.

You smacked your lips together, and mixed emotions bubbled to the surface when thinking about Zoro’s warnings of the storm.

You tried to pinpoint the exact moment that it all went wrong.

What the hell was taking him so long?

You fanned your scowling face and covered your eyes from the sun, pacing on the bank of the beach. Zoro‘s absence already put a sour taste in your mouth, and the expedition hadn’t even started yet.

Luffy was crouched by the sand while he dug into the sand with a stick. “Can’t we go yet?”

“Not until Nami is finished.” Sanji said, blowing smoke from the corner of his lips.

Luffy whined and flopped onto his back. “But Robin, Usopp, and Chopper already got to go!”

Beside you, Nami scanned the horizon of the island and jotted notes in her logbook, tapping her foot impatiently. She threw Luffy a stern, pointed look, snapping her book close. Its echoing clap stopped your restless feet, and you shot a glance their way. Luffy rolled onto his stomach and muttered under his breath, poking at the ground again, not willing to fight the beast inside his Navigator. she shoved the journal in her bag, and dug around for something else before pulling it out.

“Luffy, Sanji, and I will circle the island going east using the waver,” She held the transponder snail out toward you. “That leaves you and Zoro to cut through the middle while Jinbe, Brook, and Franky watch the ship. If you see anything of interest or run into trouble, call us on this.”

You couldn’t stop the groan that slipped from your lips and plucked the snail from her hands. Its wide eyes stared back at your disgruntled face. “Can’t you or Sanji switch with him?”

Nami let out an exasperated sigh, her freckled nose scrunched up in disappointment. “You said you were fine with this.”

“I said I’m fine with making sure that dumbass doesn’t get lost,” you grumbled, “I didn’t say I was fine being alone with him that long.”

Sanji turned around. “I mean, I don’t mind-”

Nami held up her hand and cut him off, “-It’s an hour tops, they’ll be fine.”

Before you could protest more, Nami continued, “you both are very capable, mature adults and crewmates. I am sure you both can handle yourselves for an hour.”

“Luffy, help me here?” You whined to your captain.

He turned attention away from the sand beetle he dug up, and it burrowed back into the ground. Luffy’s head swiveled towards you, a frown on his face. “Huh?”

“Do I have to go with Zoro?” You asked again. You watch him think on it for a moment, and the words he said made you deflate.

“We pulled straws, it would be unfair if we changed now.” A rubbery hand stretched forward and wrapped your shoulder, giving it a good shake of encouragement. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“You think getting punched in the face is fun.”

But you couldn’t argue further than that, and you weren’t going to go against your captain. You shrugged his hand off. “Some help you are…”

“-It's not like I bite, you know.” Zoro's voice cut in from afar, the sound of his swords jostling behind you as he climbed off the ship.

Your shoulders rose to your ears, and you turned to face him as he made his way towards you and the remnants of the crew.

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t a pain in my ass. You better not slow me down.”

Zoro’s shadow eclipsed you as he leisurely strolled over with crossed arms, blocking the festering heat.

“As long as you don’t get me lost.”

You scoffed. “Me? Get us lost? What a joke.”

“You’re the joke,” Zoro lips twitched upwards. “Acting selfish as usual, like a pathetic baby. Nami said we were adults, right?”

“I am not a baby.” But as soon as the words came out, they felt childish. His words ring in your head, anger stirring inside of you.

Zoro stuck his chin high and glowered down at you. “That’s what a baby would say.”

“Babies can’t talk.” You always felt ridiculous under his scrutiny. “So you were just up there wasting time eavesdropping?”

“No, I was doing my job. You wouldn’t know about that, though?” He reached into his haramaki and pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, shoving it your way.

You took it between two fingers. When you flipped it around, you found notes on how to operate the vehicle that sat off in the distance.

“Franky stopped me to give you this. In case you forgot.” He added.

“Oh,” Your voice faltered as you averted his gaze, folding the note and slipping in your pocket. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

He shrugged, scratching his neck. “You’re welcome.”

“ …Anyways,” Nami ignored the both of you and placed her book into her rucksack. “I have a sneaking suspicion a snow squall is approaching. I put two snowsuits in the brachio for you two just in case. Make sure to head back before then. I just want to chart this place and dodge, but keep your eyes peeled for treasure.”

“A snow squirrel?” Luffy jumped up with newfound purpose. “Sounds awesome!”

Sanji took Nami’s bag from her hands and placed it on his back, his gaze flickered in between you and Zoro. “-Sounds like a bigger pain in the ass than Moss.”

“Shitty cook, I’ll show you a pain in the ass-”

Zoro’s proclamation made you double over in laughter. Sanji doesn’t miss the way Zoro stiffened at the sound.

How could that idiot be so emotionally constipated? The cook thought to himself.

You smiled Sanji’s way, amusement bright in your face. You miss the way Zoro’s eye darted from you to him. “Good one.”

Sanji shook his head and eyed you, who straightened up and inched away from the other man, stepping out of Zoro’s shadow. Not like you were faring any better.

“Can I fight the snow squirrel, Nami?” Luffy was bouncing in anticipation, ignoring his quarreling crew.

“It’s not a-” She pinched the bridge of her nose. At this rate, the crew, this island, and the weather was going to give her a headache. “Sure, whatever. Let’s move out.”

You watched Nami grab Luffy, stomping away as Sanji followed suit. You try to say something again, but the three of them are already off, waving their goodbyes.

“You two don’t kill each other, okay?”

“If you find the squirrel, save it for me!”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Marimo.” And with that, they were on their way.

You and Zoro stood there for a second, the awkwardness from your desperation to get rid of him sat in the air. He cleared his throat before beginning to walk off. “Come on, we’re already losing time.”

“Wrong way, genius.” You crossed your arms, motioning with your head. “Brachio’s the other way.”

He stopped in his tracks, and grumbled, turning around, “just testing you.”

You rolled your eyes, “sure, whatever makes you feel better.”

As time went on, you had made several stops on your way down the middle of the island.

You were surprised how many rock formations you found. This made it a perfect time to grab undisturbed samples. You itched with anticipation as you thumb a rock on the ground and slip off your backpack, taking a small vial and placing the pebble inside.

“The hell are you doing over here?” Zoro's voice pulled you out of your excitement.

“My job.” You snapped back, His comment earlier still stung. It wasn’t the first time he had called you immature, and it had dug into the wound he created long ago. “I just thought I saw something, just making sure.”

“You said that at the last two stops, too. We’re running out of time before the storm.”

You shrugged, looking up at the sky as you stood. You weren’t an expert like Nami, but the soil was compacted, the rocks eroded by wind. If there was a storm coming, It would be the first time the island had it in years. “It’ll be fine, plus It’s hot as shit right now.”

“I don’t get why you’re so interested in finding anything here.” The look you see Zoro shoot your way showed he was unconvinced. “All we’ve found are just some dumb rocks.”

You walked past him and let a finger swipe against the hilts of his blades as you passed him. You saw his jaw tighten from the corner of your eye. “These just dumb rocks to you, like those are stupid swords to me.”

“Don’t disrespect them like that.” Zoro bristled behind you, his heavy steps following yours.

“Then don’t disrespect my rocks like that.” You offered.

You see something shine on the old trail, a glint in the terrain that jutted out from the tough ground, as well as a shack off into the further distance. You buzzed with excitement. Maybe it was a precious stone you could dig up, or even some sea prism stone that would help further your research. It all was worth checking out.

The obnoxious moan that you heard behind you as you made your way to the rock only spurred you forward. As you crouched to reach for it, a strong gust of wind dislodged the stone, and it tumbled away, rolling into a patch of grass.

“We don’t have time for a treasure hunt anymore. Look up.”

You turned your head to the sky, watching as a sheet of gray creeped at an alarming speed towards you. You cursed under your breath and chewed your lip. Shit.

“We still have time to make it back.”

A prickle of embarrassment rose up your neck and made you shivered, but you shoved it down and tried to make sense of the snowy tundra.

It’s too late now, no matter who was right.

The objective was to either find the crew, or find a signal for the transponder snail, who was also taking an undeserved nap on the control panel. That plan definitely didn’t include the thoughts of him swarming in your brain.

Besides, you swim back to the surface of your murky thoughts, nothing else could go wrong.

Right?

The brachio mini’s power flickered, jerking you back to reality.

The bright lights waned off above you— a short warning before the emergency power kicked in again. There was not enough time for you to brace for impact. You lurched forward as the wheels jolted to a halt, the engine sputtering out sparks from the gash. The hull screeched against the ice like a dying whale.

“No—” No. It had become your personal mantra.

No. No. No. A prayer to whatever omnipotent being that found your suffering entertaining. “—No!”

You screamed and banged a fist on the control panel that you were unceremoniously splayed over. It screamed back in response, flooding the cabin with bright red light as bold letters flashed on the screen: Engine Failure. Please contact Franky immediately.

Your eyes darted to the mini transponder snail again, but its stupid, sleeping face mocked you, turned on its side from the sudden stop. You were out of range. Still.

“Not working?” Zoro grunted behind you, voice coated in grogginess. You whipped your head around, surprised to find him leaned over you, staring at the screen beneath you. The tassels of the scarf you donned him dangled in front of you. You’re shocked to find he hadn’t removed it. The fresh scent of mint mingled with vanilla and fanned across your face. You flinched.

“You tell me, Sleeping Beauty.” You swiveled your seat around and shoved his shoulder, leaning further back to gain distance.

Of course, he didn’t budge an inch, “I wasn’t asleep, you’ve got a real bad staring problem, you know.”

“Must have been some weird dream, as if I haven’t seen enough of your face today.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” He mocked, throwing your forgotten words back in your face.

You scowled, but decided to change the subject for both of your sakes. “Head still hurt?”

Zoro blinked, and his gaze softened at your question. “Nah, I’m good now.”

“Good,” you sighed in relief. At least that wasn’t another problem to deal with. “I’m glad.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow, and something flickered in his gaze that made you more restless. “That crash didn’t really help, though. You’re a horrible driver.”

“I didn't crash!” You snapped back. “Maybe you can actually help instead of letting me do all the heavy lifting for once.”

Zoro frowned. That’s more like it, you thought.

You continued, “Franky’s gonna have our asses for this.”

“Eh,” Zoro offered an uninterested shrug, as he backed away. Air willed itself into your lungs again.“He’ll get over it.”

You threw your arms up in exasperation, balling your fists up as they fell. “You tell him then.”

“Sure,” you watched his jaw tighten, “Whatever.”

He climbed the ladder beside him and opened the hatch. Cold air surged forward and nipped at your skin.

“What are you doing?” You winced at the sound of your own voice echoing off the tinny walls.

“We’re walking back? Don’t see this as something that’ll come back on.” Zoro doesn’t even look your way, unbothered by the wind that bit at his face, gesturing around at the hunk of metal that encased you both.

Nothing unusual, just snow. Zoro thought after he scanned the area.

He climbed back down and tightened his swords to his side. They clanged together awkwardly, hitting the seat behind him as he tried to keep his distance. He had had his fun, but it was starting to become too suffocating, being stuck with you.

He stole a glance at you and watched your furled up fists tremble from the cold that began to creep in.

Cute, he thought.

He didn’t think about the word that popped up frequently when he looked at you. The way your snowsuit had crumpled in the crash had mangled it, the zipper halfway down, hat sliding down the back of your head.

Annoying, but cute.

He suppressed the urge to reach out and fix it, to pull it over your frozen ears.

He frowned. Why the hell would I want to do that?

Zoro tried to roll the thought down his shoulders, stretching through the tension that surged up his spine.

The idea made sense. You mulled over his words, but you watched the snow falling from the porthole and felt your body fill with dread. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through snow. Zoro tapped his foot impatiently, each second passing by quicker.

“No,” You said, “we should wait for someone to come get us.”

“That’s what we did last time, remind me—” Zoro’s voice low and calm, “—how’d that work out for you?”

You unclenched your fists and buried your face in your hands; letting out a long, frustrated groan. “We’re both at fault, don’t pin this on me.”

“Of course,” his chuckle tight, “and how long has it been since we left?”

“Four hours,” you mumbled into your palms, “four hours and thirty-seven minutes.”

Each of those minutes weighed heavier than the next.

“I don’t plan to wait longer.”

“Plan? You know what that is?”

“Cut the shit already.” He bit back. “Get the stick out of your ass and let’s go. If we move fast, you won’t have time to get cold.”

You threw an incredulous look his way, not surprised when you are met with his serious face.

“Of course, a dumbass like you would think that.”

Normally, your spats would be short-lived moments of anger before one of you gave in and escaped somewhere else in the ship. You could run to Nami or Sanji and spew vitriol about Zoro with no judgment. By then, enough time would have passed for you both to calm down from the other, and didn’t affect the ways of life being on the same crew.

This, though, was probably the longest you both had to be together; and definitely your first time alone like this. It chipped at your patience, and by the strained look he kept throwing your way, you suspected Zoro wasn’t far behind.

You racked your brain for a solution, an escape from him, yet nothing came to mind. A gentle tap on your shoulder jerked you from your thoughts.

Peering in between your fingers, you found Zoro, close again. He gave you a once over with a soft, unreadable eye. It made you want to curl up into a ball.

“Come on, we’ll do it together.” he offered a hand, his calloused palm an unexpected olive branch. “Trust me.”

Your heart thrashed in your chest like a wild animal as the moments of an hour ago flashed in your mind. You felt heat rise up your neck. You squeezed your legs shut, reminded of the heat of his own between them, his shadow that engulfed you as he loomed over you. Your mind was flooded with thoughts you reached out to control.

Horrible, horrible thoughts you couldn’t get rid of.

“-Fuck you.” The words stumbled out of your mouth like a bad habit you couldn’t quite shake. They were words that come out too quick, too harsh— ones that you don’t even truly mean.

But, they’re better than the alternative: staring at his hand, imagining it in places that would make you lose your mind.

Before he could respond, you shot up and snatched the transponder snail, shoving it deep in your pocket. You shuffled awkwardly through the limited space and squeezed past, scrambling up the ladder. You kept your eyes glued forward as you faced the frigid unknown.

“Real adult of you,” You heard him call out below you. The guilt that bubbled at the back of your throat tasted bitter. You swallowed it down and leapt into the snow.

As you sank down, your socks soaked up the wet, cold slush that piled up at your legs. You regretted the decision to not fight him more on leaving.

That's what you get for being distracted.

Refusing to turn around, you marched forward, despite the numbing cold that is crept through your snowsuit. The faint crunching of snow behind you was enough to tell you he was not far behind. You kept your eyes on the snow as you tried to settle your nerves.

There had to be some way to get out of this wintry hell.

Zoro drank in your silhouette, a stark image compared to the snow before him.

He narrowed his eye. You were pissier than usual, maybe even more than on a bad day. He thought he might’ve pushed you too far, but it was too easy, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have time to kill.

He adjusted the scarf around his neck and your forgotten backpack he’d slung over his shoulder. With each tug, vanilla and sea salt filled his nose and clouded his judgment. It felt like he was going to be choked by the strong aroma.

Still, he didn’t move to take it off, and didn’t want to think about why he pressed his face deeper, letting his breath fog in the material.

