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hungermakesmonsters · 2 months ago

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The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake.

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk.

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations.

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor.

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club.

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you. He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer.

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame.

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?”

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do.

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?”

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again.

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?”

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?”

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?”

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe.

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him.

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again.

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt.

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #trr ff

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 7 months ago

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The Naughty Nanny Chapter 1

Summary: Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand. He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later. But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her. The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time. Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought.

**In this universe Steve never left, Tony never died.** **curvy reader** Warnings: talk of sexual harassment, unwanted/non-consensual touching/sexual assault, eventual smut

Next chapter

“Please go to sleep,” Bucky begged quietly as the baby wailed in her crib. He rubbed his face roughly, his eyes burning from lack of sleep. He felt a wave of emotion through him and started crying, which surprised him. He had gone through years of torture, being put on ice, memories wiped, the worst things imaginable done to him and forced on him to do to others, sleep deprivation worse than this and yet here he was crying over a crying baby.

He’d never had a lot of experience with babies. He had sisters back then, but his mother had always been the one to take care of them as infants. None of the other Avengers brought their kids around to headquarters. This baby was unknown to him until four weeks ago.

“Hey Bucky, uh…you’re needed in the lobby,” Sam’s voice rang through Friday’s intercom.

“Okay,” Bucky answered back up to the ceiling, then headed down to the front of the building. When he approached the front desk a small group was forming around something on the floor. “What’s going on?” he asked as he walked up to Sam.

Sam gave him a worried look then pointed to the floor. It was a baby in a carrier, fast asleep, covered in a blanket, a diaper bag and a box of things next to it. Steve was holding a note in one hand and reading it over and over again, the other hand holding a small stack of papers.

“Oh cute, whose baby?” Bucky said, smiling softly. Everyone in the room looked at him uneasily.

“It’s um…it’s yours,” Steve said hesitantly, handing him the note.

“What? That’s–” Bucky scoffed then read the note. It was scribbled hurriedly and he read it slowly.

‘James Barnes,

You won’t remember me but we had a one night stand a few months ago. I didn’t realize I was pregnant till it was too late to have an abortion. I’m not cut out for motherhood, and won’t be able to give her the life she deserves. You’re an Avenger, so I’m guessing you’ve got money or options to make sure she’ll get a fair shot. I haven’t named her, and I’ve signed away my rights. She was born March 10. I’m sorry to drop this on you.

Good luck.’

Bucky stared at the note. He really couldn’t remember most of the one night stands he’d had. They had usually been drunken encounters after too much Asguardian mead at one of Tony’s many parties. “I…I don’t...”

“We should take a DNA sample, make sure it’s actually his,” Tony piped up.

“Oh please, Tony, just look at her. She looks just like him,” Pepper smacked his arm. “Let’s get her checked out by a doctor and then we’ll go from there.”

Steve stepped up to Bucky. “Buck?” He clapped his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. “What do you want to do?”

Bucky eyed the papers in Steve’s hand, seeing the “Termination of Parental Rights” in bold at the top of the packet. His ears were ringing, his eyes wide as he fought off a panic attack. He looked at the baby again. She did look like him, a tuft of dark brown hair atop her head and his lips and dimpled chin. He stepped toward her and knelt down. He reached forward a finger and softly stroked her cheek. It made her stir a little and her eyes opened a little, flashing the same blue color of his eyes. She even shared his birthday. He smiled. “My baby,” he mumbled.

Bucky decided to name her Winnie, after his mother. The entire Avengers team had jumped into action that day, Tony and Pepper calling multiple people and getting baby items delivered to the compound, Bruce coming to take a DNA sample and do a preliminary check up on her until a pediatrician could come do a thorough examination, Steve and Sam standing with him as he held her and stared at her, giving him advice and trying to talk through what to do next.

As time went by he learned a lot. Tony brought in a few people to teach him parenting skills and how to feed her, change her, bathe her, what different cries could mean, and so much more that it made his head swim. He’d gotten the hang of it for the most part, getting into a routine with her, but on a night like tonight where the team was gone on a mission, with no one to help him, and it didn’t seem to matter what he did she just would not stop crying, he felt overwhelmed. Bucky didn’t know how parents did this, let alone with multiple children. He picked her up from the crib and cradled her against his chest, patting her back firmly but gently as his body bounced to try to soothe her again. She continued crying but it died down a little at having him close.

“Please, Winnie, I can’t…I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispered and shushed her. He quickly wiped his tears, but they kept coming as her head thrashed against his sternum, like she wanted to burrow into him. He carried her to the front room of his apartment suite in the compound then to the kitchen, grabbing another bottle and warming it in the microwave. The movement seemed to help calm her a little until she was sniffling, whimpering and only occasionally letting out a little wail. He made sure the formula wasn’t too hot then sat on the large sectional couch and leaned back against the pillow. Before she could start crying from the loss of movement he stuck the bottle in her mouth and she immediately started eating, her wet eyes blinking up at him as she drew in a shaky breath.

“There you go,” Bucky breathed. “See, all that fussing for nothing. You stinker,” he smiled as he sniffed and wiped his tears again. He snuggled her against him as he tried to even out his breathing. She was so tiny against his large frame that it made him smile wider. He hoped this would be enough to get her to sleep for longer than 45 minutes this time. He stared up at the ceiling then got an idea.

“Friday?”

“Yes Sergeant Barnes?”

“I need interviews with potential nannies,” Bucky said, looking back down at Winnie. “Specifically for live-in, night nannies.”

“I’ll compile a list and reach out for preliminary interviews. Any specific qualifications that you would like to have listed?”

“No, just someone who knows what they’re doing,” Bucky sighed, his eyes getting heavier.

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you,” he yawned as Winnie finished the bottle. He burped her, thanking whatever higher being there was in the universe for her milk-drunk expression as she drifted back to sleep, joining her shortly after.

**Once again, thank the AI/Photoshop gods for this perfect picture of Bucky found on Pinterest.**

@angelbabyyy99 @capswife @julvrs @bellabarnes1378 @mostlymarvelgirl @mega-kittyglitter-1 @buckitostan @drdbnkl2008 @wintrsoldrluvr @danzer8705

#marvel #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #series fanfic #curvy reader #plus size!reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #single dad!bucky barnes #nanny!reader #chapter 1

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

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ONE SHOT: HIS LITTLE GIRL

PART TwO OF THE DARK & SEXY SERIES

NOTE: This is a series of one shots and mini series for Cillian Murphy & Tommy Shelby in which he acts totally off-canon. Most of these shots are very dark in nature and you should read their individual warnings. All of these shots are requests from readers. Co-written with @darkshelbyfiction! ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18. MINORS DNI.

PAIRING: CILLIAN MURPHY X VIRGIN READER

WARNING: DUB-CON, LOSS OF VIRGINITY, FORCED BREEDING (SOMEWHAT), DDLG-STYLE STORY, HUGE AGE GAP

It was Friday Evening, a few weeks after your 18th birthday and, as usual, you were out with friends when you ended up in some trouble.

You were sitting at the bar, nursing a drink when a group of guys started harassing you. They kept commenting on how pretty you looked and wouldn't leave you alone.

You knew you couldn't handle them, so you did what you always do when you needed help and your father was away for work. You called your father's friend, Cillian who had been dealing with your misbehavior and troublesome nature for quite some time after your parents had divorced.

He was an attractive man, in his mid-forties, with slightly greying hair and piercing blue eyes; he possessed a dominating and intimidating aura that seemed to command respect and when you saw him enter the bar, you were relieved.

"Cillian! Thank God you're here! I was being harassed by these creeps," you said, your voice cracking slightly as you tried to maintain composure while still trembling from fear as he walked in.

His eyes scanned the crowd, locking onto the group of men huddled together near the bar entrance.

"Y/N, let's get out of here," he said firmly, taking your hand and leading you away from the commotion. You felt a surge of relief, grateful that he had arrived just in time.

As you walked through the crowded bar, you could feel the stares of the other patrons on the back of your neck. You glanced sideways at Cillian, admiring his confident posture and the way he held his head high, as if daring anyone to challenge him. The mere thought of having someone take care of you sent a warm feeling coursing through your veins.

"What the fuck are you doing in a place like this anyway?" Cillian asked as he led you outside into the cool night air. "I mean, it's not like you've ever been much for restraint, but really now, Y/N?"

You didn't respond right away, instead opting to focus on breathing in the fresh breeze wafting over the cityscape. But then, you offered a sheepish smile and replied, "Well, I decided to try something new, and here we are."

Cillian snorted in response before offering to take you to his place since it was late and there wasn't any sense in letting you walk home alone, let alone allow you to stay in the empty house by yourself.

"Okay, but can you not tell dad about this?" you asked hesitantly, looking up at Cillian.

"Sure, I will promise to keep quiet if you promise me to behave yourself the next time you go out and do not go to shady places like these," he replied gruffly, flashing a lopsided grin at you. His car was parked a few blocks away and the walk was a welcome change from the crowded bar. You chatted idly as you made your way to the vehicle, the tension from earlier beginning to dissipate.

Once inside the car, Cillian drove smoothly toward his apartment, and you couldn't help but admire the strength emanating from him despite his calm demeanor.

When you arrived at Cillian's place, he unlocked the door quietly, leading you upstairs to his living room with a protective hand on your lower back. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as he fumbled around in the dim light trying to find the switch for the lights.

Finally, the room lit up, revealing the tasteful decor and cozy furniture and, since he had only just moved into this new apartment, you took some time to assess your surroundings.

This place was a stark contrast to your father's modest abode - it was bigger, brighter, and filled with modern art pieces that hung on the walls. There was even a balcony overlooking the city, which would make for an amazing spot to watch the sunrise on lazy mornings. You realized that this was the first time you actually saw Cillian's home and it made you feel a bit awkward. However, you soon found your bearings and started making small talk with him as you waited for him to gather some blankets and pillows for you to sleep on the couch.

"Now tell me, how is school going for you?" Cillian asked casually, knowing that you were just about to sit your final exams, breaking the silence between you both as he took a seat next to you on the couch and handed you a glass of water.

"Oh, same old stuff, you know, studying, taking tests," you replied nonchalantly, shrugging off the question.

"And that boyfriend of yours? How is he doing?" he continued, a hint of worry creeping into his tone after he had met this young man a few weeks ago.

"We broke up last week," you admitted, feeling a pang of sadness. "It turned out that he was cheating on me all along."

Cillian placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"It's just. I never...I mean, I should have seen it coming," you mused aloud, swirling the ice around in your glass of water.

"Listen Y/N, you are a good girl. There will be others, others who are much more deserving of you," Cillian murmured softly, his thumb caressing your cheek gently, sending shivers down your spine. "But until then, don't rush things; it isn't healthy. Take some time for yourself, figure out what you want in life, and go for it."

"I guess you're right, Cillian," you sighed wistfully, staring blankly at the floor in front of you.

"I know I am right. I am always right," he mused, running a finger along your arm. You flinched at first, startled by the unexpected touch, but gradually relaxed under his gentle guidance. "Like I said, you are a smart girl, Y/N, so don't waste your youth on boys who don't deserve you," he went on to say before leaning closer.

You could smell the faint scent of soap and shampoo on his skin, a mixture of spice and cleanliness that made you feel strangely comfortable.

His fingers grazed your arm gently, sending a lightning bolt of excitement racing through your body. You wanted to pull away and yet, something strange compelled you to stay put.

"Thanks, Cillian," you managed to squeak out, your heart pounding loudly enough to drown out everything else.

"You are welcome," he responded smoothly, reaching over to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered against your cheek, and his scent enveloped you, leaving traces of warmth in your wake.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder while his fingers traced undefined patterns over your skin.

His fingers eventually followed a trail from your neck down to your breasts, and as they reached your chest, he paused.

"You are beautiful, you know that right?" he whispered into your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

"I guess, yes," you muttered, your heart hammering wildly beneath your ribs as Cillian's fingers moved downward.

"Good," Cillian said and you could feel the heat rising within you, intensifying every sensation and emotion. His touch was almost too much to bear, yet it was also irresistible. You swallowed hard, unable to look away, captivated by the sensations coursing through your body.

"Let me ask you, Y/N, has your boyfriend ever touched you up here?" asked Cillian, his fingers tracing circles over your clothed breasts and your eyes widened, and you gulped nervously. "Yes, sometimes he has," you mumbled, biting your lip to suppress a moan.

"How about down there? Has he touched your special place?" Cillian's fingers danced provocatively, inching closer to your groin.

Your heart raced, palms sweating, as you shook your head in disbelief. You'd never imagined this kind of situation with Cillian, but his presence was intoxicating, overwhelming your senses.

"No, no one has," you finally mustered.

"Really?" Cillian's tone grew huskier, his fingers now brushing against your inner thigh.

"I bet you're wet though, aren't you?" he asked you, smirking wickedly.

"No, I don't think so," you whimpered, but your voice lacked conviction as his fingers slid upwards, dangerously close to your panties.

"Come on, Y/N, admit it. I know you are aroused right now," Cillian coaxed, his voice low and seductive. "I have seen how you have been looking at me for years and now that you are old enough...," he then went on to say before trailing off and your face burned hot with embarrassment, but Cillian's fingers were relentless, dancing dangerously close to your panties.

"Cillian, we shouldn't," you protested weakly, but your heart raced and your breath quickened, betraying any attempt at resistance.

"Why not? Don't you want to be a good girl for me?" Cillian purred, his fingers teasing the edge of your panties.

"I do, but..." you trailed off, struggling to form coherent sentences.

"But what?" he prodded, his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. "Are you afraid of getting caught? Or maybe you think that you are still too young to have sex?" Cillian teased, his fingers expertly navigating through your underwear, his movements slow and deliberate.

"No, but I am nervous," you admitted, your voice barely audible. The anticipation building within you was overwhelming, and you desperately wanted to feel his breath on your skin.

"Nervous about what?" Cillian taunted, his fingertips pressing lightly against your clitoris beneath your underwear.

"I am nervous about having sex. I am worried that it will hurt when you put your, you know....in there..." you murmured, causing Cillian to chuckle.

"That's the thing, Y/N. The first time might be a little uncomfortable, but once you're used to it, it feels incredible. And trust me, I'll be gentle if you let me be your first," he assured you, his fingers now running over your wet slit, beneath your panties.

"I promise," he added, dipping one finger inside. You gasped softly, unprepared for the sudden intrusion.

"That feels weird," you gasped, gritting your teeth and clutching onto his arm for support.

"Because it's new," Cillian reassured you, his finger withdrawing briefly before sliding back in. "Try to relax, and breathe with me."

You nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on his voice, his rhythmic breathing. Slowly, you began to loosen up, allowing your muscles to unwind.

With each gentle thrust, you could feel his finger exploring deeper, discovering hidden depths within you.

You moaned softly, your hips undulating involuntarily, your breath becoming ragged.

Suddenly, he withdrew his finger, leaving you panting and wanting more.

"You are very wet now, Y/N," he murmured, his voice deepening even further as he pulled your panties down and slipped a digit back inside your folds. "And your pussy is so swollen, so ready for me. Please let me have sex with you," he begged you and your eyes shot open wide, and you gasped at the realization of what was about to happen if you said "yes"... You could feel your pulse throbbing in your veins, and your cheeks burning bright red.

"Come on Y/N. Let me put my cock inside that this little hole of yours. I promise it won't hurt for long," Cillian said, his voice dripping with lust. You glanced around nervously, aware that your heart was pounding uncontrollably and your breathing was heavy.

"You want to be my good girl, don't you?" Cillian whispered softly, his fingertip circling your nipple, creating a jolt of pleasure through your entire body.

"Okay, but you need to wear a condom," you interjected, swallowing nervously.

"Of course," Cillian reassured you before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small foil packet.

You watched intently as he undid his pants, pulled them down and then carefully removed the condom, rolling it onto his erect cock with practiced ease. Your heart hammered in your chest and your own juices pooled between your thighs at the sight of his engorged member.

"So beautiful. Now spread your legs for me, baby," Cillian instructed, his voice thick with desire. You did as you were told, your hands shaking with anticipation. Cillian knelt between your spread legs, his erection hovering just inches from your wet, eager pussy.

"Just like this, huh?" he asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your soaked opening. You whimpered, unable to contain your nervousness.

His cock looked huge in comparison to your small opening and the idea of having it inside you frightened you, but also excited you beyond belief.

"Relax, alright?" Cillian murmured softly, placing a supportive hand on your hip. "You might bleed a little, but it's completely normal. Trust me, it's nothing to worry about." His voice carried a soothing quality, and your heart rate gradually slowed down.