His eye flicked up from your waist, trailing up the back of your annoyingly pretty head that shook in anger.

How desperately he wanted to grab it and hold it still. He wondered what thoughts you had rattling in there that made you so irrational. Your hat desperately clung to you, before it slid down your back, into the snow.

You were always like that, Zoro thought as he plucked your forgotten headwear as he passed by, stuffing it in his pocket.

He forced his eye to not creep back upwards and watched your feet march forward.

Damn body, reacting on its own.

Zoro ignored the stirring in his chest that travelled like an inferno further and further down, where the desires he kept a tight lid on lay dormant. Sure, he meant to make you riled up, but he didn’t expect himself to still be affected. He tried to steady his heart beat, to focus on the dire situation you both were trapped in.

But still — He couldn’t shake away the thought of you, peering up at him, thighs clenched around nothing for the second time in a row, before you delivered the most immature ‘fuck you’ of the century. The beating of his chest he still couldn’t quell reminded him — you were so distracting while doing so.

Exhaustion pulled you down into the slush with each step you took.

At some point, Zoro fell in line beside you. You trained your eyes to the ground and watched your feet and Zoro’s disturb the fresh blanket of snow, only to steal a look at him out of the corner of your eye. You saw something oddly familiar slung across his back.

“When did you get my bag?” You asked.

“Finally noticed?” His lips stretched into a grin. “While you threw your temper tantrum, I grabbed it.”

“I can carry it, give it here.” You reach for the bag, but his hand swats yours away, adjusting the strap.

“Just for you to leave it again? No chance. I thought you wanted me to do the lifting, anyways,”

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity as you continued to walk. You wondered what he was thinking, or if he was at all. Maybe he was using this experience as some weird training technique, but the quick gazes you shot his way show that same, unreadable face, eye locking with yours for a moment only to look away, far into the distance.

He must be exhausted, especially from you.

Anxiety had begun to gnaw at you, thinking of that outstretched hand from earlier as your eyes darted back to the snow. Thinking of the words he called you before, selfish. immature. control freak.

You had been giving him a hard time, you thought.

Insecurities of being too much, too commanding, too, well, you, bubbled up to the surface. Maybe what he said about you was right. You had been unforgiving all day. The same warnings he had told the crew before you had joined all those months ago ring like alarms in your head. It was your fault you guys were in this situation, ultimately, no matter how much you twisted it in your mind.

Before you realized it, the word slipped off your tongue.

“Sorry.”

His walk faltered for a moment, a strangled noise coming from his throat. “Huh?”

“For earlier.” You garbled out and picked up speed, as if your body was searching for an escape from the awkwardness of it all. “For everything.”

“Say it again.” He demanded, jogging to keep up with you, “Don't think I caught that right.”

You felt the hole he was boring into your skull, but you kept pushing forward, willing your burning thighs to go faster. You felt clammy and hot all over, despite the freezing temperatures. “You know what I said.”

“Is this a prank?” He laughed, and you felt every nerve in your body set ablaze. “-or are you seriously apologizing?”

How was this funny?

Humiliation swallowed you whole. Your poor attempt at sincerity had been brushed off, despite the nerve you had worked up to do so. To hell with it all. If he wanted you to be annoying and high-strung, you would give it to him.

You turned to tell him off, to give him what he wanted.

But, as you stepped closer, your foot gave way underneath the slippery surface below you. You yelped as your foot twisted in the other direction, erupting in a searing, blinding pain.

Zoro was next to you in a flash.

Concern and shock laced his face as he carefully pulled you back to sit up. Jaw tightening as he wiped the snow from your face. The snow mingled with the tears that threatened to spill. You felt the heat radiating from Zoro’s body and fingers, soothing the burn on your cheeks. It was ridiculously comforting, and that thought unnerved you.

“Oi,” he brushed off your back and front, snow falling to the ground, “you good?”

You bit back the pain and blinked back the tears and ducked your head down. “Peachy.”

“Idiot,” He sighed, and his hand reached into his pocket. When did he get that? Before you can ask, your vision is darkened when you feel something pull over your eyes. “You need to watch where you’re going.”

“Hey!” You reached up, pulling the hat he had unceremoniously crowned you with above your brows. You were about to counter, how could you see anything underneath the snow? But the stormy look Zoro’s eye that pored over made you forget whatever you were about to say.

You shivered. He frowned, taking off the scarf you placed around his neck, draping back over yours. “You sure?”

Zoro's genuine question made you feel worse.

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sure I want to get out of the cold, hurry up.”

You stood up and tried to walk, wincing at the shooting pain with each step.

Zoro sighed, and began to walk with you.

Only after a handful of steps, your footing buckled again, but this time Zoro caught you before you could hit the snow. Suddenly, your feet weren’t touching the ground, swept up in his arms.

Zoro smacked his teeth, breath warming your numb ear. “Impossible.”

“Are you a broken record or something?” You mumbled, wiggling in his grasp.

Zoro shook his head, adjusting to make you comfortable, “I’ll keep saying it the more stupid shit you do.”

You said you were fine, but he wasn’t having it. Zoro motioned with his head for you to tell him a direction. You wordlessly point, trying not to think about his hands holding you to his chest.

As he walked, you see those same rosy splotches on his cheeks begin to darken again. You carefully wrapped the end of your scarf over his neck, and he stood straighter.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, glared down at you, his face close to yours.

“You’ll get cold too,” you murmured and turned away.

“I’m not, though.”

“Your face says otherwise,” You tugged on the side of the scarf still wrapped around your neck, adding some slack. “Don’t get yourself sick, or we’ll both freeze and die.”

His quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest and vibrates against your side. “You know, you’re the most positive person I know.”

“Haha, but really,” you turned to face him again, and Zoro was the one to turn away that time. “How does the cold not bother you?”

You watched him tilt his head up, contemplating the question for a moment before finally giving you an answer. “It’s a mind over matter for me. You’ll be surprised how things can change with a different mindset.”

You mulled over the thought as you admired his tenacity to be so unbothered. His lips pink and soft, the small clench of his chiseled jaw, the way the muscles of his neck peak from behind the scarf, stretching as he swallowed. You cleared your throat and leaned against his chest.

Just for heat, you told yourself, and your body relaxed a little in his gentle hold. His heartbeat was steady in your ears. You tried to ignore the thumb that traced tiny circles on the side of your knee.

A different mindset.

You looked up, Zoro’s earrings shimmered in the snow. He glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on your ogling. He looked back down at your finger that was lazily outstretched, using it as his guiding compass as he continued to walk.

If you ignored everything about the day, if Zoro was anyone else, you would have considered his actions sweet. Gentlemanly, even. You feel a slow heat bloom in your stomach, spreading warmth towards your ankle, soothing the ache.

Maybe he was onto something.

“Your scarf stinks. What did you spray on it?” And just like that, he dashed those kind thoughts from your mind.

“It doesn’t stink, it’s just a little perfume!” You scowled, craning your neck up at him. “You weren’t complaining earlier.”

“It’s making me nauseous, you don’t need that sweet shit.” He turned his nose upwards, averting the fabric that swaddled him. You hit his chest.

“I like it! Doing a lot of complaining and not enough walking.” You hit him again, harder this time as you continued to point.

“I should just leave you here to freeze.” You felt Zoro’s loosen his hold, and you slipped slightly in his hold. You clutched onto his shirt, screeching as you felt gravity threaten to pull you down.

“You ass! You wouldn’t dare-“

“-That’ll teach you to be nicer to your ride, hm?” His laugh is wicked.

Even though you grumble, you can’t stop the twitching in your lips. “I can’t wait to get away from you.”

AND END SCENE! Finally, thank the heavens that this part is done.

Not sure how I feel about this one, I started hating it in the middle of writing it because I didn’t have any real direction of how I wanted this to play out. This took very long to write because I realized I never gave a reason for their rivalry which took me forever to come up with. I still feel like zoro’s still ooc, but I feel like I learned a lot while writing this nonetheless.

Probably will pivot and try to get one of my sanji fics done now, but part 3 is already 60 percent completed.

thank you for your patience with me! school continues to kick me in the ass :’)

liked this? check out my other stuff :) - (x)

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Love To Watch You Leave: Part 3

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Eventual Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol, Military Inaccuracies

- Part 2 Here -

———————————

18+ Only

———————————

You and Bradley sat on your porch with a notepad and pen that Thursday, your legs crossed as you swung on the hanging bench and Bradley’s dangling as he balanced on the porch railing.




“Ok, soooo… rule number one can be, no kissing?” You suggested.




Bradley thought about it for a second, “Won’t that seem suspicious?” He asked.




You shrugged, “No I don’t think so, a lot of people don’t kiss in public.”




“Not even a little peck, just for show?” He made kissing sounds, his eyes closed as he leaned towards you.




You grimaced, your flat palm landing on his face and shoving him away.




“Stop messing around.”




“Jeez, sorry. Is it the moustache? I can shave it if you like.” You knew he was joking, but you were beginning to notice that adult Bradley wasn’t quite as unbearable or awful as young Bradley had been. That didn’t change the fact that you held some animosity for how he’d treated you. He still hasn’t apologised after all.




You gave him an exasperated look.




“Okay, okay… what’s rule number 2?” He held his hands up in defeat.




You tapped your pen against the note pad, “How about no talking badly about each other behind our backs? We’ve got to act like an actual couple after all, so don’t be too gooey, but… just say nice things?”




Bradley nodded, “To an extent. I mean normal couples still have their gripes. Like ‘oh he snores too much’ or ‘she spends all my money on shoes’.”




You wrote that down, “Yeah that’s true, ok so we’ll just be reasonable, but nothing too harsh, okay? We don’t wanna be ruining each others reputations.”




The two of you spent the next hour or so jotting down rules, and then Bradley got up to go home and pack last minute. He bounced down the steps and then turned back to look at you.




He had a small grin on his face, “So… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘babe’?”




You couldn’t help but grin, “Don’t be late, ‘honey’.”




——————————




The next day rolled around quickly, and you sprung out of bed and got yourself ready for the weekend ahead.




The drive was a good hour and a half so you threw on a t-shirt, your softest grey sweatshirt, some cycling shorts and your comfy white tennis shoes. You could change once you got there, but you didn’t want to get stuck in traffic wearing some uncomfortable dress.




After some light makeup, you brushed your teeth and your hair and put your bags by the front door.




“I’ll say bye now, mom. Bradley should be over in a few minutes.” You said, as she sat reading her book on the couch.




“Ok my love, have a good weekend. Let me know when you get there?”




You gave her a kiss on her head and squeezed her arm, “Will do. Love you mom.”




“Love you more!”




Bradley was only 2 minutes late, likely having overslept slightly, his hair still mussed and his voice deep and scratchy.




“Hey, sorry. Where are your bags?” He said, flustered as he jogged up the steps.




You grabbed them and handed one to Bradley.




Bradley held his other hand out for the second bag.




“I can take this one.” You insisted.




“No, starting now I’m your boyfriend, so… let me take your bags.” He held his palm out.




“Technically you’re not my boyfriend for another hour and a half, but… thank you.” You handed him the second bag and followed him to the Bronco.




The drive was mostly silent, but you preferred it that way. You liked to just listen to the music blaring over the radio while you watched the stunning scenery as you drove along the coast.




Every 10 minutes or so, one of you would say something along the lines of “can I skip this song?” Or “did you remember to pack your toothbrush?”




Eventually you pulled up outside of a huge beach house, made up of the larger main house and a second (still pretty large) guest house. It was surrounded by a sprawling green lawn that lead to a small cliff, the beach and ocean only a short few steps down the side.




“Wow.” You breathed, “I’m really nervous now.”




“Yeah, you’re telling me.” Bradley murmured as he looked up at the house.




“Ok, as soon as we step out of this car, we have to be nice to one another, got it?” You eyed him up.




“Yes, unfortunately.”




Climbing out of the car, you looked around at the many guests who had already arrived, sipping morning mimosas on the lawn and mingling, your stomach began to bubble with nerves.




Bradley grabbed all of the bags from the car just as the front door swung open.




Lieutenant Commander Harris came bounding down the front steps excitedly.




“Ah! My friends, how good to see you! Leave those, we’ll handle the bags. Go and grab yourself a drink.” He shook Bradley’s hand and pulled you in for a hug, far more friendly than you remembered.




You and Bradley stood awkwardly apart, and Harris eyed you up for a moment.




Suddenly Bradley remembered and he quickly stepped towards you, a heavy arm wrapping around your shoulder. You forced a smile and wrapped an arm around Bradley’s waist.




“Thank you again for having us! We’re very excited to meet everyone.” You lied.




Harris and what you could only imagine was either his Butler or a Caterer grabbed your bags, and he grinned up at you. “It’s going to be a great party! I’ll catch up with you both shortly.” And with that he disappeared into the guest house, leaving you and Bradley awkwardly holding one another.




“Let’s get this over with.” You sighed.




———————————




The first few hours passed without much incident. You and Bradley hadn’t had to touch each other much thanks to having to meet so many new people. Most of the morning compromised of walking around and introducing yourself to people and chit chatting in between mimosas. By lunch time, everyone had been seated at a very long table, all of the men on the one side and the women on the other, so you hadn’t had to keep up appearances then either. It was only by mid afternoon that you had to start acting.




Everyone had spread out on the lawn with more people arriving every hour, and after several drinks and different levels of drunkenness, people started to probe.




“So how long have you two been together?” Someone had asked.




“Uhh…” you hadn’t discussed your back story, shit.




You and Bradley answered at the same time.




“3 months-“

“-6 months.”




You looked at one another in horror, then Bradley chuckled, pulling you into his side.




“No, you’re right honey, I always lose track of time. 6 months.” He confirmed with a smile.




“Oh how adorable! So still in the honeymoon phase, huh?” The woman winked.




You laughed uncomfortably, “Yeah, we just… can’t get enough.”




Once the woman had left, you took a breather, “That was close. Maybe we should come up with a back story?”




“Yeah, how about-“ but Bradley was quickly interrupted as more people began to speak to you, and again the same arm came to wrap around your shoulder and the lies began to flow, you were worried you would lose track.




You excused yourself to go and grab a couple of drinks from the beverage table, leaving Bradley to mingle. You breathed out a heavy sigh under the bright decorative lighting, your nerves set, and you quickly downed a glass of white wine, grimacing at the taste but relishing the warmth that spread through you, before pouring another for sipping and grabbing Bradley a bottle of beer. You were about to turn around, when you heard the most grating voice you think you’ve ever had the displeasure of hearing. A super high pitched, squeaky giggle followed by, “Oh my lord, Bradley! What are you doing here?”




You turned around, already annoyed to find a stunning red head hanging off of Bradley’s arm. His face a picture of ‘oh hell, how do I get out of this’.




“Hey, Angie.” He pulled his arm from her tight grasp, his eyes shooting over to you.




You took the hint to hurry up and quickly walked over, handing Bradley his beer.




None of you said anything for a second, until Bradley stepped purposefully on your foot.




“Uh. Hey, honey. Who’s your friend?” You stumbled out.




“Y/N, sweetheart, this is Angie, my ex that I was telling you about?” He clenched his jaw.