"Now, lift off the couch a little so that I can watch my cock go in," Cillian declared assertively, the intensity in his voice raising goosebumps across your arms.

You gulped, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

"Do you want me to lie back?" you ventured, feeling exposed yet curious after you adjusted your position.

"No, I want you to stay exactly where you are," Cillian insisted, his hand gripping your knee firmly.

"Okay," you murmured and Cillian sensed your apprehension and gave you a sly glance.

"Relax, Y/N. We are going to do this right," he assured you, his eyes locked on you. "It is going to be fun, okay? Just trust me."

You gave a weak nod, your heartbeat echoing in your ears, and a thin film of perspiration formed on your forehead. Cillian leaned in, his breath hot on your skin as he whispered, "Ready?"

"Yeah," you managed to croak back, your voice hoarse from anxiety.

You shifted restlessly on the couch, your heart pounding in your chest like a jackhammer. Cillian's firm grip on your knee grounded you, and gradually, you began to settle into the moment.

"Don't worry, I'll go slow," Cillian whispered, his voice rich and husky as he pressed the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You inhaled, steadying yourself, bracing for the pain.

"Breathe with me, Y/N," Cillian coaxed, his breath hot on your skin. "Take a deep breath and push out your pelvis."

You complied, your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on relaxing your muscles. Cillian eased forward, and with a slight pop, his cock breached your tight barrier.

"Ow!" you cried out, instinctively tightening against the intrusion.

"It's okay, Y/N," Cillian murmured encouragingly, stroking your upper thigh. "Just relax and remember to breathe."

You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as you forced yourself to relax. Cillian maintained a steady pressure, guiding his cock deeper into your slick, tight channel. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, threatening to burst free at any moment.

"Almost there," Cillian whispered, his voice sounding far away.

You grunted softly, feeling the stretch and burn intensify.

Cillian continued to guide his cock deeper, his pace steady and measured. The discomfort was overwhelming, but you focused on taking measured breaths, reminding yourself that this was part of the process.

"Alright, Y/N, we're halfway there," Cillian murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You're doing great."

"Is it supposed to hurt like this?" you whimpered, squirming uncomfortably.

"It is supposed to hurt a little," Cillian answered honestly before adding, "but it won't last forever. Just breathe and stay still for me. You will get used to the feeling soon," he reassured you and you took several deep breaths, willing yourself to relax. There was some blood on the cushion beneath you, but you pushed the image aside and focused on the task at hand.

Eventually, you felt him bottom out inside you, his cock filling you up completely with a sensation you hadn't experienced before.

Your heart pounded furiously, and your breathing became ragged.

"You're so damn tight, it feels so fucking good," Cillian groaned, his voice strained and husky and, despite his efforts, his cock twitched inside you, growing harder.

"Please," you managed to whisper, unsure whether you were agreeing to continue or begging him to stop. You could feel your insides quivering, an unfamiliar sensation spreading throughout your body. It was pleasurable at last and this, mixed with the pain, confused you.

Cillian's grip on your knee tightened slightly, steadying himself as he prepared to begin moving. He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly.

"Okay, Y/N, I'm going to start moving now," he warned, his voice husky and low. "Just relax and tell me if it hurts too much."

You managed a weak nod, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing yourself for the inevitable pain. Cillian began to move, his cock sliding back and forth inside you with agonizing slowness.

Each stroke sent waves of pleasure-pain coursing through your body, making you moan softly. You could feel his warm breath on your neck, and your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest. he growled in your ear, his voice low and gravelly.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're wound tighter than a spring. I can feel you clenching around me, fighting the urge to come undone."

You squirmed uneasily, your heart pounding like a war drum in your chest. "Cillian, please," you whimpered, your voice cracking like a gunshot. "Please, I can't," you moaned but he silenced you with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth, tasting of salt and sin. His cock pulsed inside you, relentless as an iron fist.

It seemed to fill you up more fully with each passing second, and the exquisite torment it inflicted upon your tender flesh drove you to distraction.

"Feel it, Y/N?" Cillian whispered, his voice husky and low. "My cock is stretching you to your limits and it feels so good. You are so tight and so warm," he groaned and you could only nod in agreement, your breaths ragged and desperate. Cillian's cock surged inside you, thrusting deeper and harder with each passing moment.

Each movement sent delicious spasms through your body, making you moan helplessly. You could feel yourself unraveling around him, losing control of your inhibitions.

"Oh, God, Cillian," you whimpered, your voice cracking with desperation. "You feel so good inside me."

Cillian's eyes gleamed with triumph, his cock swelling larger and thicker. An insatiable hunger ignited within you, driving you to claw at his shoulders and squeeze his ass tightly.

"That's a good girl," Cillian rasped, his cock pulsing intensely within you. "Taking my cock like a champ."

You could feel the walls of your pussy clenching around his invading shaft, contracting rhythmically like a vise. Each contraction brought another wave of ecstasy, as you surrendered yourself to the blissful agony consuming you.

"Oh, fuck," Cillian groaned, his cock flexing powerfully within you. "So goddamn tight," he gasped before pulling out of you abruptly. "How about you turn around for me now and get on to your hands and knees," he ordered.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding against your chest like a madman. But somehow, you trusted him. After all, he was Cillian Murphy—the man you've fantasized about for what felt like a lifetime. With a trembling hand, you slowly rotated your body until you were facing the opposite direction. You bent over, your hands supporting your weight on the couch cushions.

"Perfect," he praised. "Stay like that."

You heard him shuffling around behind you but did not pay much attention to what he was doing as, unbeknownst to you, he pulled the condom off his shaft and discarded it on the floor, wanting to fuck you bare.

He then grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you back against him. His bare shaft entered you, feeling warmer and smoother than before.

It slid effortlessly into your welcoming pussy, the sensation of his flesh against yours setting fire to your nerves.

"Something feels different," you gasped, confused, but Cillian silenced you.

"Shh," Cillian hushed you, his warm breath fanning your ear. "Everything's fine," he said before he thrust into you again, his cock sliding deeply within you with a hungry growl. The sensation of his naked cock penetrating you felt amazing for him and you, but you still did not know why it felt different then before and put it down to the change in positioning.

For Cillian, this act was raw, primal, and absolutely thrilling. The thought of having his cum inside you thrilled him even more, claiming you as his.

"God, Y/N," he gasped, his breath hot on your neck.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," he groaned and you bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan.

"Cillian," you whimpered, your voice hoarse with desire, still unaware that he was now fucking you raw. His bare cock was inside you now just as he was getting ready to cum and you knew nothing about it.

"I am close baby. So fucking close," Cillian muttered while slamming into you. Each thrust filled you with an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that left you breathless.

"Oh, God, Cillian," you moaned, your voice cracking with desperation.

You could feel the walls of your pussy clenching around his invading shaft, contracting rhythmically like a vice and, soon enough, you could not take it anymore and came undone.

You orgasmed, spasming around his cock, milking him and forcing you both to shout out in euphoria.

You felt your inner walls tighten around him, and Cillian's cock swelled, spurting hot cum deep inside you. His seed mixing with your wetness, marking you as his.

"Fuck," he groaned, his seed bursting forth, painting your insides white. You gasped in shock, your body tensing up as his semen spilled into you.

You felt the warm sticky substance trickling down your inner thighs but did not think anything of it, ignoring it in post-orgasmic bliss.

Then, after a few more thrusts, Cillian pulled out of you and collapsed beside you on the couch and, immediately, you sat up, your gaze landing on the spot where both of you had been lying.

You didn't notice it initially, but now, you couldn't help but stare at that spot while Cillian reached for a box of tissues and, without words, handing you a wad of paper towels.

"What for?" you asked, puzzled as and he gestured to your pussy, leaking his cum.

You stared at your own pussy before registering what had taken place. He had ejaculated inside you. The thought made you blush profusely but you didn't say anything.

You clean up the mess with the tissue, wiping up the remnants of his release before tossing it in the trashcan.

"Your pussy looks so good, leaking my cum," Cillian says, admiring your visibly flushed face and damp hair.

"Why did you do that?" you ask, knowing full well that he intentionally removed the condom.

"I wanted to claim you," Cillian replies, his voice deep and resonant. "I needed to show you that you belong to me; that we are meant to be together," he told you while caressing your cheek gently with his thumb. "And now you are mine," he added confidently before forcefully kissing you again, his lips crushing yours hungrily till your body weakened under his passion.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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tinytennisskirt · 7 months ago

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A Slippery Slope

Summary: Every girl has their favourite ex. The one they will forever have a soft spot for. Reader is above all of that, doing all she can to avoid Art when he’s back in town for tennis. Unfortunately, he’s unavoidable and has a lot of things to say about the way he left things…

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, rehashing a breakup, kind of hurt/comfort? I’m not sureee

It’s not like you were stalking him or anything… and if you were, it was totally normal for girls to stalk their exes. Part of being a girl is stalking your ex, like a rite of passage. You were just lucky his progress and whereabouts were publicized.

Art Donaldson was going to be in your hometown again after leaving for college three years ago. His tennis brought him here, a tiny little tournament. It was a charity game, so people paid to watch. It was in the news that Art had refused to receive any portion of a winning and that it go directly to a children’s hospital in Canada. As sweet as that was, it was also presumptuous that he would win. You scoffed a little to ignore the fact he was there on the website, smile gleaming, curls all blonde and pretty. He was sweet, you had to ignore that.

The feeling that him coming back here gave you was a mix of anxiety and anticipation. For what? You didn’t know exactly. He would be back and you could go to his game for $20. Like it was nothing, you could see him in the flesh again. But you said no, because your best friend would probably yell at you and kick your ass. So you shut the screen and pretended like it wasn’t real.

When the tournament was in town, the Main Street turned into a giant sale. Every shop had a tent outside of itself enticing people to come by. You avoided it the past week, getting to work by an extra-long route. It was easy not to think about him (though you did from time to time) when he was off somewhere far playing tennis- but now that it was here and there were posters up and the library promoted it and the lamppost flags were changed to commemorate the event, they may as well have plastered Art’s face all over everything.

The tournament was tomorrow now. Soon you had no reason to worry about. It would be easy. It was around seven and the summer sun still warmed the air, but it was getting chillier with every ten minutes that passed by. You headed down from your little above-bakery apartment, bag in hand and flip phone in the other. The walk to the bar was delightful, a good thing after a busy day at work.

You walked in and sat at the bar, your usual spot for Friday nights. You usually never went to the bar alone- it was often you and your best friend but she was on a first date and you still needed your gin. You ordered a small drink, strong though. Tasted a bit gross but it was fine- you deserved it. After all this avoidance, all of this torture, being on complete edge- plus work.

You got another drink and sipped on it while checking your email on your phone. Flipping through unread, work emails, messages from friends about an upcoming birthday and what food to bring. A few more drinks, light, hard, you were tipsy but not drunk. Enough to be satisfied and fuzzy. You were conversing with the bartender who you knew well- she was a friend of a friend and you were a regular. You were struggling to hear her over the noise of a nearby group of guys.

“Another round of shots for the boy!”

“Woah, woah, I can’t get drunk guys, I told you,” another voice piped up. You recognized it. You hated how your head turned. Your heart stopped for a moment. Amongst the crowd, in the very centre, was the very blonde mop of curls that had been haunting your dreams for the past week. It was Art. He was here. Right now. In the bar with you. “Okay, maybe another shot.” He grinned at his friends.

Your heart beat hard in your chest. And you were about to look away to save yourself- but his eyes met yours and it was immediately too late. Blue eyes on yours. And his grin dampened to an open-mouthed look of awe. You looked away and grabbed your bag to pull your wallet out and pay as fast as you could. All of the avoidance, all of the torment, just how shitty it was to know he was back- it all was falling in on you.

All you had to do was avoid it all. And it was too late. You paid quickly and apologized for rushing off and you got up to go and he was right there in front of you.

“Y/N,” Art said. He still looked a little surprised. But this was your hometown. You blinked hard and pushed your hair away from your face. He was really here, he was here standing in front of you. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you replied. You didn’t want to look at him, you were nervous, afraid, intimidated. What if you weren’t improved enough- or prettier than you were before. Something about seeing an ex that made you re-evaluate yourself. “How are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?” He answered, upbeat. “I didn’t expect to see you here. If I had known you were still around I might have messaged.”

Would he really? It felt like a jab at the fact you still lived here. “I’m alright. I’ve been working.” You wished you weren’t tipsy, but he seemed so as well.

“I have a tournament tomorrow- are you going?” Maybe he drank more than you.

“I have work,” you told him. “It’s good to see you though, I have to be on my way, I’m so sorry-“ You lied. As good as it was to see him, you’d been afraid of seeing him again, feeling things again. The risk was very real, no matter what he had done wrong before.

He narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to see you. I’m glad I caught you. I’ve been… um… ever since I got here I’ve been thinking about you. I was going to call tomorrow after the tournament.”

You blinked a few times, “Oh,” you said. As you said, the risk was very real. “I- um. Sorry, I’ve been drinking.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I get it.”

“I’m really sorry, I’m out of it,” you followed up. He was prettier than you remembered. His curls were more defined, longer. He matured, he looked more adult, but still young. He had been thinking about you… meaning to call… “It’s been good to see you, Art. And good luck at your tournament.”

“Do you really have to go, Y/N? I know I’m out of it too but you’re here and I… I know you.” He did. Somehow. He knew you were lying.

You sighed, “I really am sorry, I’m just tired.” You’d thought about how you’d act if you saw him again but your mouth was moving faster than your mind, trying to get you out of the situation because it felt like fight or flight. “Goodnight.” You tried to go again but he kept speaking.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked. You stopped walking and turned back to him. He was out of it, but you were a woman walking downtown at night. Usually you’d be with your girlfriends and you’d never travel alone and it didn’t occur to you that you would be. As much as you hated this current situation, it was safer. You nodded, slowly. And started mentally preparing. Would you seem impressive compared to his feats since you broke up? Did you look okay? Was everything okay?

Art ditched his friends. He didn’t say goodbye, he just stepped out with you. You were silent. “Did you dye your hair?” He asked as you began to walk.

You nodded, “Highlights, so kind of.”

“Ah,” he nodded back. “How have you been the past few years?” You remembered the healing process after him.

“I’ve been okay. Like I said, just working a lot. I have my own apartment now and some good friends. It’s not like college and travelling around to fun cities for tennis.” You said. He looked at his feet, smiling. You’d just given away that you’d kept tabs on him. “It’s not like I don’t have access to your Facebook. Or tennis news.”

He grinned at you. “Well I wish they had more hometown news because as many times as I’ve checked I couldn’t find anything about you anywhere. Look- I was going to call you tomorrow because I wanted to apologize to you properly. I know how I left sucked. I wished immediately and over the past few years that I’d gone about it differently and I want to apologize to you. Properly. And not now. Sober. Completely.” He said. His grin had lowered.

“I don’t need an apology, I dealt with everything when you left,” you told him a little too candidly.

He ran a hand through his hair, his blue eyes meeting yours. “I know. But it’s been eating me alive and I’ve spent every day since feeling guilty. I want to apologize right- I’m here now and as a man, I hate to beg but would you give me a chance to do that? We can get dinner after the tournament, my treat.” He had a hint of a smile.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you repeated. “I’m glad you’ve done some reflecting but you hurt me. I want to say no, Art.”

“I know.” He said, smile falling. “But I’m not who I was then. And I know better. If you hear me out and it’s not sufficient, I’ll be gone in two days and I’ll just be tennis news again.”

You both stopped walking and the silence was filled by the wind in the trees of the park that you passed with a small hint of the noise of cars on a nearby main road. He looked at you in a way that was so familiar, eyes soft- and new demeanour of being on the verge of giving up. But you saw his sincerity, unfortunately, locking eyes with his on this sidewalk. All he did was shrug and you shook your head slowly, eyes not leaving his.

“Okay,” you said, hushed. And a small smile creeped back onto his face. And you both, in unison, continued walking wordlessly. He walked you to the door of your building and stayed until you unlocked the door. “Goodnight, Art.” You said, stepping in.

He raised his hand, not waving, just raised, and smiled a small smile, his face illuminated from the golden light of the hallway, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

And you went to bed that night slightly freaked out, a little excited, and extremely nervous.

The next day rolled around and the same anxiety was NOT slept off. You worked a bit from home- You showered, did your hair the way you usually did, did your makeup and dressed in something that was comfortable, but nice enough for a warm summer day. A skirt, a cute top, comfortable shoes.

You replayed Art’s proposal. Dinner, he had said. You didn’t want dinner with him, that made it real, that felt like… too much of the past. Too close to something dating people would. You’d head over for his last game- you didn’t need to stay all day. It was nearing four o’clock when the next game was scheduled.