Suddenly you felt hot, tiny tendrils of… jealously? No, annoyance, taking a hold of you.




“Ah yes, Annie-“




“Angie.” She corrected, her toothy smile all but gone now.




“Angie. Nice to finally meet you.” Your fake smile honed to perfection now. “Bradley has told me all about you.”




Awkward silence filled the air.




You nodded, “So… I guess we should probably go and change, right my… love?” Ooph, that one was more of a struggle to get out.




“Yes, you’re right! Almost forgot we were still in our peasant clothes.” He joked nervously.




You rolled your eyes as you turned around, taking Bradley’s hand and pulling him behind you towards the guest house, as Angie watched you disappear, an indiscernible look on her face.




As soon as you were inside your assigned bedroom, you slammed the door shut and pressed your back up against it.




“Ok that was a disaster. We need to get our story straight.” You planted a hand over your eyes as you panted anxiously.




“Hey, calm down, it wasn’t that bad.”

Bradley chuckled, walking up to you and pulling you in for a hug. Your face was buried in his chest, you calmed down for just a second, before realising how weird this was.




You pushed him off of you, “Why are you hugging me? We don’t hug.”




“Sorry, force of habit.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.




“Let’s just get showered and changed, hopefully everyone will be too drunk to notice our shoddy lies when we get back.”




You both took turns showering, and you slipped into your stunning yellow dress, redoing your makeup and hair.




Bradley stepped out of the bathroom in a billow of steam, towel wrapped around his waist.




You couldn’t help but stare at his wet pecks, and how drops of water trailed down into his v-line. You hadn’t realised how well Bradley had aged until now.




“You’re staring.” He smirked.




“Am not. Just wondering what kind of a state you’ve left the bathroom in.”




“Well, you look nice, you always did love yellow.” He stated, grabbing his dress pants and white shirt off the bed.




“And you know that how?” You chuckled, looking at him in the mirror as you swiped on some mascara.




“You always wore it, and your mom mentioned it once, I guess.”




You stood up straight and turned to face him, “Nice of you to remember. This doesn’t look too much?”




He shook his head, “No, you’ll fit right in. Your straps are uneven though.”




“Oh?” You tried to get a look over your shoulder but your view was obstructed and the mirror was too high to offer much help.




“Here, let me.” He said walking behind you. As he moved your hair over your shoulder, his fingers brushed softly against your skin, and again as he adjusted your dress straps, and you swore you felt the back of his knuckle gently brush down the length of your exposed back. You drew a sharp breath, annoyed that it had filled you with the tiniest amount of curiosity and pleasure.




“All done.” He said softly in your ear.




“Thanks.” You smiled awkwardly, turning to face him. “You’d better hurry up and get dressed, we’re gonna be late for dinner.”




Bradley nodded, taking a step back, “Just give me 5 minutes.”




——————————




Bradley was true to his word, and 5 minutes later he emerged from the bathroom. He looked handsome, you couldn’t deny it. He definitely wasn’t the lanky, dark haired, pale boy you hated throughout your childhood. At least not on the outside.




“You clean up good, Bradshaw.” You smiled, sticking your elbow out.




“Thanks ‘honey’, shall we get out there and lie our pants off?” He grinned, hooking his arm into yours.




“Please, please keep your pants on.”




Outside it had now gotten dark, and mostly everyone was dressed in their lovely evening attire, even the pretty red head with the annoying voice.




“Oh there you two are! I was starting to get lonely.” She pouted dramatically, hooking her arm through Bradley’s. Her red dress beautifully complimented her hair, you felt the slightest tinge of jealously, but quickly remembered Bradley wasn’t even yours in the first place.




“I’m just gonna go and top up our drinks.” You excused yourself and hurried away, unsure you could keep a straight face around Angie.




You could hear her giggling and chatting away, and you tried hard to busy yourself.




You suddenly felt a gentle bump into your side, and you looked up to see a very apologetic bespectacled man.




“Oh I’m so sorry ma’am! I… I didn’t see you, I think maybe I’ve had too many of these mimosas.” His slight Southern twang coming through.




You chuckled softly as you straightened up, “That’s okay, how many have you had?” You asked, your hand shooting out to steady him as he wobbled slightly.




“Three.” He replied sheepishly, his cute face scrunching up under his glasses.




“Is that all?” You giggled, “Want some water?” You began to pour some in a glass for him.




“Thank you. Probably a good idea. I don’t usually drink much, if you can’t already tell.” He took the glass from you and began sipping.




“I’m Bob. Sorry for bumping into you.” He said again, sticking out a hand.




You shook it, “I’m Y/N. It’s really no problem.”




Bradley suddenly appeared in between you and Bob, his arm wrapping around your satin waist.




“Hey beautiful, need a hand with our drinks?” He said a fraction louder than he needed to.




“Err… yeah, please.” You handed his drink to him, and you picked up two glasses of wine, one of which you’d give to Angie just to keep her mouth busy so she’d shut up.




“Nice to meet you Bob.” You smiled at him as Bradley lured you away, his big hand sprawled protectively across your lower back.




“And you!” Bob called, “Nice to see you again, Rooster.”




Bradley ignored him, and you looked up at his stoney expression with confusion.




“You know him? He’s cute. Maybe you can introduce us when this is all over.” You grinned playfully.




“No.” Bradley mumbled.




You stopped dead in your tracks, causing Bradley to do the same.




“What’s up with you, Brad?” You asked, looking up at him, holding out the glasses in your hands awkwardly.




“You’re not acting like a particularly good girlfriend right now, Y/N.”




“So? We’re breaking up tomorrow, remember? Plus, I’ve not been nearly as bad as you, with her hanging off of you since we got down here.”




“That’s not the point.” He said taking you by the crease of your arm and pulling you to a quiet corner of the lawn.




“Forget about Angie, I don’t care about her. We really need to make this believable, at least just for tonight. For the sake of our careers.” He was now towering over you, his head stooped low as he whispered.




“Okay. What do you want to do?” You whispered back. You could smell his cologne.




“Can we pretend to be more in love or something?” He smelt so good.




You nodded, “Yeah, okay. How?”




“I have an idea, do you trust me? I might need to break a rule.” This immediately snapped you out of the weird little trance you were in.




“Wait, which rule?”




Bradley took your wine glasses and put them on a nearby table with his beer bottle, then he returned and took your hand, pulling you out to the edge of the cliff.




“Which rule, Bradley? You aren’t going to throw me to my death, are you?” You were suddenly a little anxious, had this all just been a big ploy to exact his evil plan and get rid of you once and for all? Was he still just the same Bradley as before?




When he ignored you and came to stand on the small cliff edge, your heart began to race. “Seriously, what are you gonna do?”




He turned to face you with a small grin, “Just wait until more people look over and then… just trust me.”




Weirdly, despite everything, you sort of did trust him, so you nodded.




Bradley waited, and he watched over your shoulder, waiting for just the right amount of witnesses. He waited some more.




Just as you were getting fed up with waiting, Bradley’s big hands came up to cup your face, and you gulped.




Stooping over you, he dipped his head slowly and his full, soft lips landed on yours.




You gasped, probably audibly, but quickly you relaxed into it, realising it really wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be kissing Bradley.




After a few seconds, he pulled away just a fraction. “You need to move, people are gonna think I’m kissing a corpse.” He mumbled, a slight grin on his face. You realised you had been so surprised you hadn’t moved your arms and they lay by your side, dangling.




He pressed his lips back to yours, and you moved your arms to wrap around his neck as he leaned you back slightly.




There was some cat calling and whistling from the people out on the lawn, and one “Ohhh how romantic!”




Your face began to flush in embarrassment, so you pulled away and smoothed your dress out, before clearing your throat.




You looked at Bradley and nodded, “Thanks.”




You began to walk back to the party with Bradley on your tail, “Thanks?” He smirked.




“Yup, that’ll do it.” You flushed awkwardly, you couldn’t believe you had just kissed your life long nemesis, and what’s worse is that it really wasn’t bad, at all.




You quickly downed another glass of wine, hoping for a little Dutch courage. Bradley eyed you up and was just about to say something, when someone called him over. He looked at you once more, before he excused himself and you nodded, sort of relieved.




You turned to eye up the second drink, your legs somewhat wobbly from the breathtaking kiss, when Angie practically sprinted over to you, her face a mixture of anxiety and remorse.




You looked at her with wide eyes, surprised.




“Girl, I really really need to talk to you. In private.”




——————————




- Part 4 Here -

Taglist (please let me know if you wish to be added for future chapters):

@flowery-mess

@wildxwidow

[mangocustard16]

📁....Seventeen's reaction to having an actor/actress s/o₊˚🎬📼🎥✩｡

genre: fluff warnings: pet names, cursing lmk if i missed something w.c: 970 a/n: thank you! anon and I'm sorry i won't be covering another req that asked me to write about ghostface/scream cuz i already saw someone write about it<3 sorry anon!

#Seungcheol 

He is very supportive of your career and is proud of your accomplishments. He's clearing out his schedules to attend premieres, to silently cheer you on, and is not afraid to publicly express his admiration for your talent. Would casually appear during your shootings with your favorite flowers and snacks for everyone. "Babe! Aren't you supposed to be on the other side of the country?" "No, I'm supposed to be wherever you are."

#Jeonghan 

Oh boy! he's taking tips, no jokes. He's got his notepad out and is ready to jot down directions and suggestions. He is ready to polish his acting skills which will come in helpful when bluffing others during the mafia game.  Bonus: he shares the prizes he wins from "Going Seventeen Mafia Games" with you. "Hannie that's the third Dyson air wrap you've won this year!"

#Joshua 

Your supportive lil' boy. He helps you practice your lines and gives valuable advice. Everything flows smoothly until you reach a scene involving a kiss. joshua.exe has stopped functioning. He's momentarily frozen, and you can't help but wonder if he's even breathing. He had anticipated a kiss scene cuz you were the main lead, but it still bothered him a little to see you kiss someone else who is not him. But he's definitely not insecure or anything, just a peculiar sensation. And for the cure, just kiss the living daylights out of him so hard that he forgets the world except for you.

#Junhui 

Well....he's an actor himself, so it's quite obvious that he's exceptionally proud of you. He's shamelessly promoting your movie/drama every chance he gets. Dedicates an entire Weibo live suggesting your movies and dramas to carats while explaining the plot in great detail. "You know The Dreamcatcher's plot twist caught me so hard that I almost fell off my seat"

#Hoshi

He wants to accompany you everywhere – to set, to your trailer as you practice your lines, to premieres and other events. He adores the world you live in and wishes to learn more about it. He tried out acting(a period drama) and continued talking in that manner for days. "What an interesting food this is, 'twixt two buns lies a delicacy that-" "It's just a burger calm down."

#Wonwoo 

He would be so proud of you. He'll be your silent cheerleader. When the two of you are alone, he will lavishly compliment your acting and take you out to a lovely meal to celebrate the premiere. So, while it may not appear to others that he makes a big deal out of it, you'll know how proud he is.

#Woozi

Please DO NOT bring him to events – Woozi almost blends in with the numerous cameramen and women, his own phone in hand as he photographs picture after picture of you as you go into the premiere of your new film — he's a very proud boyfriend, after all. "Look here! babe. Damn you look so good"

#Seokmin

He is gonna hype you up so much omg. He like, Jun, won’t hesitate to promote your movie every chance he gets. His darling is building a name for themselves, and he'll be damned if he doesn't do everything he can to help them. He's always bugging Carats to go see the latest movie. Whenever you watch the movie alone, he will be more sincere and serious in his compliments. "No problem, carats! If you've already seen the film, you should go watch it two more times."

#Mingyu

He'd be captivated by your performance and would shove his face very close to the screen every time you appeared. And, while he may not shamelessly promote you as some of the other members do, he will certainly speak highly of you and your acting abilities to everyone he knows. That's all he talks about when he's out with his '97 liner buddies. Literally. "Y/n had to act like they had not found the killer while sitting right beside them. They are so cool!"

#Minghao 

Minghao is buying the CD regardless of whether he could simply ask you for a copy of the movie you're in or even if he's seen it hundreds of times. He is one of your biggest fans; he owns all of your movies, has seen all of your shows, and knows all of your interviews by heart.  "Are you watching y/n’s movies again? Aren’t you tired?" "Fuck off"

#Seungkwan

He actually got to know you during an event promoting your latest drama. He's your biggest fanboy, watching every drama/movie you've ever starred in, and bombarding you with compliments. Winces slightly whenever he sees you kiss a fellow actor on screen. "So your type is Song Jung" "Come on!! Stop sulking, we filmed that 6 years ago" 

#Vernon

Leaves 15-line reviews on your movies complimenting your acting skills. He is always pulling out your movies during movie night and doesn't understand why wouldn't wanna watch your own movie for the nth time again. "Babe, we have watched Wandering Dreams more than 20 times" "So, do you wanna watch 'Written in Sand'?" *dies* Bonus: All the movies you've starred in receive an obvious 5-star rating.

#Chan

He'd be so freaking excited! It wouldn't be strange to spend endless nights practicing your lines with him. Coffee would be essential for those nights, as the caffeine would keep you up as you practiced. And whenever someone pointed out how much the critics praised you, he'd say, "Yeah, of course, my love did amazing." It's as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

BONUS:: Sends coffee trucks to the set during shooting: Minghao, Seungkwan, Jeonghan, Joshua ♡

[jollyhunter]

♡Dean Birthday Prompt-Game♡

Before we dive into the prompt game... Please, take a short 20 minutes break and just sit down in the backseat of Baby. Imagine, it. It's Dean's birthday and it's just you, Dean and Sam. On the road. You sleeping in the backseats, the rain's soothing pitter-patter, Dean's music playing in the background, Baby purring under your feet.

Put those headphones in, close your eyes and just... feel it. ♡

... And when Dean wakes you to sing, I want you to sing. (I'm serious)

. . .

Now that you are settled in, here's the prompt along the video:

It's just the same damn day like any other, right?

Today Dean turns 31. Finally a good reason to celebrate.

Or so you had it planned out in your head. But, of course you three just had to take up a 2 weeks hunt at the arse-end of the world. And now you're stuck on a 3-days drive back home, doomed to yet again spend this special day, like any other.

On the road. With the sky pissing down on you with no end in sight (Dean's words). Folded into the backseat between instant coffee and greasy takeaway burgers (Sam's words). Cooped up in some weird banana themed motel room with little to no privacy (...your words). Not that any of this would have bothered you any other day. But for you, today wasn't any other day. And for once - just for once - you actually hoped you'd get something... different. Something special.

It was Dean's birthday after all. And that by itself was a miracle, seeing as he'd been in Hell not too long ago.

And although he was physically back, you could sense that parts of him were still downstairs. Still trapped in a never ending nightmare you knew nothing about, because he just. won't. talk.

You just wanted to see Dean smile again. Feel his hearty laughter fill your chest like a hot cocoa that makes your heart flutter and your cheeks burn up. Watch those green pools twinkle with genuine joy as they get nudged up by that Cheshire smile.

But as of right now, things looked anything but.

Worst of all? Dean didn't even seem to mind. It's like he didn't even acknowledge the fact that he was turning a year older today.