Above all, he was sorry. And he said he felt guilty and for a good while you convinced yourself he didn’t care and didn’t miss you or think about you at all- so hearing that he did unravelled a bit of your healing process. It’s not like it was an aching wound, but more like reopening a time capsule.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, putting your earrings in. This was a slippery slope, dinner would be the slipperiest, but you grabbed your bag and headed to the tournament.

You found a seat at the top, the last row.

You’d seen him play before a few years ago, but when he came onto the court today it was different. He had a new attitude and confidence and you could see it as the game started and he hit the ball with everything he had. And it was something you hated because it was hot and it shouldn’t have been. You had to look away a few times just to spare yourself but the sounds he made on the court reminded you of something and you hated it.

There was nothing you could do but tell him dinner was a no. And you were sorry. The game ended and he won, triumphantly, with a great cheer from the crowd that their hometown boy had won. You were somewhat proud of him- you never stopped, even after the breakup. He was doing well for himself. The crowd funnelled out after the game ended, but you stayed seated atop the metal bleachers that lined the court. And you contemplated how to be kind and apologetic in a way that told him you were better off not having dinner, whilst not giving away the fact that you were thinking about him in a way that scared you because it was an old, buried feeling. Without showing him that the apology meant hope. You were a strong, independent woman now and you could speak up and this just wasn’t a good idea. You were-

“Hey,” Art said. He stood down a few rows of the bleachers and waved. “I thought you wouldn’t show.”

“Me too,” you said. The sun was beginning to lower in the sky. “That was a good game. Congrats on the win.” You tried to be flat, but you were too genuine-sounding.

He chuckled, “Thanks. I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” you replied. His smile grew but you saw him fight it. “Look, Art-“

“No I know,” he cut you off. “Dinner feels too intimate. Do you just want to go grab frozen yogurt? It’s honestly all I’ve thought about today- is there still that 24/h place that we used to think was insane hours for frozen yogurt?”

You blinked a few times before the relief set in. And you smiled a full smile, not meaning to, but you did. “That sounds- yes. Yeah, it’s still there.” You grabbed your bag and got up from your seat.

I’ll be ten minutes just to shower and we’ll go- if that’s okay?” He smiled back. The weight of a real dinner was lifted. No spiel involved, though frozen yogurt distracted you from the fact there was still a code of yours to uphold and it was to keep from slipping. You nodded and he went to do so and you waited outside the court. He was out soon enough with his things and he walked over to a car that you assumed was his the way he loaded his things in. His hair was still wet from the shower and as he passed you, he smelled clean and… familiar. You hated that.

The conversation in the car was about the game and that was easy. You pointed out some things you saw from his opponent and things you noticed him do. He answered every question of yours. And then you were there.

“How did they stay open all this time?” He said, entering. You shushed him and he put his hands up in surrender.

“High quality and good tourism,” you replied, getting the flavour you wanted. “Did you miss it here?”

“Here or here as in town?” He asked.

“Home,” you answered. He got his flavour and walked to the toppings.

“I missed some things about it, yeah. Not many things, but a good few.” He stayed vague.

“I think I would like to miss it someday,” you told him. “I’ve been here too long.”

“Travel?”

“Saving up for a house,” you told him. “I’ll travel when I’m old, I think. When retirement money comes in and I don’t have kids to pay for.”

“I thought you didn’t want kids?” You both paused. You paused at the fact he remembered that and he paused at the fact he said an inside thought aloud.

You blinked hard a few times and put on a few toppings. “I’m- um- I’m not sure. I think I was young and inclined to the idea of being a working woman with no distractions and now I feel that… I’m older, so. I feel like maybe it’s not the best thing ever to have no distractions.”

He cleared his throat, “That’s fair.” Silence. The place was empty anyways. You brought your frozen yogurt to the scale and the price came up. Art walked over with his and pulled his debit card out. “My treat, remember?”

You did forget. He paid right then and there and then paid for his own and you thanked him but the silence still hung over you both even in the sound. In the car, you ate your frozen yogurt and the topic turned back to tennis and it was easy. Talking to him about passions was just like no time had passed at all- and it was interesting to hear the ins and the outs and the tells of tennis. But he stopped the car eventually, outside his hotel. You wondered if he was about to banish you home out of nowhere.

“I have to interrupt- I was wondering if you wanted to come up to my room for a bit, I feel like with the impending conversation maybe you’d want to be somewhere quiet and I wasn’t about to invite myself over.” Art said. You nodded. “You will?”

“I will,” you agreed, though you didn’t want to. It felt wrong, like a mistake, like the edge of a cliff and a slippery slope all at once. He smiled and got out of the car with his frozen yogurt. Your mind lingered on how considerate it was, despite the intimacy of being alone with nothing to see but him. “I appreciate that a lot though.”

“I know you like privacy,” he replied. You went up to the 14th floor, two down from the top and followed him down the hall. The room was standard. Large, but one bed, presumably a pull out couch, a chaise lounge, a small kitchen, a big bathroom and a tv. His things were all in one corner. You immediately took a seat on the chaise which was near the bench at the end of the bed that Art immediately sat on. It was a bit real. It was more than a bit, it was real.

He looked at you, blue eyes with their bits of brown and his long eyelashes. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” He started. He was jumping in. Your heart sped a little and you suddenly felt a pit in your stomach. “I was stupid. And naive and convinced that I would thrive more when I left for college.”

“You did,” you nodded. A nod to his success.

“But my intention was wrong. You… loved me. And I took advantage of that for the idea of a perfect college experience with Patrick- full of smoking and drinking and girls.” Your stomach flipped hearing his words. “I felt the guilt from the moment I left, I just shut it up with vodka and constant tennis and it was hard but it was manageable but it doesn’t mean I didn’t think of you.”

You kept your eyes locked with him and set your frozen yogurt on a nearby table. He took the time and did the same, but he looked at you for something. “You could have come back. Or called- even if you called-“ you cut yourself off. You were jumping too quickly. But it was Art and Art was easy to talk to. “When you left, I knew that. I knew what you wanted and I didn’t believe that you would truly let it go.”

“I didn’t,” he said.

“But there was no proof. To me, you left me for the ability to drink and kiss and fuck and it broke me because I was young and all I had to give was myself.” Your eyebrows knit closely together. He looked guilty. “And with no proof, I just… I was upset for a long time, but I slowly got over it.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I know now,” you sighed. “Unfortunately it was hard to get you off my mind.”

“I tend to have that effect,” he smiled a little and so did you.

“Apparently so do I,” you countered. He grinned his perfect crooked smile. “But you hurt me. Badly. And I missed you for years but you didn’t even reach out on my birthdays so what could I think other than you’re out there succeeding and had put me in the past.”

“It’s why I’m here, or- why you’re here. I needed you to know that I thought about you all the time. It ruined my relationship with another girl because she knew I was hung up even when I didn’t. And when I found out the tournament was here, I just… I knew I had to see you. I had to face what I did. I know it was shitty, I know not speaking sucked, I just… I want you to know how sorry I am. And how much I wish I hadn’t left.” He looked genuine, his regret radiating off his skin. Your heart skipped a beat or two and your breathing picked up a little. “I wish I hadn’t left you, I traded you for something so fucking meaningless, it kills me.”

You had to stand your ground, because you knew the moment he said that- that all of your healing was coming undone. It unravelled and floated down to the floor, useless. You recognized the look on his face too well, you missed the look on his face. He wanted you. “I really-“ you started but stopped. The slope was icy, slick and smooth and at your very feet. One wrong move and you’d fall down it. And all of the healing, all of the time, all of it would have been for nothing and what would that mean? You had to have some sort of stance against this, some little bit of resistance. His voice was too soft, his eyes too sweet. “You should have told me that ages ago if it’s truly how you felt.” You said. You hated being dismissive this way. “I accept your apology.” But he didn’t look happy to hear that.

“I wanted to call, but I’d left things so badly I wasn’t sure if it would just reopen wounds or…” he had a desperation in his eyes.

You picked up your bag, your stomach doing flips and your heart beating at a crazy pace. You had to go. The slope was too slippery. “Art, I accept your apology. Thank you for the frozen yogurt and for the privacy and inviting me up here. I really should go, it’s getting late.” It was too easy to want to fall down that same slope, to tumble into him, to crash, to even burn. It was too tempting and you just… couldn’t do it. Couldn’t handle it. You stood up and walked toward the door and you felt him get up behind you.

“Wait, please?” He said. “Y/N, I have more to say.”

“I heard everything I wanted to hear four years ago,” you replied, turning before the hotel room door. “Unfortunately too late and I just feel… the same. You did trade me for the opportunity to have sex with girls shamelessly. Everything we had was just gone at the drop of a hat because you felt like it and you left me here to pick up the pieces and knowing you wanted to tell me all of these things since you left? While I waited by my phone every single night in case you called to change your mind, convincing myself day after day that you were just busy until I convinced myself that I was never worth anything to you- do you know how much that hurt? Having everything I ever wanted in a person who knew me like the back of their hand and being dropped for a college party era… I…”you huffed and he kept his eyes on you, listening, but eyes sad. “I convinced myself that it was all fake because what other explanation did I have? And it’s not like I could call to clarify, you left me. And it took forever to stop having nightmares about you and even when they were dreams they hurt. I missed you more than I missed anything and you showed no signs of regret or remorse or even missing me in the slightest. You broke my heart when you left, Art. And I’ve been better.”

There was silence in the room. It lasted a minute and a half. He seemed to be taking in every word you’d said. He cleared his throat eventually and he looked more upset than he had this whole time, “It kills me that I did that to you but every day was a constant battle. No girl out there was worth it- nothing was. But we were so far apart and- fuck I have only excuses but I know I did you wrong. And I know I hurt you and I can’t undo it but I can be here now and tell you that you look just as and even more beautiful than you did then. And even after not speaking for years I feel like we never stopped. And I have never stopped having feelings for you so seeing you last night in that bar just about took me all I had to not immediately pour my heart out in hopes that maybe you would forgive me enough to let me try again.”

Try again? Your hand rested on the door handle and you looked at him in disbelief. “Art, I can’t.” You said. He was standing in front of you, looking down at you, over you. His eyes were wet, you noticed, and he was breathing just about as hard as you were as your heart pounded in your chest.

“I can live without, I know we’re older and you might have moved on,” he said under his breath. “But I’ve never stopped wanting you and seeing you has made it so apparent. I can’t escape you, so even if you walk out that door right now nothing I’ve said will change.”

“You were everything, Art,” you told him, hushed. “But you hurt me and it would be wrong to go…” He swayed closer, over you, close to you. “-Back.” Your eyes met.

“I don’t care if it kills me. It almost did leaving you the first time but if…” he swayed near again. Your lips parted and your eyes stayed trained on his. “If you let me… I wouldn’t go anywhere. If I can promise you anything it’s that I know now that I need you.”

“You’ve gone years without,” you said, standing your ground. “You’ll manage.”

“I don’t know if I will,” he sighed, his blue eyes a dark shade of grey in the dim lamplight of the hotel room. His voice stayed low. “Not this time.”

“Why?”

“I told you why. It’s been a mistake, I’ve wasted years of my life just thinking and never acting and I need you to know I still want you. You stand here and you’re questioning it but you’re at my door and you haven’t left.”

“Maybe I want to hear you out,” you reasoned, it took all you had not to stutter and stumble over your words. Your hand gripped the door handle harder, knuckles whitening. “Thank you for your apology and for telling me how you felt.”

“Thank you for letting me,�� he hushed to a whisper again. In his eyes, through the focus and lock on your own, you saw his hurt. You saw how genuine he was. But the silence was still and he was close to you, too close, but just close enough. Just about as close as you were to slipping. Down the slope… “Y/N…” he trailed off.

“You missed me? You missed me…”

“Every day.” He confirmed, the gap between growing smaller every second. “And I’ll never stop being sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. You don’t have to say anything for sure, but I want to try. If you’ll let me. I would do anything to not have to miss you like this. I promise you.” His nose grazed yours, that’s how close he was. You looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Art…” you sighed.

“Yeah?” He looked into your soul the way his eyes kept hold on yours. He wanted to smile, you could tell.

“I’m not sure.”

“I know. That’s completely fair-“

You cut him off, “I don’t know.

“I know.” He replied. “I know what I can give can match what you gave me. I want to give you everything I couldn’t, I-“

“I know,” you echoed.

“Please,” He said, the way he looked at you was so soft. His eyebrows were knit in the centre, he was pleading with only one word.

“How do I know?”

“You don’t. But you can take my word.”

“What good is your word? You said you would stay and you didn’t, you said you loved me but you were gone a week later, you swore it was us.”

He looked exasperated, “I was young. And stupid. So stupid.”

“Very,”

“I know.” He echoed again. “And I’ve known. And everything has lead me back here.”

“How do I know you won’t leave for tennis again?”

“Nothing could take me away this time,” he said, voice still hushed. You were fighting a hard fight.

“You can’t promise that,” you retorted.

“Who can?” His voice echoed around your head. Who can promise to stay? Indefinitely? Eventually someone dies nobody can ever stay forever. There will always be an eventual absence. Your heart pounded in your chest, racing, pumping hard enough you could hear it. He looked at you with perfectly parted lips and eyes that just pleaded and an expression you missed for ages. Eyes locked on eyes, trained, centred. And closeness you craved for years. You were fucked, done for.

You grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into you. Though it wasn’t a kiss. It was the tightest embrace you could muster as he wrapped his arms around your waist, hands grasping at your sides, his other hand flat on your back, holding you close and your hands around his neck, tight. You missed this more than kissing him, you missed this more than most things. Younger you missed everything, but most, she just wanted to be held again. You thought about it for years. And his grip on you didn’t waiver one bit for the time you kept your embrace. He kept you flush against him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And he kept you that way for a long while. He didn’t want to let go, neither did you. But eventually, slowly, you both pulled away. The heat of the moment was gone and the apology was over and your heart still beat a little bit too quick. And he still wasn’t far. The silence was loud, but comfortable now.

“Can we try again?” He whispered. Plain and simple. He wasn’t asking for a promise- nobody could ever promise anything. Even you couldn’t promise. But it was him and even after years had gone by, it was always going to be him anyways. So why not?

You nodded.

#challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers fic #challengers x reader #art x reader #tinytennisskirt #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson one shot

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fuck1ng-queen · 20 days ago

Text

Better than the series

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: light discussion, you being a bit shitty, jealousy, oral sex, Noah using that damn mustache

Author comments: hi bestiessss, how are you? if you follow me, you may have seen a post i made about mustache!noah a few days ago and honestly, i didn't think that post would get so many notes (which makes me think that mustache!noah is something everyone is interested in). anyway, i'm going to hell for thinking about noah like that and i'm taking all of you with me, kisses!

"It was great, guys! Thank you so much! See you next week!" You said, pretending not to be so enthusiastic.

You finished your work and lowered the screen of your laptop with excitement. Friday afternoons were always full of expectations. The daily stress of adult life kept you away from your boyfriend much more than you would have liked, so the closer Friday night, the sacred moment for both of you, got, the more butterflies danced in your stomach. Of course, you weren't a little girl anymore, and you weren't in the "getting to know him" stage, but damn, when you realized who you were dating, it was hard not to feel like jelly.

You took a quick but strategically effective shower, dressed comfortably, perfumed your hair with Noah's favorite scent, and quickly ordered a car to be there as soon as possible.

With a backpack on your back and a smile on your face, you arrived ready for your special evening with Noah. It didn't matter what you were going to do, what mattered was that you were together. The door opened and he greeted you with a warm hug and a kiss before you snuggled down on the couch. How good it was to be with him, you felt as if the week hadn't passed you by, as if being in the warmth of his arms dissolved all the pain and worry in your life. You just wanted time to freeze so you could stay there forever, just you and him.

"I counted the minutes until today. Our Fridays are sacred, but some weeks are so exhausting that they make it even more special," you smiled and patted Noah's cheek. "What do you want to do today?"

He kissed your forehead, the mustache he had invented to keep on lately tickling you slightly and making you giggle.

"I love our Fridays too. But there's one thing… the guys are organizing a gaming session tonight," Noah replied.

You pulled away from his embrace a little, just for you to see him more clearly, blinking your eyes a few times in a row. "But today?" you asked, confused. "Noah, it's our night."

Noah scratched the back of his head, knowing his explanation wouldn't go over well, but he tried to explain himself anyway.

"It's Jay's birthday. He's alone at the exchange and we want to give a little joy to his day. I promise it won't take long."

You understand that Jay is alone and he misses his friends, especially Noah since they've known each other for so long, but you can't hide your frustration and immediately cross your arms in disappointment.