The lights of an occasional passer-by vehicle flashes by your shut eyes and then fades back into the darkness. The interior of Baby is dimly lit and only the soft glow of the street lights from passing towns and the dashboard illumination light the silhouette of the two brothers in the front seats.

Dean's sipping lazily from his coffee mug while driving, his fingers on the steering wheel idly tapping along the beats of the song of Zep's Ramble On that's competing against the rhythmic drumming of the droplets on the roof. Meanwhile the sound of rustling newspapers comes from the passenger seat.

Sam sighs, occasionally adding to the oddly comfortable atmosphere with his pen jotting down notes and shuffling through papers.

When Dean spots a motel sign, he quickly pulls the car over and parks it right in front of the main entrance. Green eyes dart up at the rear view mirror, checking on your sleeping form in the backseat before he turns to head out, his voice a low mutter to not wake you. „I‘ll check it out.“

Minutes later, the door opens and Dean climbs back in, letting out a deep sigh before quickly shutting it closed again behind him and shaking off some of the wetness from his jacket and hair. Sam's still engrossed in his research, barely looking up when his brother starts up the car again and grunts, “The place is full.”

“Damn it.” Sam mutters, putting down the notebook he was writing in, “Not even a single other motel for miles. Guess that means we’re stuck in the car for the night.”

"All three of us? That's gonna be cramped as hell." Dean mutters in annoyance while the wheels screech in protest from being manoeuvred back to the road.

Dean briefly turns back to face you still being fast asleep in the backseat and his face instantly softens. His lips curl into a soft smile when he reaches over the bench's backrest to pat your knee, "Hey, sleepyhead, wake up. Looks like we need to huddle up for the night."

HERE'S THE IDEA: Continue the story yourself; how would you try to save Dean's birthday? How would you make the best of it? What's your theme? Mostly fluff? Spontaneous birthday-hunt? Or will you dive into the angst? Or get Sam somehow out of the car so you can get a little frisky with Dean? You get the point. Go crazy.

Reblog and add yours, or post your own and tag me! There’s no deadline for this!

The prompt is set right after the end of the video. But you may of course jump into the story wherever you want. Have fun sweethearts!

A/N: Not to sound dramatic but creating this ambience / intro sound video, or whatever I shall call it, cost me an arm and a leg. And at some point I had to sell my soul to Crowley to get it done. Additionally, I wanted fitting dividers as well so I did those too, lol I went full in for our boy's birthday. And I wanted to do something fun for everyone!

So please, consider commenting and reblogging if you liked it ♡

Dean Tags:

@aylacavebear @jc-winchester

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 6)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist with secrets of her own. he becomes determined to break through the walls adeline has built around herself. but some wounds don't heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: it took a while but here it is! brace yourselves for some slow burning love hehe 🤍 also, comment if you want to be on the next tag list!

word count: 3.7k

warnings: nothing but fluff.

next: chapter 7

tag list: @avalentina

Mason exhaled sharply as he finished another set of exercises, rolling his shoulders before leaning back against the couch. “Two weeks in, and I still feel like an old man.” he muttered, reaching for the water bottle beside him.

Adeline, standing with her arms crossed, glanced at him with little sympathy. “Maybe if you stopped complaining and actually focused, you’d feel less like one.”

He scoffed, taking a sip of water. “I am focusing.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Sure.”

Mason shook his head, setting the bottle down. “You know, you’re a real hard-ass.”

Adeline didn’t react. “That’s my job.”

“Yeah, but I bet you’re not like this all the time.” he said, tilting his head as he studied her. “Like, what do you even do outside of torturing me?”

She barely glanced at him. “You’re not that special, Mount. I ‘torture’ other people, too.”

He let out a short laugh. “Right. But seriously, what do you do when you’re not here?”

Adeline sighed, clearly reluctant to entertain this. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I feel like I know nothing about you.” he pointed out. “And I don’t think that’s fair, considering you know every single weakness in my knee.”

That earned him a slight twitch of her lips, but she covered it quickly.

Mason smirked, encouraged. “So? What’s the last film you watched?”

“Something animated, probably.” Adeline exhaled through her nose, shaking her head.

“Animated?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” she said simply, jotting something down in her notes. “I like them.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Right, so you’re one of those people who cries at Toy Story 3.”

“Like you didn’t.” She shot him a sharp look.

“I never said that.” Mason laughed, caught off guard.

Adeline shook her head, but he caught the way the corners of her mouth twitched. It was the closest thing to a smile he had seen from her in two weeks, and for some reason, it felt like a small victory.

But, Mason wasn’t done yet.

“Alright, next question.” he said, shifting on the couch as she reset the resistance band for his next exercise. “Favourite food?”

Adeline didn’t even glance up. “Why?”

“Because, I need to know whether or not I can trust your taste.” he said seriously.

“I don’t know. Pasta, I guess.” She let out a slow breath.

He nodded in approval. “Alright, safe choice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Great. I passed your test.”

“Another one.” he continued, ignoring her pointed look. “You’re in a pub, right? What’s your go-to drink?”

Adeline hesitated, adjusting the band in her hands. “Martini.”

Mason grinned. “Classic.”

“Are you done interrogating me now?” She ignored him.

“One more.” He considered.

Adeline shot him a look. “Mason—”

“C’mon, Adeline.” he pressed.

“Fine.” She sighed.

He leaned back slightly, studying her. “What’s something that always makes you smile?”

For the first time, Adeline faltered. Just for a second. She opened her mouth, as if she had an answer, but then quickly shook her head.

“You’re out of time, Mount.” she said, cutting him off before he could push further. “Back to work.”

Mason studied her for a moment, sensing there was more to her than she let on.

But, before he could say anything else, her phone buzzed loudly on the table. Adeline glanced at it quickly and frowned.

“Stella?” she said, her tone sharp with concern.

Mason wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but he didn’t have to. She was standing right there, pacing slightly as she listened.

“What?” Adeline stopped mid-step, pressing her palm against her forehead. “No, no, of course. Thank you for calling me. Is she okay?”

Mason straightened slightly at that, his grip tightening around his phone.

Adeline let out a sharp breath, nodding to herself. “Yeah, I’ll figure something out. Thanks for taking care of her, Ella.” A pause. “I know. I will.”

She hung up with a sigh, rubbing her temple before finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s going on?” Mason asked, setting his phone down.

Adeline hesitated, then exhaled. “There’s a storm—like, a bad one. It’s hitting the whole city. Stella just called to tell me the roads are a mess, and they’re advising people to stay home.”

Mason frowned, glancing toward the window. The rain was hammering against the glass in thick sheets, and the wind had picked up, making the trees outside sway aggressively.

Adeline tucked her phone away and grabbed her jacket. “I need to go.”

Mason’s frown deepened. “You can’t go with this weather.”

“I have to, Mason.” she argued, already slipping her arms through the sleeves. “Lily’s waiting for me.”

Mason stood up. “Adeline, be serious. It’s dangerous out there.”

“She needs me.”

“And she needs you safe.” he shot back. “You think she’d want you driving through a bloody storm just to prove a point?”

Adeline froze for a second, like the thought hadn’t fully settled in yet.

Mason sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You don’t like feeling out of control, but this isn’t about that. It’s one night. Stay here. Lily is safe with Stella, and in the morning, when the roads are clear, you go home.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to intrude—”

“You won’t.” Mason cut her off. “I have a guest room. Use it.”

Adeline hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek. He could see her brain working, trying to find another way.

Mason softened his tone. “Adeline, c’mon. You know I’m right.”

“Fine. Just for tonight.” She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. Finally, she let her shoulders drop.

“Good. I’ll set up the guest room.” Mason nodded, relieved.

“Didn’t think you’d be so insistent.” Adeline gave him a long look, then smirked slightly.

“Yeah, well. Maybe I just don’t want to be responsible for my physiotherapist getting struck by lightning.” Mason shrugged, turning toward the hallway.

(…)

Adeline sat at the table, arms crossed, watching Mason move around the kitchen with an ease that surprised her. He was focused, stirring a simmering pot on the stove, occasionally glancing at her with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

She had no idea what to do with this version of him — the one who wasn’t being difficult, wasn’t pushing back against therapy, wasn’t rolling his eyes when she told him to do another set of exercises. Instead, he was cooking. For her.

And worse? He was good at it.

“I didn’t take you for someone who actually cooks.” she said, trying to fill the silence.

Mason glanced over his shoulder. “Why? Because I’m a footballer?”

“Something like that.” She shrugged.

“Wow. Judging me already.” He scoffed, tossing freshly chopped basil into the sauce.

Adeline rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t ignore the way the kitchen smelled incredible — garlic, tomatoes, basil, something rich and warm.

“What exactly are you making?” she asked, shifting in her seat.

Mason’s smirk deepened. “Pasta.”

At first, she didn’t think much of it. But then, something clicked. Her brows pulled together.

“Wait…” She narrowed her eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?” He stirred the sauce, completely unfazed.

“My favorite food.” she accused. “You remembered.”

Mason hesitated just slightly before turning off the stove. “Maybe.”

Adeline stared at him, unsure how to respond to that. He wasn’t flirting — not really. There was no teasing lilt in his voice, no smugness like he was expecting her to swoon over the fact that he remembered some small, insignificant thing about her.

And that was the problem. He wasn’t trying. He was just… being Mason.

“Still doesn’t mean I trust you with it.” She looked away, suddenly feeling the need to regain control.

“Fair. But you’ll see.” Mason laughed.

(…)

Adeline twirled the pasta on her fork, eyeing Mason skeptically before taking a bite.

She chewed slowly. Too slowly.

Mason leaned forward, elbows on the table, watching her with a smirk. “Well?”

She swallowed. Paused.

“It’s… edible.” she said, deliberately neutral.

Mason scoffed, feigning offense. “Edible? That’s all I get?”

She took another bite, betraying herself. It was good. More than good, actually. The kind of warm, comforting food she hadn’t had time to cook for herself in years. But admitting that felt dangerous, like giving Mason the upper hand in a game she wasn’t sure she was playing.

“You like it.” He grinned knowingly.

“I didn’t say that.” Adeline huffed.

“You didn’t have to.”

Before she could argue, a deafening crack of thunder shook the house.

Adeline jumped. It was instinct, her body’s automatic reaction, the way her fingers curled slightly against the table.

Mason noticed.

“You good?”

She straightened, forcing a shrug. “It’s just a storm.”

He didn’t press, just tilted his head like he was filing that information away.

Then, as if on cue, the lights flickered — once, twice — before going out completely.

The room was plunged into darkness.

Adeline exhaled sharply. “Oh, c’mon.”

“Perfect.” Mason muttered.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sounds were the rain hammering against the windows and the distant rumble of thunder rolling through the sky.

“Do you have candles?” Adeline shifted, trying to adjust to the darkness.

“Yeah, I think—”

She took a step.

So did he.

They collided.

It wasn’t just a light bump. She practically stumbled into him, and suddenly, Mason’s hands were at her waist, steadying her, and her palms were pressed against his chest.

A beat of silence.

They weren’t moving.

Adeline’s pulse skittered.

It was ridiculous — completely unintentional — but for a moment, all she could focus on was the solid warmth of him, the way his breath hitched slightly, the way they were close. Too close.

“Uh—” Mason started, but his voice was quieter now, uncertain.

Adeline swallowed, stepping back immediately. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, no, it’s—” He cleared his throat. “Let me find those candles.”

She exhaled, rubbing her temples as he moved away, his presence still somehow lingering in the space between them.

Within a minute, Mason returned, striking a match. The small flame flickered to life, casting a soft glow as he lit the candles and set them on the table.

The warm, golden light illuminated the room — and her.

Mason glanced up and… didn’t look away.

Adeline’s face was turned slightly, her features softened by the candlelight, the sharp lines of her usual guarded expression smoothed into something quieter.

He caught himself staring.

Look away, idiot.

He didn’t.

Instead, he shifted, rubbing the back of his neck, forcing a smirk. “Well, at least now I can see the exact moment you admit my pasta is amazing.”

Adeline’s gaze flicked to him, and for the first time all night, she almost — almost — smiled.

(…)

The guest room was far nicer than she expected. Warm-toned walls, soft lighting, and a neatly made bed that looked far too inviting. The duvet was thick and plush, extra pillows stacked against the headboard, and there was even a folded blanket at the foot of the bed. It was obvious Mason had put effort into making it comfortable for her.

Still, comfort didn’t settle the unease sitting in her chest.

Adeline sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly. The rain lashed against the windows, the wind howled through the streets, and every few minutes, a deep rumble of thunder shook the house. She curled her fingers around the duvet, grounding herself as another crack of lightning split the sky outside.

She wasn’t scared of storms. Not really.

But she hated the way they made her feel — small, vulnerable.

And tonight, the vulnerability was doubled.

It was the first night she had ever spent away from Lily. She knew she was safe with Stella, but the distance gnawed at her, the absence of her daughter’s tiny weight beside her unfamiliar and disorienting. She couldn’t count the number of times Lily had snuck into her bed in the middle of the night, curling up against her for warmth.

Now, Adeline was the one in need of warmth.

She tugged at the hem of her shirt, regretting her choice of clothing. She hadn’t exactly planned on sleeping over at Mason Mount’s house. She had left her flat in a simple long-sleeved top and leggings, something comfortable enough to work in but definitely not warm enough for this storm. The power was still out, and the temperature in the house had dropped, the cold air creeping through the walls.

She got up, searching through the drawers in the guest room, but they were empty. Not even a spare blanket. Her fingers twitched at her sides. She really, really didn’t want to ask Mason for anything.

But she was freezing.

Adeline sighed, dragging a hand down her face before stepping out of the room. Mason’s door was slightly ajar, candlelight flickering through the gap. She hesitated for a moment before lightly rapping her knuckles against the wood.

“Mason, do you have—”

Her words caught in her throat.

Mason stood near his dresser, his back turned to her, his broad shoulders illuminated by the soft, golden light. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Adeline had seen plenty of athletes shirtless before — she worked in physiotherapy, it came with the job — but this was different.

Maybe it was because she had never allowed herself to notice before.

Her gaze flickered over the strong lines of his back, the way the muscles shifted when he moved. Then her eyes fell to his arms, tracing the dark ink that contrasted against his skin. She had noticed his tattoos before, in passing, but she had never really looked at them. The designs flowed together seamlessly — quotes, symbols, intricate details that all seemed to mean something.

Mason turned slightly, running a hand through his hair, and she caught sight of the tattoo on his ribs, peeking out just beneath his arm.

Something unfamiliar twisted in her stomach.

She needed to stop staring.

Clearing her throat, she forced her gaze back up. “It’s, um—” She exhaled sharply, trying to pull herself together. “It’s freezing. Do you have a hoodie or something?”

Mason turned fully now, reaching for the dresser. “Sure.” He pulled out a hoodie and walked over to her, offering it without hesitation.

Adeline reached for it, but as he handed it over, their fingers brushed — warm and solid against hers.

She inhaled sharply. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. But for some reason, she pulled away quicker than necessary, gripping the hoodie tightly.

Mason tilted his head slightly. “You know, I was about to offer you a blanket, but I feel like you’d rather freeze than accept too much help from me.”