"You're always talking to them, we hardly have time for each other."

"But we're together every week, we see each other all the time, and Jay? Look at his side, the guy's all alone there. I bet you don't want to feel alone."

You stand up, getting off Noah's lap and reply, still frustrated, "Alone? That's how you're leaving me, alone. You should pay attention to me. It's Friday, Noah, our day!"

He stands up, and although you love that look on his face, his already closed face gets on your nerves. You hated it when Noah did that.

"Fuck, am I not here? I don't leave you alone, have I ever left you alone? I understand that today is our day, I really do, but you could put yourself in other people's shoes a little," Noah sighs, trying not to be a jerk and get into an argument with you. He thinks of better words to say to you before he continues. "He needs it today, he's been feeling very lonely lately."

You exchange glances: from his side, the silent plea for you not to be as angry as you already seem to be; from yours, the growing tension and frustration. You sigh, not wanting to start a fight, but feeling deeply annoyed.

"Fine," you just give in, seriously. "But I'm not happy about it."

Noah kisses your lips and only replies, "I promise it'll be quick. You can stay in the room with me while I play, I don't want you to feel left out."

You enter the room together, but the atmosphere is still charged. Noah begins to set up the computer for the game while you sit on the bed, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Gotta call Emma so we can watch something on call. At least that way I won't be totally left out and I'll have someone to talk to."

"Sure, good idea. Just don't be too mean to the character on the show," he replies absent-mindedly, but trying to be nice.

"Don't worry, he'll have all our attention," you reply, giving him a cynical smile.

Noah nods, a little relieved, as you pick up the phone to call your friend. He sits down in his gaming chair, turning on the neon light in the room, and off the regular bedroom light to make the room comfortable for both of you. He adjusts the headset to start while you lie on the bed fiddling with your cell phone, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Okay, guys, I'm here. Let's get started before Jay shows up."

You call your friend, and she somehow comes over to keep you company. You sit down on the bed with your laptop next to you and start watching the show. Noah, next to you, remains focused on the game, occasionally casting a furtive glance at you. A scene begins, highlighting the show's main character. He's handsome, wearing a shirt that, despite its formal appearance, is brightly colored and has some of its buttons undone, tight jeans, and aviator glasses that hide his deep brown eyes. But what really catches the eye is his distinctive mustache.

"Look at that man, that mustache is quite a sight," Emma jokes, her voice electronically present in the room. "This guy definitely knows how to use it to his advantage."

Noah, between the music playing and the laughter of his friends, hears you both burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room, and he makes a point of very discreetly removing one side of the headset from his ear, curious to know why you're laughing.

"The mustache is like… a sign of confidence. I bet he must be amazing in bed."

"Totally! Do you think he's good in bed just because he has a mustache?"

"Absolutely! He must know exactly how to use it. Just think, a guy with a mustache like that must have tricks we can't even dream of."

Noah finds himself increasingly interested in the conversation and can't help but mute the sound of his headphones, trying his best to pay attention, one eyebrow raised in excitement to know how far your conversation is going, and just pretend to play.

"It must be the kind that takes your breath away in seconds," you say, unaware that Noah is listening. "The kind that knows what they're doing, the kind that's… experienced."

"A lot more than most. If a guy with a mustache like that paid attention to me, I wouldn't care about anything else, I'd just need him and a glass of water to live."

You laugh at Emma's comment, but then you look at Noah out of the corner of your eye and become serious again. "Yes, but some people prefer to play."

Noah continues with his temporarily forgotten game, pretending not to be hearing, but his expression with his back to you shows that he heard every word you said. "To play, huh?" He just moves his lips, speaking silently.

The conversation between you continues, full of laughter and bold comments about the character on the show. Noah keeps the microphone muted for long moments, discreetly observing the interaction.

The show ends and Emma says goodbye to you. Your phone vibrates with a message from your friend:

"It was fun, but I'm going to leave you to sort things out. Good luck!"

You reply with a few words: "Thanks. See you, Emma."

You get into bed, feeling a little better for the laughs with her, but still annoyed that Noah's game is taking longer than he promised.

"Good night, Noah," you say, turning your back on him, then mutter something inaudible, still slightly annoyed, but mostly frustrated. He should have at least warned you that the evening was going to be like this and that you'd be ready to do something else.

Noah doesn't answer, otherwise you might think he was listening the whole time. He sighs, knowing it will take an extra effort to get your attention again.

(…)

The night stretches on and Noah finally shuts down his computer and takes off his headset. He looks at you lying on your back, and even though you're asleep, he knows that you're clearly distant. Without forgetting how you've been thinking about the man in the series, he laughs softly, touches his own mustache, and something in him is ignited.

He slowly moves closer, snuggling up to you under the covers, already pushing your hair aside to make room to kiss your neck, deliberately brushing his facial hair. You slowly stir from the tickle you feel and finally wake up when you feel Noah's big hand playing with the nipple of your breast under your clothes.

"Noah…" you sigh, still sleepy. "What are you doing?"

He keeps tracing long kisses down your neck, making you shiver, and in a low, teasing voice he says in your ear, "You think I'm not paying attention, don't you? Those comments about the guy on the show… Do you think he could make you feel that way?"

Your sleep begins to dissipate as he kisses you, making you sigh, feeling your resistance melt away.

"Did you hear that? I was just kidding…" You turn your face to find his almond eyes staring at you with desire, your ass beginning to feel his bulge growing behind you.

He pulls the blanket off you and turns you over on the bed, kneeling in front of you and pulling off your shorts and panties together. He pushes your legs apart and you moan softly, already completely surrendered to the moment.

"Kidding?" His laugh makes you throb. "I'm going to show you that I'm much better than any guy you see on TV."

And he dives between your legs, ready to taste you, but mostly to tease you. He kisses one side of your groin, then the other, making a point of brushing his facial hair against you, noticing how wet and thirsty it makes you.

"Noah… Please…" you moan, trying to move your hips closer to Noah's mouth. He smiles smugly and runs his tongue along your folds, which are throbbing with excitement.

He turns his attention to your clit, sucking and sucking, making everything hotter and wetter. The hairs on his mustache, which you had just imagined tickling you while watching the show, only made you feel more pleasure. Noah tastes you like a hungry man and brings you closer and closer to coming apart.

"Look at you, you tremble every time I run my mustache over that needy pussy… I don't think I'll be shaving anytime soon. Do you want me to shave, babe?" he asks, laughing and rubbing his nose against you.

"N-no Noah, I don't want you to…" and you moan as you feel two of his long fingers penetrating you, unable to finish the sentence. "Noah, please…"

He is relentless in the way he moves his fingers inside you, knowing every point of you, knowing exactly what to do to turn you on. Without much effort, he feels you clenching against his fingers, your thighs shaking in spasms, and he hears your voice break into a loud moan calling out to him as you cum hard in his mouth.

He pulls away from you and kneels in front of your still-spread legs to appreciate your throbbing folds and your flushed, orgasmic face. "You're such a silly girl sometimes." He smiles and runs his fingers, which were inside you moments before, through his own mustache and ends up sucking on his own fingers. "This is for you to learn to appreciate what you have."

And then he just gets up and leaves the room, laughing at the incredulous way you look at him, trying his best to maintain the idiotic character he's just created, even though he knows he'll be buried inside of you in a few minutes, making you cum a few more times to live up to your special Friday.

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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The Grateful Dad | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: When you lose Bradley's favorite possession while you're away for a work conference, he starts to panic when you get home.

Warnings: Fluff, swears, mentions of sex and pregnancy

Length: 1400 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is an optional one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time!

Check my profile for my masterlist

You just had a hunch. Something was telling you that the timing had worked out perfectly this month. It could have been that night that Bradley made you a romantic dinner for your birthday, complete with s'mores made over the stove burner. Or maybe it was the evening when he'd come into your office while you were grading exams and spread you out on your desk. It could have even happened that Sunday afternoon when he tried on his new dress whites for you.

But regardless, you weren't too surprised when your period didn't start the day it should have. You weren't shocked that it didn't come the following day either. You were in fact very excited when you had to find a store that was open late on the random Tuesday night when you were in Philadelphia for an academic conference.

You took a stack of pregnancy tests back to your hotel room and looked at them sitting in a row on the desk while you called your husband. You would take the tests in the morning as the instructions told you.

"Hey, Sugar."

His voice sounded extra raspy through the phone, and it made you smile at the Clear Blue Easy box in front of you.

"Hi, Beer Boy. How was work?"

"It was fine. I miss you. What time does your flight land on Friday night?"

"Kind of late. Not until ten."

Bradley groaned. "I can't wait to pick you up. I can't even enjoy the Hard Deck without you. Everyone just asks where you are the whole time, and the beers don't taste as good."

You smiled. Hopefully after you took a pregnancy test in the morning, you could tell him he'd have to keep drinking without you for a while. "I'll be home before you know it."

"You gonna send me a selfie?" he asked, and you could practically hear him smirking. You quickly snapped a photo of you all dressed for bed in his old tie dyed Grateful Dead shirt, and when you texted it, he moaned into the phone.

"You look so good in that. You look better out of it."

You laughed and said, "Maybe I'll send you another one in the morning while I take a shower."

"Oh, fuck. Please do. And then get your ass home to me."

The selfies you took in the shower the next morning and sent to him were a big hit with Bradley. And you had to admit that your smile had never looked brighter or happier than they did in those photos. Maybe with the exception of when you and Bradley reconnected at your ten year class reunion.

So you threw away all of the pregnancy tests and got dressed for your conference. And on the way there, you found exactly what you were looking for on Amazon and ordered it with a giddy laugh.

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

Bradley was waiting around, contemplating keeping his uniform on after work on Friday. He knew you would like that, but he still had hours until it was time to pick you up from the airport. So he changed into jeans and a backwards cap instead and decided to clean the house.

"Good, god," he murmured, simply closing the door to your messy office instead of even attempting to do anything constructive in there. First of all, you'd get pissed if he moved anything. And second, the food wrappers and dirty mugs were your problem to deal with, not his. "She's as bad as Nat."

You were kind of a slob, but he loved you and he was delighted when it was time to collect you from the airport. His week had been empty without you. At times it felt like he was still living in that ten year period when he didn't have you with him; nothing was wrong, exactly, but nothing was right either.

"Sugar!" he called out when he saw you at the airport. And holy shit, did you always look this beautiful? Had he been taking you for granted recently? He really hoped not, because you were fucking stunning even in leggings and a sweatshirt as you approached him with a gorgeous smile on your face.

"I missed you, Beer Boy." Your hands were on his neck as you kissed his lips and his mustache, and Bradley pulled you tight against his body. "You look cute in your hat."

He was going to take you home and fuck you hard into the mattress.

However, upon arrival, disaster struck. Bradley watched you open your suitcase on the bedroom floor and gasp as you dug around. "I think I lost your shirt."

Bradley's heart sank. "My Grateful Dead shirt?"

"Yeah."

"Sugar! What the fuck, baby?" he whined in desperation. He loved that stupid thing. He loved that you always wore it. He loved that you kept it with you for ten solid years between college and when you and he reunited. "Seriously?"

When you just winced, Bradley took out his phone. "Which hotel did you stay at again? I'll call them. Maybe one of the housekeepers found it." He had pulled up google to search for the phone number, but he saw you smiling out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't worry about it too much. I got you a replacement."

He thought his eyes were going to bug out. "A replacement? No, that shirt was vintage. Where did you possibly find a replacement?"

"Amazon!" you said brightly, and he groaned and dropped his phone. "Come over here and look at it!"

There was no way you couldn't tell that Bradley was pissed off as you stood and held up a hideous orange, brown and teal tie dyed monstrosity in front of him.

"Oh, no. No no no," he moaned as he read the front of it. "It's all wrong! It's like that 'No Regerts' tattoo meme. And don't even get me started on the colors."

You turned it around the other way so you could look at it, and you calmly told him, "It looks good to me."

Bradley was sweating now. His priceless shirt was gone, and his wife had lost her damn mind. "Sugar. It says Grateful Dad. Not Dead. It's a typo."

You examined it again and shook your head. "No typos," you told him, smiling while he wanted to scream. And then you held it up one more time.

"Wait," he whispered. "Oh."

It couldn't be. Could it? But the two of you hadn't been using protection for quite a few months. The idea of letting it happen naturally, if it happened at all, had appealed to both of you. Bradley's heart was pounding in his ears as your smile grew.

"Sugar?" He pulled the shirt from your hands and tossed it onto the bed, taking both of your cheeks gently in his hands as he gaped at you. "Are you pregnant?" His voice was soft, so scared that he might be wrong about this.

But you nodded and said, "Yes!"

He hauled you up into his arms and shouted, "Hell yeah!"

"You're going to be a dad! To a little Bradshaw Bean!" you told him as he spread you out on the bed and very gently laid on top of you, making sure he didn't put pressure on your belly.

"I'm going to be the Grateful Dad! I'm so happy!" He could feel tears prickling at his eyes as he kissed your face before easing himself down your body and gently pulling up your sweatshirt to kiss your belly. After nuzzling around your belly button, he pushed your shirt up further and paused.

"You are such a brat!" he scolded with a grin when he realized you had been wearing his authentic, vintage Grateful Dead tee under your sweatshirt the entire time. "Just for that, we're naming the baby Jerry Garcia Bradshaw."

Your hysterical laughter as he kissed and tickled you had him smiling for the rest of the night. And when you fell asleep on him, all wrapped up in his shirt after he made love to you, he ordered a newborn sized tie dye onesie.

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

This one goes out to @sometimesanalice for the perfect title, and @je-suis-prest-rachel for the shirt idea! Thanks for loving Beer Boy and Sugar! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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The Grateful Dad Part 2

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sorchathered · 10 months ago

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Heartbreaks & Happy Birthdays

Happy sleepover Saturday y’all, I thought I’d kick it off with a miracle, yes you are seeing this right I wrote a fic for Bradley! @roosterforme I know you are somewhere victory dancing 😂. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Pairing- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader

Warnings- drinking, allusions to smut, language, angst.

Summary- you throw Bradley a birthday party and it ends in disaster, can you move past it or is it time to let him go?

It had started out as such a good weekend, for the life of him he couldn’t figure out when it went wrong.

Bradley had turned 40 on Thursday and you’d agreed to spend the weekend with him, getting off of work early Thursday to cook his favorite dinner (a recipe of Carole’s you’d found in storage) and treating him to a fancy new lingerie set that had been an absolute hit, you even let him take some pictures and videos for his next deployment which he couldn’t wait to watch over and over again on nights when he couldn’t hold you close. You were his sweet quiet girl and although the two of you couldn’t be more different it just made sense when you were together, he brought out a side of you that no one else could, he was a live wire, his bright smile and infectious energy captivated everyone who interacted with him but when he was with you? It was like puzzle pieces snapping in to place, a perfect mix of yin and yang that just fit seamlessly.

You and a few members of his squad had been planning him a surprise party for weeks, you’d mostly let Phoenix handle all the invites and had thrown yourself into decorating and finding a caterer, even Jake had helped by asking one of his buddies to dj for the night, the country club the boys played golf at had graciously let you rent the conference room and it was sure to be an evening to remember.

Friday night came and you had convinced him that he was just going out for dinner at the restaurant in the clubhouse with a few of his friends, dressed in a floral button down with some black slacks he looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine, you were having trouble keeping your thoughts together as he pulled into the lot in his shiny blue bronco, swollen biceps stretching the soft material from all the pushups he’d been doing lately. You hadn’t even realized he’d been talking to you until he stroked your cheek, eyebrow cocked and a knowing smile on his face, of course he could see right through you, he knew you’d been checking him out. “Oh Bradley I’m so sorry, I don’t know where my head was, what did you say?” He chuckled as he unbuckled you and pulled you across the bench seat by your waist, rucking up the sides of your sundress as you went, using his massive left hand to curl around your jaw and the back of your neck as he kissed you breathless, running the other hand up your back and shoulder as he ran his tongue along your lips and you opened for him with a breathy moan, tongues tangled together and reducing you to a puddle. He pulled away much sooner than you would have liked, causing a whine to tear from your throat as you chased his lips. “I know it, I’m gonna take my time with you later sweetness but you did all this planning for dinner so let’s go eat and then I can have my dessert.”