His tone was light, almost amused, but there was a softness in the way he said it.

Adeline huffed. “I don’t mind help.”

Mason smirked. “Right.” Then, after a pause, he added. “You know, if this storm keeps up, I might have to start charging you rent.”

Despite herself, a small exhale of amusement slipped through her nose. “I’ll be out of your way as soon as possible.”

Mason held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, if you see me bringing out a lease agreement tomorrow, don’t be surprised.”

Adeline shook her head, clutching the hoodie tighter against her chest. “Thanks for this, though.” she said, nodding toward the fabric.

Mason gave her a small smile. “Anytime.”

She turned quickly, retreating to the guest room before anything else could be said.

Once inside, she shut the door and leaned against it, her heartbeat uneven.

Ridiculous.

With a sigh, she pulled the hoodie over her head. It was oversized, the fabric soft and slightly worn-in, fitting far too comfortably around her.

Then she noticed it. The scent.

Her fingers curled into the sleeves instinctively as she caught the faint traces of cedarwood and something distinctly him. It was clean, warm, familiar in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

And she hated that she liked it.

Swallowing hard, she shook her head, climbing into bed and pulling the duvet tightly over herself.

But even as the rain continued to pour outside and the thunder rumbled in the distance, it wasn’t the storm that kept her awake.

(…)

Sleep wasn’t happening. Not even close.

Mason had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, his body exhausted but his mind refusing to shut off. His leg still ached slightly from the session earlier, but that wasn’t the reason he was wide awake.

She was.

Adeline was in the next room. Sleeping under his roof for the first time. And somehow, that fact had planted itself in his brain and refused to leave.

He wasn’t sure why it mattered. Maybe because, for the past few weeks, he’d only seen her in controlled emotions — either at the hospital or in his home for their sessions. But now, there was something different about the air between them. The way she let herself be just a little less guarded. The way she let him take care of her in small, quiet ways.

And the way she let him see her scared.

Mason sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He didn’t know what it was about her that got under his skin so much. Maybe it was the fact that he’d spent the last month being an absolute pain in her ass, and now he was starting to feel like he wanted to make up for it.

Another deep rumble of thunder rolled through the sky, shaking the windows. He glanced toward them, exhaling. The storm wasn’t letting up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to sleep — until something caught his attention.

Footsteps.

Soft ones, barely audible over the rain.

Mason sat up slightly, listening. Another crash of thunder came, louder this time, and then a shadow moved past his door.

Frowning, he pushed the covers off and swung his legs over the bed. He didn’t have to guess who it was.

When he stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, the soft glow of candlelight flickering in the living room revealed exactly what he suspected.

She was curled up on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, sleeves of his hoodie gripped tightly in her fists. Her face was turned toward the window, her expression unreadable, but when the next crack of thunder hit, he caught the subtle way she flinched.

“Can’t sleep?” Mason leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms.

Adeline startled slightly, turning toward him. She recovered quickly, straightening her spine like she hadn’t just jumped.

“Storm’s loud.” she muttered.

“That’s why you’re sitting here alone?” Mason hummed, stepping closer.

“It’s… quieter in a way.” She shrugged, her gaze flicking back to the window.

“Right. Totally makes sense.” He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“You’re really annoying sometimes, you know that?” Adeline huffed, shaking her head.

“I’ve been told.” Mason smirked.

Another deep rumble of thunder crashed above them, rattling the windows. This time, she couldn’t mask the way she tensed, her fingers gripping the hoodie even tighter.

He noticed. And this time, he didn’t ignore it.

Mason hesitated for just a moment before grabbing the blanket draped over the back of the couch. Moving slowly, he sat down beside her, close enough that their legs brushed, the warmth of her body radiating through the small space between them.

Adeline stiffened slightly at first, her breath hitching, but she didn’t pull away.

She only glanced at him, wary but not rejecting the gesture.

“Relax, I’m not going to steal all the warmth.” Mason smiled, nudging her knee with his.

“You already did. It’s your blanket.” Adeline huffed, but there was no real bite to it.

He chuckled under his breath, shifting slightly to adjust the fabric around her shoulders. His fingers brushed against her arm as he did, the contact brief but enough to make something settle in his chest — something warm, something that felt different from the usual banter between them.

She didn’t pull away.

Didn’t tense like she normally would.

Instead, she let out a quiet exhale, fingers curling into the sleeves of his hoodie like she was grounding herself.

Mason watched her for a moment, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows against her face. There was something about seeing her like this — unguarded, not fighting him at every turn — that made him hesitate, just for a second, before reaching up and tugging the blanket higher over her shoulder. His knuckles grazed her collarbone, slow and unintentional, but neither of them moved away.

“Better?” he asked, voice quieter now.

“A little.” Adeline still didn’t look at him right away. But eventually, she nodded.

Her voice was softer than he expected, and it did something to him.

Mason swallowed, dragging his gaze away from her face before he let himself stare too long. “Well.” he said, shifting like he needed to distract himself. “That’s progress.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh, the first real one of the night, and Mason barely resisted the urge to smile.

Another rumble of thunder rolled through the sky, louder this time. She flinched, not as much as before, but enough for him to notice. And this time, he didn’t think — he just moved.

His arm lifted slightly, hesitating only for a moment before settling across the back of the couch behind her. He didn’t touch her — not really — but it was close enough that if she wanted the reassurance, it was there.

She didn’t lean into it, but she didn’t pull away either.

Instead, she sat there, gripping the sleeves of his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping her there. And Mason, despite himself, found that he didn’t mind.

“Look.” he said after a beat, keeping his voice light, “If you were scared, you could’ve just said so.”

Adeline turned her head, shooting him a glare that, this time, had no real heat behind it. “I’m not scared.”

“Right. That’s why you jumped five inches off the couch a second ago.”

“You’re impossible.” She said, shooking her head.

“And yet, here you are.” He let out a breath, something like amusement flickering in his expression.

Something about that made her chest feel lighter.

Another deep rumble of thunder shook the windows, but this time, Adeline didn’t flinch as much as before.

Maybe it was the blanket.

Maybe it was the warmth between them.

Maybe it was just the fact that, for the first time in a while, she wasn’t dealing with it alone.

Whatever it was, something had shifted between them.

And Mason felt it.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the urge to run from it.

(…)

[junedenim]

breathe or steal a kiss

stuck in a small town with big things

warnings: blowjob, piv, texas, etc.

word count: 4.9k

He's in some diner in nowhere Texas. He's tired of driving and his stomach has been growling for the last hour, hungry for something other than stale pretzels. He's rubbing his eyes, desperate for them to not feel heavy. He's got 3 hours until Dallas and is determined to make it tonight.

When his eyes open, that blur fades and it's like a vision appears, an oasis in this desert he's driven through. You stand in your bell-bottom jeans, apron tied at your waist, with a red tank top. You're chewing gum and pulling out your check pad, not bothering to make eye contact with him until you click your pen. "What can I get for you, hon?"

That burger he was planning to get fades from his mind as your eyes land on his and send shockwaves down his spine. A feeling twists around him and a buzz runs through him. "Uh," he speaks as he looks down at the menu. "You got Coke?"

You smile and nod your head, obviously amused by his flustered nature. "Yeah, we got Coke."

"I'll—I'll take a Coke," he manages to get out.

You jot that down on the pad. "You want anything with that Coke?"

"Oh, uh, burger. Cheeseburger."

Your eyes are busy looking at your pen skim across the page but his eyes can't escape your face. "How would you like it?"

"I guess, well done. Do you have American cheese?"

You finally look back up at him, zapping him with your gaze. Your mouth slowly opens with a grin peeking through. "Are you British?"

He doesn't know how else to respond so he just nods slowly.

"I'm sorry for obsessing. We just don't get many British people down here. A Brit wanting American cheese." You return to writing on the pad about the cheese. "What brings you to this diner?"

"A little roadtripping. Tired from the road," he explains.

"Yeah, that's most people out here." You gaze around the room observing the other patrons. Most of them are old. Couples coming in for the early bird special. There's one family in the corner and a man drinking coffee at the counter. He's the only sore thumb. "Other than the regulars. Small town and all that." 

Alex doesn't mean to be rude just staring at you but he's worried he's made you self-conscious as you drop your hands from your hips and stare back at your notepad. "Anything else?" You ask. He shakes his head and hands you his menu. "I'll be right back with your Coke."

And he watches you walk away. That movement in your hips and a bandana sticking out the back pocket of your jeans. He originally blamed the fast beating of his heart on horniness but your cute country twang and your crooked teeth peeking out of your smile makes him think otherwise. It's not just lust. It's affection too.

You come back with a bottle of Coke with the lid popped off and a straw. "There you go."

"Thank you," he says. There's a pull that makes him talk before you leave, urging him to strike up some conversation. "Are you from here?"

You nod. "Whole life. Same house."

"Is there anything going on tonight?" It's the closest he can come to asking you out because part of him knows he should be back on the road within the hour but the other part begs him to stay even if he shouldn't because he'll have to leave eventually.

"There's always dancing if you want a proper Texan night," you tell him. "Well, proper Texan night for me."

He smiles at the smile that cracks on your face. "You like dancing?"

"Oh, I love it. Everyone gets into it, especially in this little community." He can imagine you, shaking your bum, enticing him into your grip.

Alex risks it and asks, "Can I take you out dancing tonight?"

Based on the grin that shoots across your face, he thinks he didn't go too far. "A British man wants to take me dancing. We'd be the talk of the town."

"You really must have nothing going on at this time if I'm going to be the talk of it."

"You'd be right, but..." You shake your head, looking down at him with a glowing stare. "I think you'd be the talk of the town anywhere."

He's blushing, bowing his head at the compliment, not expecting this over a Coke when he looks like he's been hit by a car and dragged for 10 blocks. "You must be the talk of the town then. A girl like you." He'd whistle if he could.

You giggle and cover your mouth with your hand. All cutesy, making his bones shutter. "You'd be surprised. I better bring the check to that table but I get off at 7 if you want to pick me up then."

It's 5 o'clock and he's got no fucking clue where he's going to sleep tonight. "I'd like to stay here if that's alright. I've got nowhere else to be."

"Alright, then."

He watches you the rest of your shift and he isn't subtle about it. His stare blazes and he might have looked down your shirt when he dropped his burger off. He'd call himself a perv if you didn't look him up and down in the same manner, desperate to know more about each other.

Then, suddenly at 7, after he's just paid for his meal, you come out from the backroom in a top and skirt polka dot set and cowboy boots. "I'm off, Sheila!" You shout to your co-worker. 

He watches the fabric brush against your skin as you exit from behind the counter with a denim jacket thrown over one arm and a cowboy hat held in the other. "For you, sir." You offer him the hat, placing it on his head, and fitting it down until it sits perfectly. "To look more the part."

"You certainly look the part." He doesn't know what to call you. Beautiful, hot, pretty, sexy, fuckable. It's all just a blur and he wants to reach out and take a chunk of your long hair behind your ear but he doesn't want to cross anything. He wants you to show him the ropes.

You walk outside, the heels of your boot and the soles of his shoes pushing the pebble-rock-filled parking around. "Oh." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Your tip." It's crisp $20 and a way bigger tip than his $9 meal.

You shake your head, handing the money back to him. "I can't take that. You're taking me out already. It wouldn't be right."

"It wouldn't feel right not to tip you," Alex tells you. He pushes the bill back into your hands.

The corners of your mouth turn up but you once again return the $20. "You're a kind gentleman but I can't take your money."

He accepts this and puts his wallet away. "I'll use it on drinks then."

The drive there is short—no more than 5 minutes. The town is small but he gets the feeling everyone is here tonight as the parking lot is full when you arrive and the noise bleeding out the bar has no competition with any city bar he's been to.

People are already stumbling out drunk when the two of you walk in and you're quickly greeted by a friend who smells like she just chugged a whole keg of beer. "This is Alex," you introduce, grabbing his shoulder, already making him flushed. "He's British."

"That's so cool!" She shouts. She's soon grabbed by her boyfriend as the two hit the dance floor.

"Are you going to introduce me as British to everyone?" He asks, charmed by your excitement over him.

"Why? You planning to hide it?"

He's laughing as you tug him over to the bar and demand 2 whiskeys from the bartender. You must know him as you know everyone because he quickly serves you two, passing over the other vendors. 

You down your drink in one go, clearly a pro and eager for a drink after a long day of work. "You ready to dance?"

He's still nursing his glass, having barely taken a sip. "I'm not very good."

You giggle. "You asked me out dancing and you're not very good? What were you planning on doing?"

He can't blame the alcohol; there's barely any in his system. He'll blame his hormones for the urge that possesses him to lean down and kiss you. It's by no means a sweet kiss. It's a lustful one with pent-up horniness that he's had since the beginning of this trip along with a complete desire for you.

You accept it completely. You tilt your head back and let him dominate your mouth, let him take control completely. He rounds his arms around you, pulling you into him, arching your back, pressing your hips right into his. It's a clearly desperate message that he's hoping you accept.

Soon, but not too soon, he releases your lips, your hips still dug against his. "I think you're probably much better at kissing than dancing."

He lets out a breathy chuckle. "You'd be right."

You pull him close, hugging him to you, your lips up against his ear. "If you dance with me, I'll let you watch me ride the bull." His eyes dart over to the mechanical bull in the corner and even with a fat old man riding on it, all the blood has suddenly left his head and rushed down and he thinks he'll pass out any second now. You pull back. "How's that sound?"

He nods dumbly as you drag him to the floor, drink still in his hand with a stunned look across his face. Luckily for him, it's not some organized line dancing although certain groups have formed and certain rhythms have been made that he just can't follow.

Alex looks over and you're moving, your boots sliding across the floor, and your skirt shifting around your legs. He's desperate to reach out and touch your hips with that sliver of skin that appears between your top and the skirt.

"C'mon!" You encourage him, waving your hand for him to join you.

He takes one step and he's already cringing. "I suck at this!" He yells over the country music.

You're tossing your head back in laughter, clasping your hands together in delight. "I can't lie. You're just so stiff." You move behind him and his breath escapes him as your hands land on his hips. "It's all about the hip movement, right?"

"Right." He smiles and reaches down, pulling your arms around him fully. You hug his back to your chest and lean your head on his shoulder. He's not paying attention to his swaying, slowly, unnoticeable getting lost in the music. He feels like he could fall asleep like this. You brush your hand down his chest to his stomach before reaching out for his half-emptied glass, chugging the remaining whiskey down.

You swallow the liquid and place your mouth next to his ear. "You ready for a fast one?"

You relinquish your hold before he can answer. It's like you know the bar band's setlist by heart as right after the slow one finishes, they launch into a quick one, getting nearly everyone in the bar up on their feet. Alex would feel intimidated if half of them weren't drunk and thinking he's already charmed you enough for you to at least find his awful dancing amusing. 

"Just follow my lead," you tell him as you stick a foot out and he follows you down the line. He feels like he's doing the hokey pokey and, like he was at Jacob Stein's Bar Mitzvah, he sucks at it.

You show everyone in the bar up, shuffling your feet around, shaking your hips, and doing it all while being the hottest one in there, which isn't saying much there isn't much competition in the beauty department and the dance department is limited other than the old fat geezer that was on the bull earlier that is now surprisingly good at twirling.