When you made a sharp turn towards the conference room he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, but quickly realized what you were up to as the doors were thrown open to everyone yelling surprise at him. He’d never had a surprise party, hell he hadn’t had a birthday party since he was a kid, he couldn’t believe that everyone had pulled this together under his nose, the boys quickly drug him away for a drink and you and Phoenix just laughed at how excited he looked. It looked like just about everyone Bradley worked with was here, including quite a few people you’d never seen before, but it was expected really; your boyfriend never seemed to meet a stranger and that much was evident by the wall to wall crowd dancing the night away. Somehow he’d pulled you into the middle of the dance floor, twirling you around the floor and kissing you breathless amongst the sweaty bodies and flashing lights, it should have been overwhelming but he always seemed to make you feel comfortable in the most vulnerable situations.

You finally excused yourself and headed for the rest room, you were sure you looked a mess and as you checked yourself over in the mirror you were definitely right. Kiss swollen lips and smudged lipstick, hair all in disarray and you giggled to yourself at the thought of what was to come later that night. As you stepped into the stall you heard a group coming in behind you, no doubt doing the same as you but when you heard them talking you realized they were gossiping about you. “I really don’t get it, she’s a librarian or something right? Could she be any more boring looking?” One said to the other and you could hear her friend agreeing, “I mean at least when you guys were hooking up it made sense, you both have so much in common, I’m sure he’ll get bored eventually Lisa don’t even worry about it, she can’t honestly think they’re going to last.”

You were so humiliated, had you really come off as plain and uninteresting? Was Bradley bored of you? You thought things were going so well and yes you had honestly been thinking about what a future with him might hold, it had only been six months but you’d never felt so loved by anyone. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you waited for them to leave, finally it got quiet and the booming music filtered through the room as someone opened the door, unlocking the stall you made your way out of the door only to realize the girl who had apparently hooked up with your boyfriend was still preening over herself in the mirror. You swiped your eyes with a tissue as you felt your skin flush and prickle, knowing her eyes were on you. She capped her lipstick and fussed with her hair, giving you a once over as she stepped towards the door. “No offense sweet pea, you seem nice but what Bradley needs is someone wild; a big personality to match his and you just aren’t that. You won’t be enough, he needs more than just a quiet wallflower to keep his attention, I’d enjoy it while it lasts if I were you.”

It felt like you’d been slapped, you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond as more tears came, you needed to get out of here; the room was spinning and you couldn’t get a deep breath, you stumbled out into the crowded space only to see that same girl with her hand on Bradley’s arm, you didn’t stick around to see anything else, your heart couldn’t bear it. Opening the ride share app you typed in your address and thanked the stars that there was only a two minute wait, typing out a half ass apology about feeling sick to Bradley and Natasha as you cried all the way home.

By the time Bradley got your message you were long gone, he had been wandering around looking for you but no one seemed to know where you’d been. He stepped outside and called you immediately but it went to voicemail, trying again with the same result. He messaged you ask if you needed him to come to you, but you replied that he should enjoy the party and that you needed to sleep, and as torn as he was he trusted that everything was ok, promising to bring you breakfast in the morning and spend the day with you. You’d cried until you couldn’t anymore and then had the worst sleep you’d had in ages, waking up to a pounding headache and knocking at your door. It was nearly 10 am, you weren’t the sleeping in type and when you checked your phone you had a litany of missed calls and texts. You groaned as you trudged down the hall to your door, not bothering to see who it was before you opened it, only to be met with the honey brown eyes of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend, coffee and a donut from your favorite shop in hand as he looked you over. “Oh baby you look like you feel awful, come on let’s get you back in bed, dr. Bradshaw has exactly what you need.” He’d said with a wink, he was acting as though everything was normal but you couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate, just shrugging lightly and letting him usher you back to bed.

You’d let him in and settled into bed with him as he turned on a movie, but your smile wasn’t meeting your eyes and he could barely get a word out of you. He was really starting to worry that he’d done something wrong, but no matter how he wracked his brain he was coming up with nothing.

He’d told you once that when you smiled at him it was like you held all the answers in the universe in that one look, like you could solve any problem with a kiss and make everything ok. He wanted to be that for you, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. You’d all but turned away from him in bed and fallen asleep halfway through the movie, leaving him even more confused than before, you’d planned him an elaborate party and now you wanted nothing to do with him? What the hell was going on?

When you woke a few hours later you felt more yourself, but turning over in bed to find it empty sent worry through you all over again. “Bradley?” You called as you came down the hall, hearing the drone of the tv you sighed in relief as you found him texting on his phone while some basketball game played in the background. He gave you a small smile and held his arms out for you, but you hesitated; and he noticed. “Ok, you gotta talk to me baby I’m completely lost here, what is going on with you? We were aces yesterday and now you don’t want to touch me, I can’t fix it if I don’t know why it’s broken honey, you gotta give me something.” Your eyes welled up with tears again as you plopped down on the couch, if Bradley had been confused he was even more so now. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I know I probably ruined everything. I know I’m not the prettiest or the most fun to hang out with but I want so badly to be enough for you and I’m worried that you’ll get tired of me.” You couldn’t meet his gaze, and he was looking at you like you’d grown a third eye, his handsome features scrunched up in confusion as he tried to process what you meant. “Baby have I been making you feel like that? Shit if I have I’m so sorry-“

“Wha-no! You haven’t at all, it’s just there was this girl last night at the party, she said you guys had dated and that I wasn’t your type, and then I saw you talking with her at the party and I just- I couldn’t stand it. Thinking that I was holding you back from being who you are, I never want to be that to you.” You were staring very intently at your hands when you saw his come in to view and wrap them around you, pulling you to face him. “That girl that you’re talking about, was it Lisa?” You nodded and he rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw so hard it looked like he might snap it. “Honey I never dated her, we had a drunken hookup one time and I told her she wasn’t my type, I don’t know what the hell she said to you but she’s dead wrong. You’re everything to me, and if you’d waited around long enough last night you would’ve seen the surprise I had planned for you.”

Now it was your turn to look confused, why would he have planned something for you on his birthday? But as you looked up at him he knelt on the floor, producing a small box from his pocket. “I mean it sweet girl, you’re everything I want and I had planned on asking you this last night but you vaporized before I got the chance. I don’t need some wild free spirit, I need someone to keep me on solid ground, someone who loves me for who I really am and not the persona I have to put out to everyone around me. I want quiet nights and dancing in the kitchen and maybe one day a house full of little ones but I want it with you. So if you still want that, will you be my wife?” He was crying now too, this perfect man was everything you’d ever dreamed of and you’d nearly let something so trivial take it from you. You didn’t have to think of an answer, surging forward into his arms as you both toppled to the floor, laughing and kissing as he placed his mother’s engagement ring on your finger. All he needed was right here, warmth and love and happiness, he couldn’t think of a better birthday present than you.

Tagging🏷️- @attapullman @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @bobgasm @bradshawssugarbaby @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @mynameismckenziemae

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw fic #sorchathered’s 300 follower celebration #300 follower sleepover

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mattsunsdollie · 2 months ago

Text

Preferred Ending

Anthony Volpe x Fem!Reader

Description: A night out with your best friend won’t change the directory of your relationship, until it does.

MDNI

SMUT 18+

When you first met Anthony you would’ve never imagined that you two would be best friends. The day you two met, which was through a mutual friend’s birthday dinner, you had spoken a max of three times throughout the night. However, constantly seeing him when hanging out with said mutual friends led to you two being inseparable.

It seemed like over night you two became attached at the hip. If Anthony wanted bagels from this place he saw on Tik Tok, you were always going. Actually, for any errand or outing Anthony wanted to do you were always included. Eventually hanging out four times a week turned into every day.

Your friends asking you if there was anything going on between you two, because why else would you spend that much time with a man you’re not romantically interested in? However you constantly reassured your friends and family you two were not dating.

Yet, it seemed like out of the blue you realized how attractive he was. Sure, when you two had gone out girls would break their necks to look at him, but you never saw him that way. And then you did, and once you did, all hell broke loose.

The veil over your eyes was removed and it seemed like every time you two hung out it felt like more than just friends. Now you understood why everyone questioned you, but, you two were just friends. You couldn’t say he liked you just because he treated you with respect and was a great best friend to you.

But sometimes the lines got blurry, like tonight. He texted you asking if you were doing anything later, and of course you weren’t on a Friday night, planning on studying for an upcoming exam. You replied explaining what you planned on doing, but if he wanted to come over he could.

He quickly explained the team was having a dinner and he could bring a plus one, and wanted you to go. You eagerly said you would go, a plus one is technically like a date right? Laying on your back you feel your phone buzzing, he was calling you. “Why do you do that Ant? You send a message then want to finish the convo over call?”

He chuckles and you’re sure he has that stupidly cute smile plastered on his face. “Oh stop it, you love it. But I was wondering if you wanted to be color coordinated? My tie is going to be a champagne color” and you began to swing your legs, excitement filling your body.

“Yeah I do, I’ll wear that then. One less thing to stress about” biting your lip, you fantasized about how your preferred ending of the night would be. “Stop stressing it’s not good for you. I’ll come around 8 to pick you up, it’s not to far from your place”

You shared your goodbyes and you quickly got up to began prepping for the event. You felt like a teenage girl, all giddy over a silly one sided crush.

Before you knew it, it was 7:56 and you hear Anthony’s car revving outside. You take a look in the mirror one last time and admire yourself. The long champagne dress accentuated your curves, and the open back made your back look delicious.

Spraying yourself with your perfume for one last time, for safety measures, you turned off all the lights. Opening the front door, you take the elevator down to the lobby of your apartment. You see Anthony at the desk, suit hugging him in all the right places.

“You ready” you say wrapping your arm around his mid-section. His hand lays on-top of yours as he quickly finishes the conversation he was having with the security guard. Turning around after wishing the man a goodnight he hugs you, “You look great” hands lingering on your hips.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” you tease as you play with the tie. “Let’s go before we’re late and don’t get let in” he says, and he places your hand on his bicep. “Those heels might look good, but I know they can’t be comfortable. Hold me when you walk” and you can’t help realize how much of a couple you two look like.

The car ride is filled with laughter and jokes about what you expect to happen tonight. Before you know it you arrive to a fancy steak house, and Anthony pulls up in front of the vallet stand. He makes his way to your door, opening it and offering you a hand.

You gladly grab it and adjust your dress once fully standing. Sneaking your hand around his bicep again you two begin walking in the restaurant. It’s filled with dim lights and chatter. The hostess quickly leads you both to the room rented out, and it’s filled with the players and their plus one, if they brought one.

He introduces you to the members one by one, and when you get to Giancarlo’s he says “Anthony you didn’t say you had a girlfriend, let alone a very pretty one” and you cant help but blush. “We’re uh not dating” you say and you feel Anthony’s arm twitch under your hand.

Did he not want you to correct his teammate? Giancarlo’s looks at Anthony,” A shame, I never thought a woman like you would be single” and then he goes to his designated seat. There is a shift in the atmosphere but it’s not an awkward one, just yet.

Anthony finds the assigned seat for you both, and you’re in between Giancarlo and Anthony. Crossing your legs after you take a seat you wait for Aaron to make a speech toast reflecting on the season.

However, once he does start the speech you’re too distracted trying to read Anthony’s mood. He seemed upset, but there was nothing to be angry over. You placed your hand on his back, and he looked at you and gave you a warm smile.

Once the toast was finished conversation bloomed throughout the room. Anthony constantly keeping you occupied in hopes Giancarlo’s wouldn’t try to start a conversation with you, but eventually he would.

“Ant let the girl breathe, you probably see her multiple times a week” Giancarlo’s said, you could only awkwardly laugh. Anthony kept quiet, realizing he did seem like he was hogging you and not allowing others to talk to you.

Feeling the tension you dismissed yourself to the bathroom, trying to give them alone time to talk about whatever led to this. Clearly it worked because when you came back it seemed like everything was back to normal.

The drinks flowing you could tell Anthony was enjoying himself, not having a lot of chances to let loose. “How many is that Ant?” you asked sweetly, touching his hand that was around the beer bottle.

“3rd one, last one too don’t worry. I know I need to drive” he said. “If you want I’ll drive it’s okay” and with that you became the designated driver. It seemed like a light switched off inside Anthony’s head, he realized he could actually relax and let loose, and he definitely did.

Many drinks later you were practically dragging him back to his car. Arm around your waist he was blabbering about how much he liked the song that was playing. The vallet employee brought out Anthony’s car and you carefully sat him down in the passenger side. Leaning inside the car you buckled him in, and then he leaned in. Kissing your cheek, mumbling something about your perfume and how perfect you looked.

Reminding yourself he was drunk and didn’t understand what he was doing you shut the door and got into the drivers seat. Unbuckling your heels you placed them gently on the back seat, and began to drive to your apartment.

The car ride was anything but silent, in fact Anthony touched on about 15 topics in the span of 20 minutes. When you finally got to your building you parked his car and looked inside the trunk to see if there were any other shoes you could use so you wouldn’t have to walk barefoot.

Anthony of course noticing stepped out the car, stumbling asking if you were okay, and you explained. He took off his shoes right there and made you wear them. “Lean on me okay, you’re gonna be in bed in under 5 minutes” you say leading him inside the building.

The same security guard Anthony spoke to earlier was laughing at the state he was in. Once you finally made it into your apartment you sat him on your couch, “Stay right there I’m going to get you water and pills” and he listened.

You handed him a water bottle and two advils which he gladly took. You made your way to your bedroom and prepared your bed for him to sleep in, you would sleep in the couch. Changing into pijamas you went back to the living room.

“Anthony come on let’s get you to bed” holding your hands out and he walks letting you lead. He sits on your bed, and stays still for a moment. “I’m going to sleep in the living room, if you need anything come get me” you say as you grab your pillow.

“Not fair to you, sleep here. I promise I’ll go right to sleep” he begged. It seemed tempting but you knew better, it would be awkward tomorrow morning. Except he was persistent, continuing to ask and ask.

“Fine, but hurry up and put the shirt and pants I left out for you so we can sleep” you say pointing to the clothes he had once left behind. Taking off his suit jacket he hiccuped, “Don’t sleep with a shirt. And help with the tie please” he asked seemingly annoyed he couldn’t rip it off.

Sitting on the bed you loosen the tie and slip it over his head and he just stares at you. He gestures with his head to his button down, shaky hands reach his chest and you unbutton the shirt. It’s innocent, you think, he’s too drunk to do it himself.

He throws his shirt to some corner of your room, along with his pants and he finally slips on the sweatpants you laid out. You try not to stare but the scene just looks, domestic, like you’re playing house with him.

By the time you’re back in your room from brushing your teeth and face he’s knocked out under the covers. You quietly slip under the covers and turn to your side, face away from him.

What you didn’t expect was to wake up on his chest, legs tangled and his hand on your lower back. The sun beaming through the curtains is what originally woke you up. However once you started stretching and feeling another body next to you is what really woke you up.

Your eyes widen, you slowly move from under his touch. He was slightly snoring above you which meant you didn’t wake him. You shut the bedroom door and started your morning, he would wake up eventually and would want food.

After freshening up you started brewing coffee, and you heard the bathroom door shut signaling he was up. He walked out of your bedroom, sweats hanging dangerously low on him, no shirt and his messy short hair.

“Don’t ever let me drink again” he said, voice sounding deeper than ever. “I thought I took care of you pretty good” you reply pouring coffee. He stands behind you, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

Deciding to see if you can get a glimpse of his true feelings you turn around, “You’re a clingy drunk you know? Didn’t even let me sleep on the couch” Now he’s looking worried “You slept with me?” He questions

“Well, you wouldn’t take no for an answer.” crossing your arms trying to read his expression. “Did I say anything crazy last night?” he’s looking everywhere but your eyes. “Depends on what you define crazy as” and you look at his lips then his eyes and back to his lips.

He starts rambling about how he’s sorry and he hopes whatever he said doesn’t ruin your friendship, and even though it’s close to noon it’s too early to be hearing his nervous rambling. So you grab his chain and pull him in, shutting him up finally.

It takes him a second to get out of shock, but once he’s grounded his hands are on your hips. The kiss starts off slow and sweet, but as his hands explore your body it turns heated very quickly. Pulling you close to him, you can feel his chest and stomach through your thin cotton pijamas.

Pulling back to catch your breath you see the tent in his sweatpants. You grab the strings of his joggers and pull him back into the bedroom. Laying him down, you get on top of him. Kissing his cheek, corner of his mouth before beginning to go down. You don’t miss the way he tries to catch your lips and give you a real kiss, and all you can do is giggle.

Your soft hands lightly push his head to lay flat on the pillow. Kissing down his neck, lightly nipping just enough to give the sensation of a hickey without the mark. His adam’s apple bobs as he try’s to contain himself and not buck up onto your ass that’s sitting directly on his erection. Leaving a trail of wet kisses from his collarbone down to his v-line, you situate your self between his legs.

You look up at him and kiss his erection, that is still being hidden by the sweats and boxers. Your hands grab the waist band of the sweats and begin to pull it down and off of him. And if you thought the tent looked big you weren’t prepared to see it in the boxers.

“Can I take it off?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes. “Fuck, yeah. Yes, please” he stammers out, and you comply. Pulling back the plaid boxers, and the erection slightly hits his stomach. Your soft hands grab it and you can see his stomach muscles tense up. Your thumb traces the veins, then rub the slit back and forth, seeing all of the precum that leaked out.

You spit on the tip, watching as it slowly travels to to base. Kissing the tip you finally wrap your lips around it and you could see Anthony’s fist tighten around the sheets. Sticking your tongue under his base while more of his length enters your mouth. Looking up at him you cup the balls, moving them around in your soft palm. And that’s what sets him off, bucking into your mouth.

You gag and pull up, a string of saliva attaching you to the tip. Stroking it, but mainly focusing on the tip you kiss the base. “Look so pretty like this” his hand reaching your hair, grabbing it lightly and pushing your head back to his shaft.

Laughing before you take it in your mouth once more, bobbing your head up and down. Moans escaping his mouth as the tip reaches the back of your throat. Releasing him with a popping sound you rest the side of your face on his thigh.

Still stroking him you just stare at him, “Bigger than what I imagined” you say as you tighten your hand around him. “Y-yeah? Thought I had a shrimp dick?” he pokes fun. You can’t help but laugh, he was still his goofy self.

“Mm no, just didn’t think you’d be this thick” as wrap both hands around and put the tip back in your mouth. Hands rotating and moving up and down while your lips suck on the tip. “Oh fuck, don’t stop baby” he says holding your head in place.

“W-wait shit. Fuck get up, gonna come” and he pulls your hands off just in time. He’s panting and you can’t help but bite your lip at how sexy he looks. The tip is angrily red, slightly twitching from denying an orgasm.

He sits up, hands grabbing your pajamas. His tongue immediately finds yours, exploring and fighting with your own. His hands unbutton the pajama top and eventually push it down, leaving you completely exposed. Perked nipples greet him, and he breaks the kiss to suck and play with them.

“Don’t want to wait anymore, please Ant” you moan back arching as he toys with you. You remove your pajama pants and lay flat on your back. “Do you have condoms?” he asks stroking himself as he completely removes your panties.

“Uh I think there’s one in the left night stand” you say. He rips the rubber like a pro and slides the condom on. He taps your entrance and the slick sounds should make you embarrassed, you were completely soaked from sucking him off.

“Who’s got you this wet baby?” he asks, pushing up and down your folds. Bucking trying to get more you moan out “O-only you”

And it feels like heaven when he first pushes the head in, the tightness from no prep was evident- but the wetness allowed him to sink in. Gripping the back of your thighs you raise your neck to look at where you both connect. And it looked just as good as it felt.

From the stretch alone you feel like you could cum. “Fu-I’m sorry I’m not gonna last long. Shit, feels so good” he says letting his head fall back as he’s fully in. “I- fuck, I’m not either”

He slowly pulls and then pushes back in. The tip hitting your spongy g-spot, causing moans to fly out of your mouth. “Please baby, go f-faster, need it” and his eyes are on yours.

Your brows furrowed as you try to hold out, sensitive from not being touched in a while. He’s thrusting harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. “Look at me baby, c’mon.” he says but the pleasure is so overwhelming.

Pushing himself all the way in he pauses and you cry out, “Hey, look at me. I need to see those pretty eyes” he groans when he feels you tighten around him.

Opening your eyes you see him, a light layer of sweat on his body. And he starts thrusting, picking up the pace where he left off. “T-tell me you -fuck. Tell me you love me” he groans out, head slightly falling back.

The coil snapping as he toys with your clit, “I love you so much, please. Oh my god” you cry out as you come all over him. The tightness of your walls pushes him over the edge, spilling into the condom.

“Love you so- so fucking much” he moans, fucking out his orgasm. You’re both panting, but other than that there is a comfortable silence.

He pulls out and you slightly wince. He lays next to you, turning his head to look at you. “I meant it, I love you, a lot” he confesses.

Supporting yourself on your elbow, you kiss his chest. “I was hoping you’d say that” and he can’t hide the smile on his face. Months of hoping you’d end up together was worth it.

aaron smut should be posted some time this week. i loved the friends to lover theme w anthony i think it’s really fitting 🤭

#mattsunsdollie #fanfic #shitpost #smut #new york yankees #yankee anthony #anthony volpe imagine #anthony volpe #anthony volpe smut #volpe yankee #nyc yankees smut #yankees smut #ny yankees #volpe smut #volpe imagine #volpe #mlb imagines #mlb smut #mlb fanfic

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swissboyhisch · 8 months ago

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You Can't Be Serious

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x OC

Summary: A night out celebrating brings co-workers closer than what they thought possible. With the help of a little alcohol.

Word Count: 1346

Warnings: Probably crossing work boundaries. Alcohol. Kissing. Blurry consent.

A/N: This is for @offside-the-lines Birthday Bingo!! Happy birthday to one of my favourite Aussie girlies. I know it was a couple weeks ago but Birthday month is the best thing to celebrate!

My choice of four bingo boxes were:

Drunken Confessions

Dancing

Rivals (enemies) to Lovers

Mistaken Identity

Sorry it's so late but work became a little stressful and unpredictable. But I got it in just in time! I really hope you enjoy this as it definitely had me writing tropes I haven't before. Happy birthday Rox <3

Also shoutout to @mp0625 for being my beta. Always can count on you!

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Cora sighed happily as she finally stepped foot into her apartment, taking off her shoes and collapsing onto the couch. Even though it was a lost cause as she’d be leaving again to meet the boys at the bar, they had organized to celebrate the team clinching a playoff spot. Some country bar that the boys liked to go have a good time at when celebrating a win.

As one of the off-ice fitness trainers, she spent a lot of time with the players, creating great friendships. Cora was the only woman in the facility's fitness physio and trainers team and the youngest by far. She had done a traineeship last season, and when the head physio left, he suggested that she come onto the team as one of the other men would be taking his position. As the only woman, the boys had taken to her like family, and suddenly, she had 22 brothers.

Notice the 22 and not 23? Well one of the team decided she was annoying and just looking for attention. Even when she was just doing her job. Matthew Tkachuk, ever since she started her traineeship, had taken a liking to pissing Cora off whenever he could. If she had to spot him while he did weights, he would do the opposite. She was younger than him and telling him what to do? Yeah right.

But he had been injured for the last 4 weeks so the two had been spending more time than usual working together making the tension peak. Hopefully, with Matthew being back on the ice tonight, he will have simmered back down before he said something to make Cora strangle him. He was holding it against her that he wasn’t allowed to play yet. Like it was solely her fault for not clearing him to play.

Instead of wallowing and thinking about the dumbass that was Ratthew, Cora pulled herself off the couch and into her bathroom where she could shower and get ready. She was thankful that quite a few of the girlfriends, wives and family members were also coming so she wouldn’t be the only woman within the group.

Cora chose to wear a red lacy bodysuit and a black denim skirt with a leather jacket to finish off the look. A bold red lip and simple smokey look with curled hair made her look out of this world. Something the boys weren’t used to as they only ever saw the woman in athletic clothes and team gear. She traded in her worn pair of Nikes for a pair of trusty black heeled boots. She knew by the time she ordered her uber and got to the bar, some of the players and family would already be there so she grabbed her clutch that had her phone, portable charger and ID in it. The uber luckily wasn’t that long for a Friday night.

“Cora!” Yana Tarasenko yelled as the young woman climbed out of the SUV.

“Yana,” She laughs, being brought into a hug.

The pair intertwined their arms and made their way through the security with Vlad to where there was already a group gathering in the back corner around multiple booths and tables. Players, partners and family alike were all chatting away happily, nearly all with some kind of drink in their hand. Whether it be alcoholic or not.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Cora yells over the music to Yana who nodded and waved her off.

Yana found a seat with some of the other girls in a corner booth tucked behind the boys. Cora found herself at the bar, ordering her usual vodka cranberry along with two tequila shots. If she was to get through this social gathering, to be what she deemed as a normal, she needed a few drinks. Hence the shots. When she wasn’t paying attention, a body slid into the bar right beside her.

“Your lips look lonely. Would they like to meet mine?” A familiar voice spoke up over the Carrie Underwood song that was blaring.

Cora turned slowly, not wanting to believe what she had heard. There beside her, and apparently hitting on her, was an already tipsy Matthew Tkachuk. What the actual fuck? Those words did not just come out of his mouth.

“Tkachuk,” Cora muttered uninterested.

“So you’re a fan?”

Cora laughed, “You can’t be serious…” The curly-haired boy looked confused for a moment. Which to Cora was comical. “Matthew, we literally–”

“Cora!” Barkov shouted when he saw her at the bar. He brought her into a hug, but she didn’t miss the shocked look that crossed Matthew’s face.

“Cora?” He gasped.

Instead of wasting time, she disappeared onto the dance floor with some of her friends dancing and sipping her cocktail. A few of the girls were cheering her on when she shook out her hair that she had put into a clip for the trip to the bar. They were all having fun, enjoying themselves. When the first few notes of Kesha’s song Take It Off played, Cora let out an excited squeal. She had practiced the line dance a heap after seeing it on TikTok.

“Go Cora!” The girls yell as she races to the middle of the circle with quite a few other bar patrons.

As the chorus came up, Cora stripped off the jacket she was wearing and waved it around in the air above her head. She thrived on the attention of all the girls and their partners cheering her on. Matthew had stepped up beside them and watched the girl he had come to be so frustrated with. After the song came to an end the group pulled her into the circle, showering her with compliments on the side of her she’s never shown to the team.

“You make not liking you hard when you move your hips like that,” Matthew whispers, coming up behind the dancing girl as the attention turns elsewhere.

She could faintly smell the beer on his breath but she was probably just as drunk. “Matt…”

Cora leant back against Matthew’s body as his arms came to wrap around her waist. His fingers tickled her skin through the lace bodysuit. Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy started to play as the two swayed together in time with the beat.

“Wanna get out of here?” Matthew yelled over the music after another hour of drinking and dancing.

Cora giggled, “Let’s go.”

Without saying goodbye to any of the team or partners, the two slipped out of the bar and into the back of an Uber that Matthew had ordered. The two laughed and whispered on the journey back to his apartment. Cora was helped out of the car by Matthew and led up to the 11th floor of the apartment complex.

“You frustrate me to no end,” Matthew mumbles against Cora’s lips as he pushes her to the now-closed door.

Cora frowns at the words, “What? Why?”

“You held me off the ice even when I was all good to play.”

That made Cora step away. Even though the two were definitely tipsy, probably drunk if you look at the true definition, it hurt to hear that. “I can promise you it was for the best.”

“But I was good to play…”

“We knew we’d make the playoffs, why risk you getting injured and missing the playoffs? Why risk our best player?”

Those words coming out of Cora’s mouth made Matthew’s thoughts flip. He had only thought of himself that Matthew hadn’t considered the team and the future of the season of he had made his injury worse.

The silence was worrying to Cora. What was running through his head? “Matthew?”

The curly-haired boy pulled her close again and pressed his lips to hers. It was addicting… For both parties. The two stripped off clothes, leaving a trail to his bedroom.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you,” Cora slurs as they fall onto the bed together.

Matt grins, “I know I’m in love with you.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens

@cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @rleigh-47 @devilsandpensfan @luca-fantilli

@books-hlmc @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 @there-goes-thefighter @totallynotrobotic

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schrijverr · 4 months ago

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Worse, My In-Laws Are in Town

Divergence from chapter 11, where Buck comes back into work looking down after Chris’s birthday and just honestly tells everyone that his in-laws are in town when they ask what got him in a bad mood.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (pre-slash)