Alex copies the other men and puts his hands on his belt, his thumbs holding the buckle. You look over and smile affectionately. "You're already getting the hang of it."

"If I'm already getting the hang of it, can we stop then?" He feels out of shape, out of breath, and out of the loop as everyone claps their hands.

You giggle. "Make it to the end of the song." He supposes that's fair until it feels like the song is never going to end. He swears they've been doing this for 10 minutes and the band is only getting faster. He's sweaty and the Texan heat isn't helping whatsoever. 

But you're still on top of your shit, of course. The heat has only made you glisten and you're dancing on beat with a smile on your face. Your outfit's fabric dancing on its own and your cowboy boots pound the floor.

Then, relief comes as the band ends with resounding cheers. The dancing settles and Alex wipes his forehead, completely exhausted. "Bull time?" He inquires.

You smirk. "Sure, but you gotta pay for it."

"It's with your tip anyways."

You hook your arm with him as he digs into his wallet. "Well, this feels more gentlemanly than overtipping."

"It wasn't overtipping and I'm probably getting more out of this than you." He hands the money to the operator.

You raise your eyebrows. "Is that so?" You kiss me before escaping behind the gate of the machine. Alex moves out of the way of the line and leans on the wall as you mount the bull and he's never been more focused on something in his life, memorizing the way your legs grip the machine.

It starts up, slowly at first. Your hips move with it, creating a pattern, one he wants to recreate, except, you know, he's the bull. But then the machine starts moving rapidly and you're quick to fall off it in laughter. You last 20 seconds, by no means a record.

You stand up and readjust your clothes, exiting the ride. "I've never done that before," you say when you approach him.

He figured you to be an expert mechanical bull rider. You know every other inch of this place. "Why not?" You ask.

"I guess I was always scared but it was a lot of fun," you tell him, clutching to him for balance, mildly dizzy.

He manages to say, "Good" before your hand grabs the back of his neck and pulls his face down to yours and kisses you harshly. It's overtaking and everything else feels unimportant as his hands touch the soft fabric on the small of your back. He doesn't think there should ever be space between the two of you because your hips against his hips and your boobs against his chest and your lips against his lips all leave him breathless.

You both pause for a breath. "Any good hotels around here?" He breathes out.

"There's a motel down the road," you tell him, attaching your lips back to his. 

The kiss continues before he pulls back again to say, "Let's go there."

"Uh-huh," you say against his lips.

It takes you a while to actually get to his car. Every inch of the way, one of you stops to kiss some part of the other's body. When he actually manages to turn the car on, you start kissing his neck hungrily. "You can't do that," he warns.

You kiss up to his ear. "Why?" 

And there were valid reasons but he can't think of them and he isn't sure how he manages it but they arrive at the motel in one piece. 

One part of the journey they actually do keep their lips off each other is the front desk. "Just 1 room. 1 bed," Alex requests.

"For the two of you?" The lady questions. He thinks she might know you but neither of you has said anything to confirm that theory.

"Yes," he nods. "1 room. 1 bed. 1 night." He's desperate. Can feel the boner growing and this lady is taking forever to hand him the key to the shitty motel room that she'll overcharge him for.

"Hmm," she hums. She looks through her books but this motel hasn't been updated since 1952 and no one is probably staying here but yet she's acting like there are no vacancies. "And you'll be sleeping in the same bed?"

"Yes," he says frustratedly. "Hence the 1 bed."

"Hmm." It's like she's edging him or something, finally she stands and grabs a key from the back wall. "Check out is at 10. We have complimentary coffee but you'll have to pay for the WiFi. The TV remote is in the drawer next to the Bible." 

Silence transpires and the key is still in her hand. You let go of him and reach over the corner with the palm of your hand out. "Thank you," you say as a request for her to hand the key.

She drops it in your hand and you're quick to race off down to your room. After the door slams shut behind you two, there isn't any reason to hesitate as your movements become overcome with lust, clutching at every scrap of each other you can.

His shirt goes flying, your shirt goes flying. He backs you up onto the bed, collapsing on top of you. He's kissing down your neck, unlatching your bra, and smothering himself in your tits. Your eyes drift closed as his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently as his teeth graze the nub before soothing it with his tongue. You moan, pushing your chest out a bit as his hand cups your other breast, squeezing it lightly before he brings his mouth over and latches onto that one. He hums around your breast, biting and sucking and licking at your hard nipple.

You can feel his cock hardening against your thigh. Giving one last nip, Alex pulls away and moves his attention downward, kissing down your stomach, his tongue tracing. "So hot," he mumbles against your skin.

"You too," you shakily say. You sit up, pushing him to a standing position as your head hovers just at his belly button. Your hands reach out to his belt, playing with that buckle just like he was earlier in the bar. You look up at him, a smirk playing on your lips as he struggles for air. You pull the belt out of the buckle and unbutton his jeans. You shuffle your skirt off and drop to your knees in just your panties, taking his zipper down with you.

You wrap your fingers around the hardening base of his cock, having trouble keeping a straight face at the sight of him desperately struggling. You smile as you press a teasing kiss to the side of his shaft. "You know that thing they say about things being bigger in Texas." You shake your head as you teasingly pump him. "Not true. Not like this, at least."

You take the head into your mouth. You keep your gaze up as you lick the slit, the tip of your tongue tracing the thin opening and earning a loud moan from Alex. His body trembles and chest heaves with each swipe of your tongue. Your lips wrapped around it as your tongue gifts it with attention, alternating between teasing the slit and swirling around the tip, your eyes never breaking contact with Alex. 

As you start moving your lips down and taking more of his cock into your warm mouth, Alex feels his knees starting to go weak. He tries to brace himself on you, a hand on your head, but his legs are still trembling.

Feeling the way his thighs are shaking, you pull back and give him a soft smile. "Come sit on the bed, baby," you instruct, taking his hand off of you and leading him over to the edge of the bed.

He flops down on it, not having a moment to think before you're pushing his legs apart and kneeling between them, your arms laying on his thighs as you take hold of his cock's base again and guides it back into your mouth.

"Fuck that feels so good," he moans, sighing as he leans back on his arms and watching you work away at him. There's nothing quite like the sight of his cock in your pretty mouth, looking into your captivating eyes as you suck him nice and slow, lips and tongue touching every inch of his shaft. 

You work on his cock agonizingly slow, making sure you've lapped at every inch of sensitive flesh before you move on, your tongue curling around his thick shaft as your lips slide further and further down until it's impossible for you to fit any more of it in your mouth. His eyes flutter closed now as he feels you swallowing around him, the tip of his cock pressed right up against the back of your throat.

You pull back before you gag, sucking in a breath before going back. Your lips move from the head down over him to get to his base. You can feel his cock getting stiffer against your lips with every kiss.

Alex brushes your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, curling his fingers around the back of your head to hold it just like he's wanted to all night. You smile softly up at him, a silent thanks, but a lust creeps in darkening your gaze as his hand steadies on the back of your head.

He pulls you back to his crotch, making you open your mouth wide and take as much of his length as you can, hollowing out your cheeks and letting him set the pace, guiding your head back and forth on his cock.

Alex starts slow, letting you get used to the change in pace before he starts to pull you in faster, soon being able to feel his tip poking the back of your throat. He's content to just watch your head bob between his legs for a bit, not wanting to force you to swallow any more than you can take, until his hips start to move of their own accord. He first just arches off the couch to get closer to your mouth, then actually thrusting into you, fucking your face shallowly.

Alex grunts loudly, unable to control himself, his eyes rolling back into his head. "F-Fuck, yeah, fuck yeah, baby, that's it," he moans, the feel of your wet hot mouth turning his bones to jelly. "You take it so good."

But he can feel it, himself getting sloppier and closer and this can't end too soon, not in your mouth with you on your knees. He pulls you off him, tilting your head back to look at him clearly in the eye. "Get up here," he tells you, patting the bed.

You hop up onto the bed quickly. He pushes you down and reaches into your underwear, running his fingers through you, feeling the eagerness drip. He kisses you as he pushes the fabric to the side and starts fingering you. You moan against his mouth and it's so hot he almost lets go there. "Just put it in me," you huff out in between kisses.

He's unable to hold back a grin and pulls away to yank your panties down your legs, throwing them wherever everything else has been discarded. He guides his spit-slicked dick towards your hole. He rubs the tip through your folds before he pushes himself pushing himself in as you start to moan at the slow stretch until he's completely buried in you.

Alex starts rocking his hips, trying your instructions from earlier. He kisses you again, unable to avoid those lips. He swallows your moans and smiles into the kiss.

You arch your back into him, pressing your chest against his. Alex's fingers digging into your skin as he pushes into you harder. Strangled moans fill the room as he bucks and rocks his hips. Your thighs already starting to shake, curling around you, and pulling him in deeper the more desperate you get. 

"More," you moan. So, he starts thrusting into you like he knows you want it, bypassing any slowness completely and getting right to the sharp thrusts. He slides in and out quickly, hitting that spot inside you just a little bit harder each time. "Is this what you wanted? Huh?"

"Y-Yes," you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulder as he collides into you.

Alex wraps his hands around your thighs and hoists them up a bit more until your legs are pushed up to waist level. It hits that spot even deeper and you're completely gone by then, lost in the flutter on your eyelashes, clenching around him.

Feeling you get tighter and tighter with each pump drives his hips to move faster, bending just a bit more at the knees to get that perfect angle to pound into you just where he needs to be, and just like that, you're falling apart moments later, your pussy locking around his cock as you come and pulling you in so tight that he can barely keep fucking you through it without blowing his own load.

You've just barely recovered from your orgasm when he pulls out and you reach up to take him into your mouth. You cover his cock completely as he is unable to stop himself from thrusting into your mouth, cum shoved down your throat.

He lands beside you and then it's just heavy breathing and the regret of not turning on the AC the moment you walked in. "I like that a lot," you tell him.

"Good." He smiles over at you and you're already looking over at him. He'd pull you into him if he wasn't so sweaty. "That was fucking great."

You chuckle and stand slowly, readjusting and walking over to the panel for the small AC, turning it on. "You want to take a shower?"

The answer is, of course, yes. With your naked body and cheeky grin staring him down, already turning him on again, and the idea of cooling water pooling around him right now sounds like heaven.

Which has to then be ruined by water that came straight from hell. He can barely touch the water with his hand without helping back at the burn. "It must have overheated from the sun beating down on the pipes. Shitty motel anyway," you say.

"I'm so fucking hot," he complains, tilting his head back.

"Yeah." He looks over at you and your biting your lip, eyes lewd and clearly enjoying his nudity.

He proudly smirks. "You already want to go again?"

"The tiles are cool." That's true, his feet are the only things not burning.

Alex bends down, his butt hitting the cool tiles in relief. You straddle over him, your knees gaining relief. He's finally able to pull you close again, boobs against him, and kisses on your lip. "You want me to go down on you?"

You shake your head and pick up his harding cock in between you two, rising on your knees. "Just fuck me again." And then you're sinking down before he can even process it. His mind blurry as you take him all in again.

His cock surrounded by tight, wet warmth once again, as you move back and forth on his lap. Alex knows he isn't going to last very long, already a complete mess as you grab the back of his neck, controlling him, controlling every movement of both of you back. One flesh.

Alex starts rubbing your clit, determined to have some say in this fucking, determined to making you come as soon as he can. He fumbles a bit, his fingers slipping in your arousal before he finally is able to press his fingertips against your clit and apply pressure. He can feel you tighten around his cock immediately in reaction to his touch.

You rock together desperately, the sounds of their moans and slapping skin echo through the bathroom. It happens just a few minutes later, when he suddenly thrusts up into you, overtaking you completely, throwing you over the edge. He lifts you off him quickly, his cum shooting onto his stomach as his head knocks against the wall. 

"Holy shit," he finally utters.

"Yeah," you say. You can barely keep your head up, landing it on his collarbone. He reaches up and holds it tenderly, releasing the hardness from before, finally laying in softness. "We should probably go to sleep in bed."

He nods in agreement. Finding the strength in him to somehow make it into bed. He pulls you into him, just a light sheet over the two of you, still stuck in the heat. He doesn't mean to ask, but thinks out loud, "Come with me."

"Hmm?" You hum, half-asleep.

"I don't know what I'm saying," he says.

About a minute later, when he's almost certain you've fallen asleep, you pull yourself closer to him and mumble, "I've never been to Dallas before."

*

a/n: alex in a cowboy hat might be my favourite picture ever and i struggle using it knowing i'll never be able to use it again. please, alex, more cowboy hat pictures!!

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 6

Hello! We are back with this lovely story.

Things are starting settle for Steve as he visits his kids and gets news from his cousin, Monty. He also learns he has allies in unexpected places.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

It was still early enough in the day that Monty wouldn’t be at work so he figured he’d grab a bite to eat and then do some shopping. He might even stop by the Hendersons if he had time. He wanted to see the little pipsqueak again.

As much as Steve was loving the super rich and decadent food of the hotel all he wanted in that moment was a good chili burger from Benny’s.

When he got there the diner was mostly empty, the lunch rush having just ended, so he slid into his favorite booth and waited for the waitress to notice him. And of course because Alice was as sharp intelligence wise as she was sharp tongued, she was over at his table with a cup and pot of coffee.

“Steve Harrington,” she said with a wicked gleam her eye. “I thought you’d done and gone a runner.”

Steve raised his hand and tilted it back and forth. “Ehh...close enough I guess.”

Alice barked out a laugh, shaking her head as she handed him the menu. And he handed it right back.

“I would like a strawberry milk shake, Benny’s Big Chili Burger, and side order of cheese fries.” He grinned at her as she looked at him in shock. “Please?”

She jotted it all down, shaking her head again and then shoved the pad back in her apron. “That will be coming right up.” She turned on her heel and walked right back to the kitchen.

Steve added sugar and creamer to his coffee and took a sip. It wasn’t as good as the hotels, but it was warm and friendly and tasted a little like home.

Alice refilled his coffee twice before his food came out with a stack of napkins. As she placed his food in front of him, she whispered, “Are you safe?”

Steve looked up at her in awe. She looked over her shoulder at Benny who was watching them nervously. Suddenly his insides warmed fast than an entire pot of coffee ever could.

He nodded and gave Benny a thumbs up and hoped from an outsider’s point of view, he was giving the chef indication that he was happy with the food. The chef relaxed and so did Alice.

Steve happily, sloppily ate his meal in peace. He got a couple of side-eyes from some of the other patrons, but he steadfastly ignored them in favor of the delicious food. After he was done he took out a twenty and dropped it down on the table.

Alice deserved something extra for being so nice. He waved goodbye and got back into his car. He checked his watch and saw that he had plenty of time before The Hideout opened so he drove over to the Hendersons.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Claudia’s car out front. Because even if Dustin wasn’t home, she would be and be able to pass along the message he had visited. He got out of the car but before he even raised his hand to knock the door swung open and he suddenly had an armful of rowdy teenager.

“Steve!” Dustin cried, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend.