Warnings: referenced ableism, referenced homophobia, referenced emotionally abusive parents

~~~

Buck drags himself into work after the weekend with Helena and Ramon. The prospect of having to do that for an entire week is daunting and draining, and he doesn’t have the energy in him to pretend he’s looking forward to the week.

The reprieve work will give him is nice, but he has to be at work with the knowledge they’re in his home at this very moment, probably ruining Eddie’s day more and poisoning the whole house. It feels a little bit dramatic, but they just make him so angry, so frustrated.

He hopes that his shift with the 118 will help. They’re his family too, a family he can run to when it gets rough at home. And it sure is rough at home right now.

Indeed, they pick up on his mood in seconds. Chimney takes one look at him and whistles: “Oef, bad date?”

Buck remembers the fib he told when he ran out of work on Friday and he knows he can play it off now, should he want to. It still doesn’t feel like Eddie is his to keep and he knows he will lose Chris alongside Eddie. But it is his family at this point in time and he is dragging it into work. He can’t lie to everyone about why he’s in a mood, he doesn’t have the energy.

And on top of that, if he’s honest with himself, he needs to vent to someone. Someone, who isn’t Eddie, someone who won’t get defensive or try to see their side. Someone who will just let him bitch for a moment.

So, he doesn’t play it off, instead taking the mug of coffee Bobby offers him as he slumps down over the breakfast bar and groans: “Worse, my in-laws are in town.”

It’s deadly quiet.

Buck now realizes it was probably quite the thing to drop on everyone, but it’s too late to take it back and undo it. He is proven correct in that notion when all of them start yelling at the same time, with all of them yelling some variation of: “You’re married?!”

“Uh, yeah, I am,” Buck says sheepishly. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“No, you did not mention that,” Hen humpfs, crossing her arms.

“Oh, my bad,” Buck tries his best innocent look, as he says that, hoping it will read as honest, because he does feel bad for never sharing, even if he had his reasons.

He hopes that will be the end of the freak out, so he can complain about Helena and Ramon now – maybe even get some advice – but that doesn’t happen. Instead, Bobby frowns: “You got married and didn’t invite us?”

“Yeah, what the hell. You didn’t invite us to your wedding?” Chimney demands indignantly, backing Bobby up, before Buck can even begin to figure out why Bobby asked that.

“I’m so confused,” Buck says.

“So are we,” Hen snorts.

Buck ignores her as he says: “How could I have invited any of you? I didn’t even know you yet. Plus, it was a shotgun courthouse wedding. We invited one person.”

Again there is a silence, this one less shocked confusion and more of a tentative, ‘what are we going to say, that’s a little jikes’-silence, which he doesn’t understand. He just wanted some support on how to deal with his in-laws, maybe blow off some steam. Fuck, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut.

Chimney is the one that answers, though he keeps sending glances over to Hen as he does. “Uhm, if they know you… uh, cheated on their kid on the job, then, uh- then it might make sense why them being in town is not good for you.”

For a moment, Buck stares at him without comprehending, then he suddenly remembers that he got nearly fired for sleeping with multiple women on the job and everyone was there for that. It’s just so normal for him that he didn’t even think of that. “Oh, no, we- we have an open marriage, I didn’t cheat on Eddie,” he trips over himself to assure them.

“Oh, that’s good,” Chimney says high pitched with the relief, while Hen mouths “Eddie,” to herself, as Bobby repeats: “Open marriage?” with a confused voice.

Unsure where to start, Buck decides to respond to Bobby to fully clear the air. “Yeah, an open marriage, it’s when you open your relationship up to other people. Me and Eddie have always agreed dating and sleeping with others is totally fine.”

“Ah,” Bobby nods after a second. “I, uh- I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Most people don’t,” Buck smiles in what he hopes is an assuring manner. He didn’t really plan on explaining that to Bobby today.

“So, if it’s not the cheating, then why are you upset they’re in town?” Chimney asks conversationally, getting them back on the intended track.

“Because they hate my guts,” Buck pouts miserably. “And I just hate how they make Eddie act. I know it’s not my place, because they’re not my parents and I don’t want to fall into the trope of hating your in-laws, but ugh- It’s just so frustrating. Eddie actually slept on the couch the whole weekend, all because his dad made a comment about him becoming a kept man. It makes me want to punch him, but I’m also not just going to punch him.”

Hen has snapped out of her revelry and is now making a sympathetic face as she asks: “Eddie’s parents are homophobic?”

“Very,” Buck replies empathetically. “And it’s not just shitty of them to be, it’s totally unfounded too. I mean, they don’t even know I’m bi and Eddie is straight! Not to mention that he’s not a-”

“Wait,” Hen cuts him off and he looks at her with a confused noise. She says: “Eddie’s straight?”

“Oh yeah, he is,” Buck says, realizing he probably should have clarified that. Probably would have made the whole assurance he wasn’t cheating more smooth too. “It’s a marriage of convenience thing, we’ve never been together, we just got married for Chris. We’re friends.”

“Chris?” Chimney repeats in confusion. “Who the fuck is Chris?”

“It might be best if you started from the beginning here, Buck,” Bobby tells him. “This is a lot all of a sudden.”

Buck blushes. It is a lot. He’s a lot. He’s truly just embarrassing himself left and right, it would have been better for him to keep his mouth shut. However, that’s too late now, so he shortly recaps. “I met Eddie over two years ago now. I knew his ex-wife first, Shannon. She came by the farm I worked on and we chatted, became friendly, I met their kid, Chris-”

“Wait, Chris is a kid?” Chimney interrupts.

“Yeah, he turned seven this weekend, I took time off for his birthday. It’s why Helena and Ramon – my in-laws – are in town, to celebrate,” Buck explains.

“And you’re still involved in his life, I take it?” Hen asks.

Buck nods: “I adopted him. Stepparent adoption. It’s why I married Eddie. Shannon signed over custody and left without saying to take care of her sick mom. So, I kind of offered my help and then we became co-parents, but then Chris’s hospital bills came in. So, Eddie re-enlisted in the army – he’s an army medic – and we got married so I could adopt Chris so I’d have the legal backing to keep him while Eddie was away. That was about a year and a half ago.”

“Did Chris have an accident?” Hen asks, ever the paramedic.

“No, CP,” Buck says. “He has crutches and he is following along normally in school, just trouble when it comes to writing and the finer motor skills and such. We try to let him be as independent as possible where we can, but Eddie’s mom insist he’s ‘fragile’ and ‘special’ and we’re being too rough, as if we’re not doing exactly as the doctors prescribed.”

“Oh, one of those people,” Chimney nods understandingly, a mild disgust in his voice as he says it.

“Yeah.” Buck rubs his face. “This whole weekend has been a fight about how to wrap gifts, what proper gifts are for his age, how Chris should eat, what Chris should eat, how he should move, how we handle him. Eddie had to physically restrain her at some point to get her to stop. And now it turns out, they’re not just here for the weekend, they’re here for the whole week. Fucking lovely.”

“That explains the whole sour mood when you came in,” Chimney says, before nudging Buck and trying to joke: “But at least you’re working today.”

“Small mercies,” Buck snort. Then he sobers up a little: “But I feel bad for leaving Eddie with them, who knows what sort of things they’re filling his mind with while I’m here.”

“What sort of stuff are you afraid they’ll say?” Hen asks curiously but compassionately too. “You said Eddie slept on the couch, was he supposed to sleep in your bed? Are you scared they’ll turn him against you with their homophobia?”

“No, no, Eddie’s not homophobic, just very much toxic masculinity poured in from birth,” Buck assures her. “Like, we shared a bed when we lived in Texas, just because we didn’t have any space and I couldn’t sleep on the couch forever. It’s nothing new, he’s just getting in his head about it, because now his dad is there to make comments about it.”

“And that doesn’t bother you at all,” Hen says pointedly, not believing him for a second.

“I mean, it’s hurting my feelings a little bit, but I know it’s not about me,” Buck shrugs. “It’s just that it’s an affront to Ramon’s masculinity that Eddie is married to me, even if he knows it’s not like that. Eddie doesn’t think like his dad, but he does care what his dad thinks. And what his mom thinks. I’m mostly worried about what she says.”

“What kind of things does she say then?” Hen asks, wondering what could be worse than the homophobia and misogyny Ramon is paddling onto his son. Though she can probably take a pretty educated guess with the earlier comments about her.

“She goes in on his parenting- Well, technically both our parenting, but she’s never acknowledged my contributions a day in her life, so it’s mostly harking on about Eddie’s parenting,” Buck says. “She’s been trying to take Chris from Eddie from the moment he came back from his second tour. There’s a reason I needed the legal backing to take care of Chris before he went on his third and that reason is named Helena. He quite literally married me, because he didn’t trust his own mom to give his son back to him.”

“Pfew, that’s a lot,” Chimney comments. “I’m still a little reeling right now.”

“Welcome to my world,” Buck snorts humorlessly.

“Seriously, Buck, that is a lot. Custody can be rough,” Hen says, placing a hand on his arm. There is something thick in her voice and Buck wants to ask, but with the way Chimney is delicately dancing around her, he doesn’t know if it will be welcome.

“Thanks,” he finally settles on saying. “So far it hasn’t actually come to that and I’m probably just being dramatic.”

“We’re here for you anyway,” Bobby says. He’s been a little quiet ever since Chris was first mentioned, however, now he makes himself known again. “You can always talk to us about this sort of stuff and you are more than welcome to hang around here if you don’t want to go home yet. As is Eddie.”

“Though he’s probably planning on making some overtime himself this week,” Chimney jokes.

“No, Eddie doesn’t work, so he’ll appreciate the offer. We both do,” Buck says. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Bobby smiles paternally.

“Can I ask why he doesn’t work?” Hen asks.

“His squadron got shot down with the helicopter they were in. He earned a Silver Star, along three bullets in his body,” Buck answers. “He’s still recovering, which is why we’re still married. We’re gonna see where we stand when he’s okay again, until then Chris is on my insurance and I kind of pay the bills.”

Hen gasps: “That’s why you asked so much about the insurance when Bobby nearly fired you. That’s what you wanted to tell me.”

“Ah, yeah, well…” Buck awkwardly rubs the back of his head. “I did, yeah.”

“And on the roof, you wanted to tell me you had a family,” Bobby realizes. “You were trying to convince me, but I didn’t let you finish. Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Buck shrugs and looks away as he mumbles: “It didn’t end up being necessary.”

Bobby squints at him suspiciously, not buying what he’s selling and Buck holds his breath, anxiously awaiting what he’ll do. If he’ll push why Buck never said, he might have to confess all his stupid insecurities about being abandoned, not to mention his huge crush on Eddie. He’d prefer it if they didn’t force that out of him, especially in front of Chimney, who’d probably spill the second he met Eddie.

Fortunately, Bobby doesn’t push, though maybe that’s because the alarm rings and they have to run to answer.

During the call, his head still isn’t all there. He keeps being worried for Eddie and trying to come up with a way to pull him out of his parents’ shit, but not finding anything. The others don’t seem to mind that much, letting him stay off to the side on the call and leaving him alone on the drive back.

When they’re at the station again, Bobby wordlessly offers him to help chop up breakfast to give his hands something to do. An offer that he takes gratefully.

They cut in silence for a few moments, before Bobby, ever so perceptive, catches on that Buck needs to let this out more, because he opens with: “Mind still elsewhere?”

“Yeah,” Buck chuckles sheepishly, before gesturing vaguely to his head with the hand that is not holding a knife. “Sorry, not all here today.”

“It’s alright, happens to all of us,” Bobby says.

The two of them are quiet for another second, then Buck takes the silent invitation and starts talking. “It’s just- I feel so helpless, you know? I want to say something, help, but unless it’s about Chris, it really isn’t any of my business. But I see it hurts Eddie. I hate watching that.”

Bobby hums thoughtfully as he mulls the words over for a moment. Then he says: “Eddie probably appreciates you just being there.”

“Is that enough?” Buck asks rhetorically. “I mean, it’s never been the best relationship and there is so much history between them, even before I came in the picture, and I probably only made it worse. It feels like I should be doing more than just sitting there, watching it happen, while my only contribution is not getting mad at Eddie too. For shutting me out. For listening to them.”

“That is enough,” Bobby answers anyway.

Buck scoffs.

“No, Buck, look at me,” Bobby says gently. “Come on, kid.”

His mind tries to tell him he’s making the tone up, that Bobby is disappointed in him that he’s not doing more, that he thinks Buck is an immature kid, who doesn’t know what he’s doing. However, he looks anyway, a little reluctantly.

He doesn’t find any disappointment or judgment like he was expecting, instead Bobby looks sympathetic and understanding. Buck swallows heavily, suddenly feeling very small in a good way under Bobby’s gaze.

“You’re not the punk I thought you were when you walked in here. Not only have you grown in this job, but outside of it too, you’re being a parent and a partner,” Bobby says. Buck is about to correct the partner part, but Bobby is quicker. “I know you’re friends not lovers, but you still have his back. The two of you are in this together, I can hear it in the way you talk about him. Or am I wrong?”

“No. No, you’re not,” Buck says quietly, blushing despite himself.

Bobby nods, more to himself, then goes on: “It’s clear Eddie has some baggage with his parents, but you have a trust with him, a closeness, those things don’t come for free. You’ve shown you’re ready to be in his corner, but it sounds like you’re hoping to pull him out of this trap he’s in with his family. That’s not going to happen. What Eddie needs, is for you to step inside with him, keep him company there. I know you can do that.”

Buck thinks it over for a moment. Having Bobby say he knows Buck can do it, that he can be what Eddie needs, is soothing. But is it really enough to silently stand by his side? To stand inside the trap that is his parents? Maybe, it is.

This whole time he’s been frustrated with Eddie wanting him to snap out of the practically conditioned reaction he’s had to his parents. However, maybe that isn’t what Eddie needs him to do.

Eddie has always needed him to be there next to him, to be a rock when the tide that is his parents washes over him. He doesn’t need someone to point out he’s being a stupid asshole, Eddie is aware of that, he needs someone to be in his corner when he can snap out of it. That’s all Buck has to do. That’s all Buck can do.

Yeah, Bobby is right. Eddie needs him to have his back, like he always has and Buck can totally do that.

His heart feels lighter and he can feel a weight shift from his shoulders. He sends Bobby a bright grin and hopes it conveys how much he means it when he says: “Thank you, Cap.”

“Of course,” Bobby smiles back. “Hand me the bell peppers?”

“Oh yeah, here.”

Bobby continues working on breakfast, but as he works, he asks: “So, tell me more about Chris. What’s your son like?” content to listen to Buck babble about how great his Superman is.

It’s nice. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to brag about Chris, until he can. He knows that one day soon, he’s going to have to tell them that Eddie is leaving him, go through the hardships of a divorce with all the uncertainty that comes with that, but he at least has people in his corner when it happens.

Afterwards, his head is on right and he’s a lot more useful on calls.

In the downtime the others ask him questions, clearly still adjusting to the mental image of Buck as a father. He tries not to take it to heart too much, he is the one that leaned into the frat boy stereotype they put on him after all.

Around lunch time he texts Eddie to check up on how it’s going with his parents, telling him about the offer of hiding out at the firehouse.

Eddie responds: At this point, I might take you up on that.

It’s a nightmare.

Taking them out to lunch, so fingers crossed.

iew, good luck, Buck texts back.

Thanks lol., he gets back

Then Eddie goes radio silent, so Buck assumes he’s out at lunch. He gets not wanting to be on his phone during that. Not that it stops Buck from checking his own every other second, just to make sure he doesn’t miss Eddie texting him.

It might be for the best – for his sanity that is – that they get called away before he can drive himself and the others up the wall with his worrying. This is further aided by him stupidly dropping his phone in a fumble to get into his turnouts and not having the time to pick it up again. So, he can’t check on the call or during the drive.

By the time they get back, Buck is itching to get to his phone. However, he doesn’t spot it lying anywhere on the floor after he shrugged off the coat and put it away so he can maneuver better.

Before, he can properly start searching, he’s distracted by Chimney saying: “Anyone know that guy?”

Buck looks over to where Chimney is indicating to see Eddie sitting on the bottom steps to the loft. He is holding Buck’s phone and staring emptily at it.

“Eddie?” Buck calls out confused. “What are you doing here?”

Eddie looks up with a start as if snapped out of his thoughts. He spots Buck, still only halfway out of his turnouts, and blinks for a few seconds. Then he shakes his head and kind dumbly says: “You dropped your phone.”

The others are watching curiously, but Buck ignores them, jogging over and taking the phone from Eddie with a “Thanks,” then quietly he asks: “Seriously, are you okay? I thought you were doing lunch with Helena and Ramon?”

“Uh, didn’t go well,” Eddie mumbles, looking away with flushed cheeks. “They pushed my buttons, as always. I snapped at them. Gave them the keys to my truck and told them to go home by themselves, then Ubered here.” He finally meets Buck’s eyes. It’s clear he’s embarrassed about it as he says: “Hope that offer to hide out here was genuine.”

“Yeah, course it is,” Buck assures him immediately with a soft grin. He’s not going to push on the whole parent thing with everyone hovering and trying to eavesdrop. So he raises his voice so that everyone can hear as he adds: “I’m sure everyone is dying to meet you.”

When he looks back at the others, they don’t even try to look ashamed as they drop what they were pretending to be doing so they can come over to meet Eddie. They receive him with the same warmth that Buck had been met with on his first day, none of them mentioning Buck’s bitch fest about his parents, nor the fact that before this morning, none of them knew Eddie existed.

Chimney gets there first, holding out his hand as he grins: “Ah, the non-husband-husband.”

“That is one way to describe it,” Eddie laughs, though there is an undertone Buck can’t place. “I’m Eddie, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Chimney.”

“Ah, yes, a familiar name. Buck still hasn’t told me why they call you that.”

“A gentleman doesn’t reveal his secrets.”

“Pff, you’re as far from a gentleman as it gets,” Hen snorts, ignoring Chimney’s offended guffaw as she moves in to shake Eddie’s hand as well. “I’m Hen.”

“Eddie.”

Then it’s Bobby’s turn to introduce himself and Buck can’t help but be a little anxious. After Chris, Eddie and Bobby are the two most important people in his life and he wants them to like each other.

Bobby gives Eddie a firm handshake as he nods: “It’s good to meet you. I’m Buck’s Captain, Bobby Nash.”

Automatically Eddie’s posture stiffens into a more military hold as he shakes Bobby’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir. Eddie Diaz. Buck speaks highly of you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And just Bobby is fine,” Bobby smiles, as he lets go. “Now, tell me, what would you like for lunch?”

“Oh, I- I just ate and I don’t want to impose,” Eddie starts politely declining.

“We haven’t eaten yet, guests get to pick,” Buck says, before he nudges Eddie. “Tell him to make hotdish casserole.”

“It’s Eddie’s choice, not yours, Buck,” Hen scolds him.

“Like you never do that when Karen’s here,” Buck says, sticking out his tongue at her.

“This is so unfair, why do I never get guests that make Bobby cook what I want?” Chimney complains.