Steve let out a sigh and knot he didn’t know he was holding in his chest loosened and then vanished. Then there was a flurry of other bodies as he was hit with three more hugs. Then Max showed up at the door and pushed her way through the bodies of the four boys to cling to Steve’s waist.

Claudia came to the door and raised an eyebrow at him. “I think they’re happy to see you.”

He huffed out a laugh. He held them all as close as possible. Tears began to run down his face as he squeezed them for as long and as tightly as he could. Finally his arms began to hurt.

“I missed you guys so much,” he whispered into Dustin’s curly hair.

Claudia gently pried each of them off Steve and pushed them into the house with murmured assurances that Steve wasn’t going anywhere and that he would probably like to come inside now.

Finally it was just Max and Dustin, then just Max. When Claudia tried to dislodge her, she buried her head deeper into Steve’s chest.

“Don’t leave me like that ever again,” she whispered fiercely. “Or I will find you and kick your ass. Do you hear me?”

“I promise,” he said solemnly and meant it. Things weren’t all peaches and cream for the other kids, but at least they all had someone willing to care at least a little. Susan Hargrove tried, but her life was a series of bad decisions followed by worse consequences, mainly for Max.

Max finally let go of his waist, but she grabbed his hand, and led him into the house. Steve smiled after hearing from his friends that they wouldn’t take him, after Tommy had done a runner, his parents threw him away like an old soiled rag he had forgotten that he had people who loved him.

Alice and Benny at the diner, his kids.

Once he entered the living room, he was bombarded with questions. He couldn’t even hear what they were saying, it was so loud.

He put his fingers to his lips and whistled long and loud. “Hey, dumbasses! One at a time. Jeez, I’d ask who raised ya, but I know that and they didn’t raise you to behave this way.”

There was some grumbling but they all quieted down and Steve answered their questions the best he could without say who it was who had rescued him.

“You’re trying to tell us,” Mike scoffed, “that some rich money bags swooped in like a white knight and swept you off your feet?”

Yeah, okay, Steve conceded to himself, that did sound hard to believe. He pulled out the wallet. He had taken most of the money had it put in the hotel safe until he got back and talked to the front desk about his room safe, but there was still a lot in there. Minus the twenty to Alice, of course.

He opened it up and pulled out his new shiny, black card and tossed it on the coffee table. Mike picked it up and looked at it. He turned it around to see Steve’s name on the back but literally nothing else was on it.

He threw back on the table and sat back. “So you’ve a black card, so what.”

Steve burst out laughing. Laughing until he was doubled over with it. He threw the rest of the wallet on the table when he finally could breathe again. But Mike refused to pick it up, he just glared at him.

So Lucas picked it up and his eyebrows shot up. “Holy shit, Steve. Did you sell your kidney?”

Mike looked over and saw the wallet was brimming with cash. His head shot up at Steve in shock. “What does a black card mean?”

Steve smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, smug as anything. “Black means no limit.”

“No limit?” Dustin asked. “How can a card have no limit? Even Ma’s card has a limit.”

“It means I can buy an island nation on it and they wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t. It’s not my money, but I could.”

Max let go of his hand and took the wallet from Lucas. He looked up at her as she counted the money. “There’s enough in here to pay the rent on my mom’s trailer for six months.”

Steve nodded. “And that’s not even all of it. I left some back at where I’m staying.”

“Which is where?” Will asked. “Dustin won’t tell us.” He looked over at Dustin who stuck his tongue at him.

“I can’t tell you that,” Steve said shaking his head. “I want to, and I will. Just not yet. I need make sure my parents are out of town and don’t have people looking for me before I trust people with that knowledge.”

“So why tell Dustin then?” Mike huffed.

And there it was. It wasn’t that Mike didn’t believe him, it was that he was upset that Dustin was given privileged information.

“I told Mrs. Henderson and Dustin was there,” he defended. “Look. When I’m sure my dad won’t ruin your parents’ lives for you guys helping me, then you’ll know, same as him.” He rolled his eyes. “Plus it was more I gave Dustin a phone number and didn’t realize that they fucking announced who they were regardless of the number called.”

Will snapped his fingers. “A hotel. You’re staying in a hotel!”

Steve threw his head back and covered his face with his hands and groaned his frustration. He had forgotten he was dealing with literal geniuses.

“Oh!” Mike said. “I get it now. You thought they would only say the name of the hotel when you called the front desk but not your room. But you were wrong and that’s how Dustin found out.”

Steve pursed his lips and he nodded, trying not to scream.

“So it wasn’t that you think he’s special,” Max said, “you’re just stupid.”

“Maxine Catherine Maxwell!” Claudia shrieked from the doorway. “We do not call people stupid in this house!”

Max’s jaw dropped at being full named. Steve was even impressed. He didn’t even know that Max had a middle to use.

“Sorry, Steve,” she muttered putting the wallet back on the table and crossing her arms.

Claudia nodded to the wallet and the card. “You best put those away, love. We don’t want you to lose anything now that you’re safe.”

He did as he was told. He then stayed around and answered their questions the best he could. Then when it was time for them to go home for dinner, he offered to take any of them home, but they all declined. Even Max, which surprised him, but he figured she was still stung by being full named by Dustin’s mom.

So he gave her a big hug before she left so she knew he wasn’t mad at her. She hugged him back fiercely and then pushed him away with a weak, “Loser.”

Steve huffed a small laugh and let her go.

He grabbed a sandwich off Claudia and then dashed off. He made a stop at Melvand’s and grabbed his hair products. He used the card for that so that Eddie could get a laugh at that purchase.

Then he pulled up to The Hideout just as it was opening and sure enough, Monty was at the door.

Steve got out of his Bimmer and walked up to the door. It was a Tuesday so there wasn’t anyone lined up.

Monty breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s good to see you, kid, but I can’t let you in.”

Steve held up his hands. “And I’m not asking you to. I’m just here to make sure you didn’t get into trouble and maybe some news if you have it.”

Monty relaxed and threw his arm around Steve’s shoulders, walking off to the side so they could share a smoke and Monty could still keep an eye on the door.

They were about halfway through their cigarettes when Monty finally spoke up.

“You didn’t get me in trouble,” he said, blowing out smoke. “I just don’t want my boss to put two and two together and come up with you being the Eddie Munson pet. You’re dad has been breathing down the necks of the local police. Not to find you, oh no. To run you out of town with a fucking lynch mob.”

Steve winced, flicking the ash off his cigarette with his thumb nail. “I’m not surprised. That’s why I’m laying low. Plus the place has good security, they will deny I’ve ever existed and since they don’t have anything on me, they can’t come back with a warrant.”

“What about your ID?” Monty asked after chewing on his lip for a moment or two.

“It’s on my list of things to get rid of,” Steve assured him. “I just want to do it safely. Cutting it up and throwing it away will only make things annoying for the cops to put back together.”

Monty nodded. “As long as you’re being smart about this, that takes a huge weight off my shoulders.”

“Do you think anyone there that night would remember me?” Steve asked, nervously.

“Don’t know,” Monty said with a shrug. “You did stand out pretty good that night. But whether they recognized you as Clint Harrington’s son? I doubt it and my boss hates cops so ten to one if they come sniffing around that night’s security tapes are gonna do a runner.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to feel relieved. “That’s good to know.”

“How’s Aunt Sophie doing?” Steve asked, grinding his finished cigarette under his shoe. “I heard she had a cancer scare last month?”

Monty scoffed. “Is that what Auntie Maureen said?” He rolled his eyes. “Scare? That implies that she was making it up. Bitch. Stage four. They think they’ve caught in enough time, but only time will tell.”

Steve winced again. “Mom has always been jealous of Aunt Sophie. I’m sorry, man. I hope they get it taken care off.”

“Thanks.”

The conversation turned to various cousins and other relatives. Then by some miracle someone came up to the door and Monty had to go.

Steve watched him trot back to the door and apologize to the patron and he shook his head. He drove back to the hotel and worried about his car. He didn’t know if his dad would think to look here, but he needed a reliable way to get around.

He wanted to skip dinner because he was so tired but he knew he needed to eat. So he ordered room service and called Eddie. It went to voicemail like the thought it would, but he told him all about his day. Then he ate and got ready for bed. He slowly drifted off to gentle silence of the suite around him.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[whiskeyghoul]

Coloring pages || [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A/N: This has been stuck in my mind for weeks now and I needed to put it down. This is the first fic I had proof read by someone! Enjoy and please like and reblog when you do. 

Tags: Fluff, tooth rotting fluff, just fluff, coloring pages, spencer reid x gn!reader I think.

You stood outside of the Quantico building, leaning against the side of your car. The air had the early autumn chill, it wasn't cold but your oversized sweater sure made it a lot more bearable to be outside of the car for an extended period. You were waiting for your date to be finished with his work. Boyfriend. You corrected yourself internally. Boyfriend of 6 weeks, 3 days and 5 hours to be exact. Which, with Spencer as your boyfriend you had to be.

He is handsome, kind and so incredibly intelligent it is sometimes just a tad frustrating. His rambles were interesting and you could probably listen to him for hours on end. You also wanted to spend time together just enjoying each other's company. Being together, that was your type of love. The affirming touches that the other was there. The comfortable silence you enjoyed so much where you could hear soft intakes of breaths. Glances at one another to confirm that the other was still there. You loved when Spencer had invited you over to his apartment once, he still had some work to finish so you'd picked up a book from the many shelves and made yourself comfortable on his worn couch. You had looked up from the book and over to him, seen him deep in thought as he looked at the lines of writing, jotting down notes next to it. His brow slightly furrowed, lips pursed ever so slightly as he thought particularly hard. Completely unaware of your admirations of him from the couch. That's what you liked.

People began filing out of the building as the sun set, you watched and watched to catch the first sign of Spencer. When you did see that messy brown hair bounce slightly as he walked down the steps a smile spread across his face. You mirrored his expression, every time you saw him it brought a smile to your lips. A gust of wind picked up, ruffling his hair even further as he bound over his long strides causing him to stand before you in, what felt like, mere seconds. "Hey." He said softly. His hand reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear that had been swept up by the wind. His fingertip grazed the side of your temple. "Hi." You returned just as softly. "How was work?" You asked as you looked into those big, brown eyes. They were filled with warmth as he looked into yours. "It was good, no new cases which I was hoping for since I wanted to see you." Spencer spoke his emotions as he pulled his hand away. "Good, because I have something planned." You said with a smile, turning on your heels and walking back to the driver's side.

"You have something planned?" Spencer asked as he quickly dove into the passenger seat. Tucking his bag between his feet. "I do." You say as you put the seatbelt on, feeling his eyes on your profile. "Can I know?" He asked, impatiently tapping his fingers against his thighs, an air of excitement surrounding him. "Not yet. It's a surprise." Your voice sounds melodic, sing-song-y even, on the last sentence as you turned the key and started up the car. "Tell me more about your day." You say as the music over the speakers softly filled the car and the heater worked to warm your cold tinged hands.

Spencer had talked about his day, you were intermittently interrupting him with questions before he asked about your day. You were still going on about a coworker who had annoyed you when you parked the car in front of your destination. The bookstore and café combo where you had your first date. You got out and quickly snatched the tote bag you had haphazardly laid on the backseat before turning back to Spencer. "The bookstore? Why are we here?" He looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes playfully and put the tote bag over your shoulder. "Because we're going for coffee." You answered and held out your hand which he took. You saw his eyes dart towards the tote bag, that soft crease between his eyebrows forming as he pictured all the possibilities of what its contents could be. “Coffee at 5 P.M.? You know that feeling unaffected by caffeine could be a sign of a genetic difference or you have built an increasingly large tolerance. This could be a problem once you start ingesting dangerous amounts of caffeine unbeknownst to you.” Spencer rambled as you entered the coffee shop. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll get a tea then.” you say as you get hit by the smell of fresh brewed coffee, pastries and books. There was music softly playing in the background. The shop was warm.

Pulling Spencer along to the table where your first date had been, you sat down, shedding your fall jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair. The tote bag was placed on the table, only a slight peak of its contents spilling out. Spencer’s eyes darted to it, wanting to know what you had planned and why you were being so secretive. Quickly, your hand found its way to cover the contents, pressing the tote bag shut. “After we get our drinks.” You teased, there was a sparkle in your eyes, seeing him this interested in what you were planning made it all the more fun to keep him in the dark.

“Really? Can’t you just tell me?” Spencer questioned, giving you the most pleading eyes he could muster in that moment, you were surprised he didn’t pout at you. Just then the waitress came over, taking your coffee and tea orders before walking back behind the bar. When you had looked at her Spencer seemed to have taken his chance and snuck a peek inside of the bag, before you knew it he was pulling out a set of colored pencils. “Spencer!” You admonished playfully, snatching the colored pencils out of his hand and sticking them back in the bag. “What? I was just curious.” He played innocent, giving that sweet smile he knew made you weak. “You brought colored pencils?” He tilted his head slightly, his soft curls falling away from his face. You reached out across the table, tucking a stray curl behind his ear like he had done with you before, “I did.” Your answer came with a soft sigh before folding the tote bag slightly open and pulling out the matching set of colored pencils and a book of coloring pages. “I guess the cat is out of the bag.”

“Why did you bring coloring pages?” Spencer looked confused at the book, flipping through the blank pages filled with outlines of forest scenes and insects. An amused smile on his lips, “Aren’t we too old for that?” He asked, his tone was a slight teasing one. You know he didn’t mean it to be hurtful at that moment, but still he didn’t seem as excited about it as you were. You bit your lip, holding back the twinge of disappointment that shot through your heart.

“I thought it would be fun to do something together. It’s not a children's coloring book, but you know… I wanted to work on a page together, so we have something we both did.” Your voice had an edge to it, the disappointment you tried to hide still managed to bubble its way to the top. It felt horrible, that such a little thing could make this big of an impact. Your hands fidgeted with the end of your sweater, picking at the sleeve with a hint of defeat. Eyes cast down on the table. “Woah, hey, wait no I- I didn’t mean anything bad- I just-” Spencer stumbled over his words, quickly reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. Moving his thumb soothingly across the back of your hand. “If you want to, we will. It looks fun. Really.” He corrected himself, his eyes finding yours. You could see the hint of regret at his earlier words, his sincerity in his current ones. The disappointment still lingered, but the warmth from his hand was quickly spreading through your body to wash away any doubt. “Really?” You asked again, wanting the extra confirmation. You attempted a smile, it was half hearted still but at least it was somewhat reassuring to yourself. “Really, I just get to pick what we’re working on.” Spencer smiled back, giving your hand a soft squeeze before letting go to pick up the book again.

You watched Spencer flip through, taking a quick look at the different pages until he found one to his liking. Placing the book open on the table, a flowery field with butterflies and bumble bees. “This one.” he said, looking to you for confirmation like he could make the wrong choice. “That’s perfect.” Your voice was soft, still trying to get over the disappointment from before. It was nearly gone, leaving you with mostly warmth in your heart. You grabbed the two sets of colored pencils, opening them, and setting them out on the table. Just then your drinks were brought out, a chai latte for you after Spencer’s comment about caffeine, he still had a cappuccino which made you smile a bit. You handed a set of pencils to Spencer before picking up your chai and taking a tentative sip. It was hot but delicious. 

“Alright, so how do we start?” Spencer asked, looking at the page then back at you. “I want to color it together. You can start over on your side, I start on mine, meet in the middle?” You said, placing your cup back down. “Won’t it be mismatched? should we at least have the same color green for the stems?” He suggested, suddenly seeming a bit more into it than he had been before. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. The same blue for the sky too?” You added, opening your own set of pencils. You picked out a blue, matching it with one from Spencer's set. He did the same with the green, handing you the matching pencil with a smile. “Let’s get coloring then.” He said before turning his attention to the paper. You followed suit, touching the colored pencil to the paper and began to fill in the white space.

You kept picking up pencils, filling in the flowers with different colors, sometimes your hand would meet with Spencer’s while drawing and he’d look up with a smile. Soft bumps and touches that affirmed you were both there. Light chuckles and laughter with your coloring interrupted by each other. Your heart fluttered at how he had thrown all his earlier judgment aside to make you happy. Looking up he was focused, smiling at the paper as he decided what colors would fit best. Sometimes asking for your opinion. Intermittently his drawing was interrupted by sips of coffee. Wiping the residue off of his lips with his sleeve before going back to the page.  The way he was focused was cute, hairs falling in front of his eyes, a grin on his face as he gave in to the childlike whimsy of doing a coloring page. It was refreshing to see him with his shoulders relaxed, focusing on anything but words. Letting the surrounding sounds of the shop take over. Slowly you felt yourself be more and more focused on Spencer rather than the drawing. Once he noticed, he looked up, the smile still plastered on his face, “What?” he laughed out the question. One of the more beautiful sounds you’ve heard, though you wouldn’t tell him that. You shook your head no, laughing softly “Nothing.” You answered with a genuine smile. “There’s something.” Spencer pushed, still smiling, holding back the laughter that bubbled up inside of him. “You looked very focused, that’s all.” You answered, shrugging nonchalantly before you finished up your drink that had gone lukewarm from the amount of time you had been sitting there. “Well, so did you. Just not on the coloring anymore.” Spencer teased, making a blush creep to your cheeks. Biting your tongue to hold back from throwing out a retort that would have been completely unnecessary. 

Your eyes cast down to the coloring page, it was almost completely filled with your combined efforts of removing every spot of white. It was beautiful to you, a bit messy but that made it perfect. Spencer looked down too, regarding the page with a certain air of pride. “I think we should frame it.” he spoke up. Your eyes darted back to his face, to see if he was joking or if it was serious. His expression was relaxed, no sign of any funny business. “Why?” You asked, a hint of confusion in your voice this time around. “It’s the first thing we made together.” His words made your heart skip a beat, the way he was so sincere had such an effect on you. “We’ll have to make another for my place then.” you answered. “Or you’ll just have to come over by my place more often to see it.” Spencer smiled, his words a thinly veiled excuse to see you in his home, to have you over, spend time together. 

You smiled, quickly leaning over the table to steal a kiss after he finished his sentence. “I’d like that a lot.”

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, really slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

For all of Blade’s life, life has always been and will always be truly and utterly miserable.

If he were asked to recount the many times he wished he just died, he would lose count. From a promising life with the high-cloud quintet, from being the renowned crafter of weapons, to being just Blade. His pain does not give him the liberty to dream of a future, he does not have the privilege to close his eyes and dream of his youth when he is only constantly plagued with the thousands of screams who scream his name.

For a man who does not have the right to love, the right to dream and wish for death, just this once, the Aeons were kind enough to give him you.

He met you in unforeseen circumstances, he was gravely injured after another fight with some soldiers on some planet. Blade knows that he won’t die now, but he feels like dying. His stomach slashed by a poison so advanced it eats him from inside out, but oh how kind of the gods to bless him you.

”Hey, stay awake!” It was the first time in his life he’s heard a desperate cry, not out of fear for your life, but for his.

You did not know him, neither did he know you but it was like second nature to protect him.

The destroyer of worlds, the monster from the Stellaron hunters, the exiled one, you only saw a dying man.

He felt a damp cloth pressing on his stomach, “Please hang on.” Just who were you to tell him what to do? You just had to be there at that exact moment. Through blurry eyes, he could not make out what your face looked like, not like he could ever remember.

Blade could remember your voice, it was loud yet soothing, then he felt bandages wrap around his torso as someone carried him. He lost consciousness that night.

His eyes flutter open, was he really that weak to fall under the influence of that poison?

“You’re awake.”

He groans and sits up, his spine hurts like hell. “Who the hell are you?”

”Hey buddy, no need for hostility, I’m the one who saved your life.” His eyes follow you when you roll your eyes at him, ignoring his shit and jotting down whatever on your clipboard.

He stays silent when you come closer to him, your face getting a little too close than his liking, “Can you say ahh?”

Blade hesitates but he obliges, for the first time in his life, to a stranger, something in him tells him to trust you. “Ahh…”

You turn on your penlight and point it at his throat before sliding it back into your pockets, “Good, good” Blade doesn’t know what you’re doing when you stare in his eyes for 2 minutes, must be you inspecting something.

”You’re all fine, I’m surprised that you heal fast. Anyone who takes in such poison and exceeds 4 doses would die in an instant.” He thinks you’re weird.

…

In just 3 days, Blade was out of the hospital, Kafka tracked down where he was and was relieved when she found out Blade was alright.

“You’re really reckless, Bladie.”

Blade only scoffs hearing her words, it may be the truth but who cares? Certainly not him.

Just as the two were leaving the hospital for good, you followed him.

”You…” He saw you panting and gripping your knees from the exhaustion of chasing him down, he left without even informing the nurses.

He doesn’t know why you followed him, “Can I atleast have your name?”

Kafka blinks in surprise before turning away, as if she wasn’t witnessing whatever bullshit was going down.

”Excuse me?”

”Your name.”

”Why do I have to tell you?”

”I saved your life for fucks sake!”

Blade rolls his eyes, narrowing his eyes at you but he just gives up, “Fine, Blade.”

”What?”

”Do I have to repeat myself?”

He’s really mean, but he doesn’t scare you, which surprises him. You don't flinch at his words, but whatever. He thinks that he won’t have to see you again. (You almost crack up a laugh, who the fuck name's their child Blade?)

You don’t push him any further and let him leave, you want to learn more about him.

So for the following days, you ask people if they knew who that ‘Blade’ was, where did he work at, what he truly was because which idiot would end up wounded in a ditch at a place that’s practically considered a warzone in your planet. Not only that, but you were also intrigued and curious about his ability to heal fast and resist the poison.

You don’t find any information regarding that strange man, but one thing’s for sure, he’s dangerous.

Like clockwork, Blade comes again to the planet “Clove-V” to exterminate some pests because some idiot decided to mess with the Stellearon hunters. Gut a soldier, gain information, leave– is what he’s supposed to do.

Blade stares at the bloodied sword of his, “This goddamn poison again.”

He feels weak, clutching his stomach and he needs to leave before anyone catches up on him again. So he leaves the building only to drop unconscious.

Again, he is back to that familiar hospital room where he was just a few weeks ago.

”You’re back.” You scrunch your nose again, the squeaky writing on the clipboard hurting his ears.

He’s too tired to say something snarky, but he sighs in annoyance.

”You look worse than last time,” his gaze never leaves you when you come closer to inspect his throat and eyes like last time, “How do you keep getting in situations like these?”

He stays quiet, but you keep persisting with him to give you an answer.

Was he an assassin? A murderer?! One of the IPC slaves– no, no, he looks different from them, a little too proper (but bloodied), maybe from the Xianzhou luofu? So when you heal his wounds, you can’t help but ask, “Are you a murderer?”

Must you really force an answer out of him?

”Do I not look like one?” Were you such a fool to ask such an obvious answer?

You sat back down on the comfort of the cushion chair, “I didn’t want to assume”

”Now you know.”

“Yeah.”

He’s curious, when you find out that he’s a murderer, you’re not afraid, you do not run away or distance yourself, “Why do you kill people?”

He stays silent again, you don’t know the specifics, but you know the answer.

“I’ll get going now,” clearing your throat, “Just use the call button if you need help, one of the nurses will attend to you.”

And again, for 2 days, he is out of the hospital.

“You really keep ending up in that hospital, don’t you?” Kafka laughs, throwing away the Blade’s admission.

As they left, he could see you staring at him from your office. It was embarrassing enough that he caught you watching him leave so intently, Blade saw the curtains immediately close.

Again and again, he keeps getting wound up in that same hospital, might as well be stuck there forever.

”I’m no longer surprised you’re here again Blade.” It’s weird, when his name slips out from your lips, it sounds less scary (people often associate his name with fear and murder, but you call him like he’s any other man)

8 visits to your clinic, you might as well be his personal doctor.

“I know you’re a murderer but do you constantly have to be injured every month? I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just to see me.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” He scoffs.

”I was merely jesting.”

He cocks his head to the side, he sees you more often than he meets with Sam. You turn on your penlight again, unlike his first visit, he obliges without putting up a fight.

“Nothing unusual, you’re good to go.” You speak in between coughs, which surprises Blade. Lately, you were sicker than usual, pale and run-down.

”Are you okay?”

”Excuse me?”

”Nevermind.”

He should mind his own business, this is strictly a patient and doctor relationship. But he can’t help but wonder, if you looked that sick, shouldn’t you be on leave? You leave his hospital room without a word, he’s still curious.

He left, but this time, he didn’t see you looking out from your office window to watch where he was going.

Months pass by, by now he would’ve forgotten about you. But in the back of his head, he’s still wondering how are you? It isn’t for him to inquire about your personal life. He is still tempted to know more about you, so, he ends up wounded on that planet again (much to silverwolf’s dismay, he was supposed to be on a different mission)

He wakes up again in that hospital room, your coughs were loud enough to wake him up, “You keep coming back, I should just give you medicine so you don’t have to always end up here”

In truth, he just wanted to see you. It was unlike him to think about someone this much but he can’t help but be curious (worried, but he would never admit that.)

He felt the back of your palm press on his forehead, good thing he didn’t have a fever, “Your temperature’s okay.” He is worried, you speak in between coughs he could barely register your words. For a moment when you touched his skin, he felt his mara quelled, even for just a mere second.

“I want to ask, who are you really?” He’s taken by surprise by your question, something he expected but not one he expected now.

”I’m a stellaron hunter.” Oh.

A stellaron hunter, huh? “Why did you become one?”

He asks himself, why did he become one? Other than for when that day comes, he will be free, he will die. He can’t form a full answer, “I don’t know.” It’s better to give an answer, to lie, rather than be someone who cannot answer such a simple question.

“I see.” But you see through him, but you’re not close enough to him to question him about who he truly is. So you’ll know him through medicine, you’ll heal him to get to know who he is if he cannot give you a clear answer.

You gave him your name, because after 9 visits, he should know your name already. “What?”

”My name.”

He nods along, he’ll make sure to not forget it. You were sure he’s okay now, his vitals are back to normal, but before you leave, he calls out your name.

“You…” There was a look of confusion on your face, “Nevermind” He wanted to ask about your health, why were you still working? By seeing your current health, you’re close to death at this point. But he keeps his concerns to himself; after all, what does he know of you other than a doctor?

But even months pass by, he still wants to understand you. You do not look at him with contempt unlike his victims, and even if he had visited 12 times now, you did not seem annoyed; maybe even thrilled with the company.

He does not care for hobbies or games, he’s not like silverwolf whose life revolves around games and other things, he’s not like kafka who takes pleasure in playing with her food (her victims), he’s definitely not gentle and kind like Firefly.

So Blade does not understand why you’re fond of things like these, a monopoly board? Really? It’s stupid, very. But it’s the only way you two can understand each other, even if it means wasting time like this.

You rolled a 6 and landed on a community chest, “God damn it.”

He squints his eye when you got a card that said ‘Go to jail’, what the fuck was this game even about? “I don’t get this game”

He really doesn’t, but he rolls another and lands on some unclaimed property and buys it, “No shit, but you’re a lucky bastard.”

“I don’t get why we’re playing this stupid game, even checkers seem more appealing.” Finally getting out of jail, you rolled a 5 and landed on his property, going bankrupt. “You know what? Fuck this game.”

He doesn’t even understand how he won, he’d much prefer if you two read in silence or something. “That was a stupid game”

“You’re stupid.”

”Excuse me?”

Then you two go at it and fight again, but it was fun. The most fun he’s had in years (as if he ever knew what fun truly is)

But life is not kind, time is limited and you cannot trade gems or blood for 5 more minutes. He’s known that rule all his life, to never get attached ever again because he’ll be miserable, he’ll lose himself the way he lost who he truly was when he was still Yingxing. Yet, humans will always be humans; mortals, immortals, they are the same. And he is no exception.

After his 23rd visit for the past 2 years– going 3, he remembers small details about you. You studied at this university for a few extra years because you kept getting a failing grade, you like roping him up in stupid games (you tried to make him play twister once, it was you who got a twisted ankle), you like reading and everything else.

For all his cursed, miserable life, he slowly found reason, a part of him feels human again.

“You don’t look good.”

A stifled cough escaped you, “You think?”

You were on sick leave, he found out where you lived after asking forcing one of the nurses where you lived. Blade found you on the couch, sprawled with only a thin blanket covering you. He doesn’t care for anyone, just this once, though, just this once.

”Have you eaten yet?” It makes you laugh at how caring he is, the most unexpected side of him, after all.

You shook your head, “No.”

A cough seized you so suddenly, Blade’s worries did not go away. He doesn’t know how to cook, much less how to take care of a person.

”You have a fever,” he hands you a glass of water, but it was not enough to ease your pain.

You wish to close your eyes, but even the small contracting of your muscles ache, when you drink, it hurts, when you move, it hurts. It hurts to live at this point but you endure, “Why did you come?”

“I had to.”

”Why exactly?”

”Just shut up and let me take care of you.”

You could only faintly chuckle at his words when he gets a warm cloth to put it on your forehead, “What else do I do?”

Nighttime came but he has not left yet, he can’t leave just yet, “Tell me.”

There was no use, whatever he did would not help you get through with this illness of yours. “Just tell me.” You did not have the energy to argue or talk, but he did not get the hint so he continued to pester you for an answer.

”Can you please stop talking? I need to sleep.”

”Fine.”

Tomorrow came, only Blade was right beside you, staring intently at you; a part of him afraid you won’t wake up again.

”You’re awake.” Blade always had that nonchalant expression, but his eyes were heavy with worry. Were you dreaming or was he really right beside you and worried for your well being? A part of you wished you still were, having company is the best when you’re ill.

You coughed softly, “Yes.”

Why didn’t he leave? Was he worried? You must be insane to think that way, he is just your old patient who just so happened to always end up in the hospital under your care.

The man in front of you sat beside you and stared at you for a while, not knowing what to do, “What do I do next?”

Ah. He rarely shows emotion on his face but his pupils dilate for a split second, you can’t die but you were so close to dying, he’s no doctor, he has no expertise in taking care of anyone but for just this moment he wished he did.

“Just keep me company.” He nods.

Note: cries cries cries bc the full fic is so long i have to make it into 2 parts :((( im abt to post part 2 pls pls wait 😔😔😔

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