“Guess you need to make more friends,” Hen shrugs with a slightly mischievous grin.

“As if you wouldn’t be left high and dry if I started living up to my potential and making all the friends I could,” Chimney exclaims indignantly.

Eddie appears to be slightly overwhelmed while Hen and Chimney continue to bicker. He gives Buck a helpless look. Unhelpfully, Buck just whispers: “Hotdish casserole.”

“Hotdish casserole, I guess?” Eddie tells Bobby uncertainly, while Buck fist pumps.

“Hotdish casserole it is,” Bobby nods, having observed the whole thing with resigned fondness, before making his way up the stairs.

“Bobby, tell Hen she’s being mean,” Chimney calls out, skipping up the steps after him. “And can I still pick what we eat for dinner?”

“No, it’s my turn,” Hen yells, also quickly following after him. “Eddie just moves the turns up one, you don’t get to skip my turn.”

Within seconds Eddie and Buck are suddenly the only ones standing at the bottom of the stairs. Eddie stares after the others for a moment, then turns to Buck and dazedly asks: “Is it always like that?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Buck grins. “Now, I’m gonna ditch these pants. Up for being tossed the wolves without me or are you gonna wait down here?”

“Uh, I’ll wait down here,” Eddie says a bit too quickly, but Buck doesn’t call him out on it.

Buck makes his way over to where they store their gear and Eddie follows after him. To fill the air, he asks: “Did Chris get to school okay this morning?”

“Yeah, he did, he did,” Eddie says. “You know mom, she was up bright and early to tell me Chris’s PT was wrong, but she made breakfast and she insisted on driving him to school, which meant I didn’t have to be out there in the morning rush and I didn’t have to talk to the moms in the drop off line. So, I’m counting it as a win overall.”

“Fair enough,” Buck says, stepping out of his turnout pants. “I don’t know why you don’t like talking to the moms, they’re so nice.”

“They’re invasive,” Eddie wrinkles his nose.

“They’re nice,” Buck protests, putting away the pants and starting to walk towards the stairs.

“No, they’re nosy and you know it,” Eddie says. “Last week, Janet asked me why only me and you did drop off and never Chris’s mother.”

“Yeah, but Janet is a bitch, she doesn’t count.”

“She does count, she’s part of the pick up/drop off line. Very prominently.”

“But she is an outlier, all the other moms are nice. Stacy, for example, Stacy is nice.”

“Stacy is only nice to you, because she wants to fuck you. She hates my guts.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Buck frowns, he can’t imagine that Stacy hates Eddie. “And she’s never made a move on me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she thinks you’re gay and married to me, dumbass.”

“Well, then she’s not a homewrecker,” Buck points out.

“Wow, one point to Stacy for basic fucking human decency,” Eddie sniffs.

“You’re just being mean, because you hate talking to people,” Buck says. “Stacy is nice. She gave me that cookie recipe for the bake sale. And Barbara is nice too, you can’t deny that.”

“Of course I can’t deny Barbara is nice, but she’s the actual outlier. And Stacy’s cookies were crumbly and dry.”

“Man, you are such a drama queen, you ate like ten of those cookies,” Buck laughs, though he can’t deny that he’s having a grand old time bickering with Eddie about the moms from Chris’s school. It doesn’t hurt either that Eddie looks relaxed again, mirth in his eyes even as he bitches.

“I’m not going to say no to cookies just because they’re crumbly and dry,” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Chris gets that sweet tooth from you. The fact that you, good sir, don’t have more cavities is a miracle, I swear to god.”

“Hey, why are you singling me out?” Eddie asks offendedly.

“Because I brush Chris’s teeth,” Buck snorts.

“I brush my teeth too,” Eddie sulks. At this point, they’ve arrived upstairs, so Eddie clears his throat and changes topic: “Anyway, what’s this hotdish casserole all about? Since when are you a fan of that, I’ve literally never heard you about that before.”

“Oh, yeah, I made it for Chris once while you were on tour, but he didn’t like it. So, I don’t make it at home anymore,” Buck shrugs. “It’s a Midwestern thing. Bobby’s version is great, so I eat it at work instead.”

“It’s pretty good,” Chimney involves himself in the conversation. “It took me a while to warm up to Bobby’s Midwestern dishes, but it’s not bad when you get used to it.”

“Not much spice though,” Hen says.

“Ah, that’s familiar,” Eddie grimaces. “Buck also doesn’t use many spices.”

“Oi, I’ve gotten better at that,” Buck protests. “And you don’t get to judge my cooking when you burn water.”

Eddie gets wide eyes and elbows Buck in the side as he exclaims: “Don’t tell them that!”

Hen and Chimney burst out laughing and Chimney brightly assures Eddie: “It’s okay, Buckaroo already told us all about how you can’t cook,” as next to him Hen nods her agreement with a sympathetic look on her face.

“Why would you do that?” Eddie hisses.

“It naturally came up in conversation!” Buck defends himself slightly panicked. To deflect he quickly shifts gears: “Anyway, Eddie is planning on joining the fire academy. Maybe you guys can tell him more about the paramedic work? I’m gonna see if Bobby needs some help.”

Then he fully abandons Eddie to his fate (though he does it with the knowledge that Chim and Hen will keep the bullying to a minimum until Eddie is more familiar and they’re great at making people feel comfortable). Eddie will be fine. Probably.

Indeed when he and Bobby come back with the hotdish casserole, Hen and Chimney are explaining what they do and the difference to being just a firefighter in great detail as Eddie listens intently.

Over lunch, they talk more about firefighting in general, but they also ask Eddie a bit about his background and how he met Buck and such. It gives Eddie the opportunity to get some payback about the cooking, but Buck would like to have it on record that his spice tolerance wasn’t that bad and neither was his Spanish pronunciation, Eddie is exaggerating.

It’s quite nice to hang out with Eddie and the 118. Buck feels high on life and he has all but forgotten the bad mood he was in that morning.

However, reality comes crashing down on him when Eddie looks at his watch and sighs: “Guess I should get going if I want to pick up Chris on time.”

“You gonna Uber back and get the truck or do you wanna borrow the Jeep?” Buck asks, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“Can I borrow the Jeep?” Eddie replies, sounding hopeful at the thought of not having to face his parents without Chris as a shield.

“Course, as long as you come pick me up at the end of my shift too,” Buck grins. “I’m sure your parents will watch Chris while you do that.”

“Don’t remind me,” Eddie rolls his eyes as he gets up. “Where are your keys?”

Before Buck can answer, Hen asks: “You have a kid’s seat in your Jeep? I never noticed that.”

“Huh, me neither,” Chimney agrees.

“It’s not that weird you guys didn’t notice. I don’t think anyone makes it a habit to go to all the cars and look inside. I don’t at least,” Buck shrugs as the others nod that that makes sense. Buck gets up and says: “Keys are in my locker. Code is Chris’s birthday, so you should be able to get in yourself, but I’ll walk with you.”

“Great, thanks.” Eddie turns to everyone. “It was good to meet you all. Thank you for having me.”

“Of course, you’re always welcome in our house. It was nice to meet you too,” Bobby tells him kindly and Chimney and Hen are quick to agree with that.

With the goodbyes behind them, Eddie walks away, Buck right behind him. As they pass the pole, Buck gestures to it with a shit eating grin. “Wanna use the pole, Eddie?”

“I’m not a little kid,” Eddie deadpans.

“Don’t be a spoilsport, it’s part of the job. You want to be a firefighter, right? Firefighters go down the pole,” Buck insists a little too gleefully. It is partly for his own amusement, but it is also to make Eddie smile again. He can see that Eddie doesn’t like that he has to go and face his parents, leave the safe haven of the 118.

“No, you’re gonna make me go down the pole and then use the stairs.”

“Pinky promise, I won’t. I’ll even go first,” Buck says, holding out his pinky. “I can show you, so you’ll have a leg up on everyone else on your first day.”

“It’s going down a pole, I think I’ll live.”

“There’s a technique to it,” Buck says, wiggling his pinky in Eddie’s face once more as he makes a face he hopes is enticing.

Eddie looks at Buck for a beat, then he sighs and sags in defeat as he interlocks pinkies with Buck while Buck cheers. “Fine,” he sighs like a man getting ready for the gallows.

Buck shows him how to go down the pole properly, going down first as promised. Eddie looks to the ceiling for a moment, muttering to himself that this is stupid and pointedly not looking back to where the others are still sitting around the table, before following Buck down.

“That wasn’t so bad, eh?” Buck nudges him with his shoulder when he has landed.

“I guess not,” Eddie says, fighting a smile. Buck can see it, but he graciously doesn’t comment on it, instead leading the way to his locker so he can hand over the keys.

Once he’s dug it out of his bag, he holds it out to Eddie, but then he closes his hand before Eddie can take it. Eddie sends him a confused look and Buck hesitates for a moment, then he asks: “Will you tell me what made you snap later?”

Eddie blushes and doesn’t meet his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Hey, I won’t judge,” Buck says, giving Eddie imploring eyes. “I just want to know so I can tell you they’re wrong, okay? I’m here. I have your back. Whatever stupid shit it was, don’t let it get to you, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie replies, still sounding unsure, but with a tentative smile on his lips.

Buck hands him the keys at that. He grins and claps Eddie on the back, switching to a less serious tone as he says: “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“You’re a dork,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing too.

“A dork that’s lending you his car, so don’t get too cocky, Mister,” Buck corrects.

“Yeah, yeah, thank you,” Eddie says already walking away. He turns around after a few steps to call back: “Have a good day!”

“You too! Say hi to Chris for me,” Buck yells back as he waves.

Upstairs, Bobby, Chimney and Hen are leaning on the balustrade of the loft in a row, watching the two of them say their goodbyes. Chimney speaks up first: “Thirty bucks on them being married for real before Chris is a teenager.”

“Tsk, coward. Fifty on them being married for real by this time next year,” Hen says.

“Deal.” The two of them shake hands, then look over at Bobby. “What about you?”

“This is highly unprofessional,” Bobby tells them. Neither of them buy it for a second, giving him a judgmental look. Bobby only lasts two seconds before he breaks and says: “Twenty on them taking a decade.”

“Harsh,” Chimney whistles. “I like it.”

“Maybe he’s right,” Hen says thoughtfully. “We are talking about Buck…”

At this point, they are interrupted by Buck himself, who has spotted them up there and calls up: “What are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing,” they all collectively yell back, much to Buck’s confusion, though he just shrugs and takes it in stride as he goes towards the stairs to rejoin them.

A/N:

I’ll never get tired of writing the confused 118 trying to piece together Buck (or Eddie, but we haven’t gotten to a version of that) telling the story, as they struggle to quickly mentally adjust the image they have of him lol. Hope y’all don’t get tired of reading it either xp

Also, I fucking love writing silly conversations between people, I am fully using these AUAUs to write banter to amuse myself and I will not apologize for that

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melanieph321 · 1 year ago

Text

Ruben Dias - Be Mine Part 1/3

⚠️ +18 ⚠️

You have been warned, Ruben is the villain in this story! 👹

Anon asked: hey, have you ever written a story like ruben having an affair with his teammate's girlfriend?

No, but here is a try!

Enjoy!

He's doesn't deserve her, Ruben thought. Bernardo is not treating her the way he could treat her.

"What are you doing Dias, give it here!"

"Huh?" Ruben snapped out of his day dreaming. He found himself on the football pitch, Bernardo in his silly gloves and benie, demanding that Ruben pass him the ball.

"No! You idiot."

Ruben chuckled watching his friend run after the ball where he sent it flying over his head.

"You know, one day I'll get you back."

It was the end of training. He and Bernardo joined their teammates heading towards the dressing rooms.

"Keep dreaming." Ruben grabbed Bernardo's neck and squeezed it knowing his friend hated when he tormentented him this way.

"Awww!" He squeled, begging Ruben to let him go.

It was too easy, breaking him down. Another reason why Ruben thought that Bernardo didn't deserve her. Ines deserved someone who could protect her, someone strong. Like him.

"Dias!"

Both Ruben and Bernardo jumped at the shout of their coach. "Let him go!" He said, wagging a finger at Ruben to walk with him.

"Oh oh, someone's in trouble." Bernardo grinned at the fact.

"Shut up!" Ruben shoved Bernardo towards the dressing room, joining his coach who wanted a moment of Ruben's time.

"You play like shit, I hope you're aware of this?"

The two had barley made a lap around the football pitch before coach handed him the rough but honest truth.

"What's on your mind son, have I not given you everything you need to succeed?"

Ruben's coach insited on speaking to him in Portuguese. Another one of his bonding methods. One that Ruben found difficult since his coach Portuguese sounded worse than a person attempting to speak the language after two weeks of Dualingo lessons.

"I'm sorry coach, I promise to do better." Ruben nodded, convinced that he could improve.

"Whatever is on your mind lately, let it go." His coach put a pin to their little chat with this demand. Ruben returned to the dressing rooms only to find it empty. It was Friday, everyone had a rush to be somewhere after training. Ruben however, had nowhere to go.

"How did it go?"

"Fuck Bernardo! You scared me."

Ruben had gotten undressed, ready to hit the showers, when his friends head pocked through the dressing room door.

"Sorry. I was just wondering if he gave you a hard time? Worse than last time?"

"Nah, he just told me that I played like shit." Ruben draped a towel around his waist, shivering with the draft that Bernardo caused by holding the door open.

"Sorry." Bernardo said, notcing his friend trembles. He shut the door behind him, joining Ruben in the dressing room. "Last time was worse." He said sitting down.

Ruben shrugged. "It really doesn't matter, he is right."

"Don't say that."

"Be honest Bernardo, I haven't been able to get around the game like I used to. Coach isn't the only one to have noticed, it has effected the whole teams performance."

Silence fell in the dressing room. Bernardo looked to ponder the words that had been said. He came to a decision of his own. "It's just a slip on soap." He shrugged.

"A what?" Ruben did not comprehend what was going on in his friends mind. No one really did.

"A slip on soap." He repeated. "My grandad used to say that when you slip on soap you're pretty much helpless, inevitably anticipating your own fall. But once you're down all you can do is get up again, no?"

"Right." Ruben said, not really sure what he was agreeing to.

Bernardo stood. "Whatever you're going through is just a slip on soap. You'll get up eventually." He pushed open the dressing room door and turned back to look at Ruben. "Ines is celebrating her friends birthday tonight. I'm alone with the baby. Why won't you come over, help babysit?"

Ruben nodded, hiding his smile. "Alright, I'll see you later than."

"See you later and don't eat anything before you come. You know Ines, she might kill us both if we don't enjoy her cooking."

"I'll make sure to avoid it."

Ruben was happy to finally hit the showers. He stood rinsing his hair. The thought of seeing Ines tonight put a lasting smile on his face. Looking down he realized that all of him was excited to see her. However, he'd have to find a way to control himself around Bernardo. Ruben washed the foam out of his hair, grabbing a hold of the shaft of his hard dick. He began jerking off. Slow than fast. The thought of Ines flooded his mind. Sinful thoughts, thoughts he'd hope to entertain tonight.

Part 2

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #bernardo silva

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4littlefishies · 5 months ago

Text

The Eighth of September - No Making Fun of the Birthday Boy

satoru gojo x suguru geto

warnings: smut :3

wc: 10k

previous chapter here!

The months of October and November seem to whizz by in a flash, and before they know it, it’s the beginning of December. Neither of them were really all that surprised when they found out that the house was theirs, but of course they were absolutely elated at the news. More and more boxes are piling up around the apartment as they gradually start packing up their belongings for their move in just under two weeks before the start of new year. Satoru wanted to get into their new house as soon as possible, but Suguru was just doing his best to make it through the end of the year at work. He sits at the tail end of a meeting with Yaga, as well as a few other managers from different departments at HQ.

“Geto-san, please get that email sent to me asap. I need to have it by 8 o’clock tonight so that I can send it out to everyone on Monday morning.” Yaga says as they’re starting to wrap up the meeting that they didn’t get to earlier during the work day. It wasn’t often that he’d have to have a meeting so late after work, but with everyone’s busy schedules, it had to be done.

“Yes sir, I’ll have that over to you within the hour.” Suguru says as he looks down at his coworkers in small boxes on his laptop screen. He wasn’t the only one that was busy and this meeting just confirmed it. They all felt like they were chickens running around with their heads cut off - and looked like it too - but that just seemed to be the normal for December in this business. Everyone signs off with burnt-out and weary goodbye’s and weak waves and Suguru gets back to finishing his extensive to-do list.

“Roo!” Satoru shouts from the hallway back towards where Suguru sits at his desk in the office. “Do you know where my headband with the cat ears went?” He had been listening in to make sure that he didn’t interrupt Suguru’s meeting and waited until he heard that everyone had signed off before shouting out.

“Where did you leave it last?” Suguru sighs before he responds, not looking up from where he scrolls on his laptop, trying to finish the work that he desperately needed to get done.

“I thought I left it in this bathroom, but now I can’t find it.” Satoru says, now leaning up against the doorway of the office with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“It probably already got packed away because you never use it, my love.” Suguru’s voice is calm and sweet as he lifts his gaze and looks past his screen. His eyes are tired from looking at screens all day, but this needed to get done, no matter if it was a weekend or not. It was the end of the year, so things were extra busy trying to get everything wrapped up as well as going along with normal tasks. “Can you shut the door behind you?” He asks, hoping that Satoru will take his hint and leave him alone to work. Suguru had been working longer days at the office and had been doing more work from home after his already long days. It definitely helped that Satoru was always there for him when he came home, but it didn’t make it any less tiresome and stressful.

“I do to use it.” Satoru defends, closing the door and walking into the office and around the desk to see what Suguru’s working on.

“That’s not what I meant.” Suguru grumbles mostly to himself.

Satoru watches as he types away, trying to finish drafting up an email that’s going to be sent out to all of the heads of operations at each branch across the country. He rests one hand on Suguru’s shoulder and the other on the desk, leaning forward to see what he’s writing. “What’cha writing?” Satoru asks curiously, the smile on his face loud in his voice.

Suguru takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before continuing to type on his keyboard. “Something that should’ve been done earlier this week, but needs to be done now.” He emphasizes. It was early on Friday night, the night before Satoru’s 30th birthday to be more specific. He was trying his best not to snap at his husband on account of it almost being his birthday, but Satoru was seemingly doing his best to make it extra difficult.

“You can’t get someone else to do it?” Satoru whines, leaning further down to try to get Suguru to look at him. “It’s my birthday eve and I wanna spend time with my husband.” Satoru grumbles with his brows knit together.

Suguru’s mouth twitches towards a smile at Satoru’s use of the phrase ‘birthday eve’ and finally takes the bait, pausing his typing and turning his head to look Satoru in the eye. Satoru tries to lean in for a kiss, but is met with a short and simple, “No,” Before Suguru turns his head back to finish typing.

“Unhh!” The noise that leave’s Satoru’s mouth is only describable as a whine but also a groan at the same time.

“I said no.”

“I can’t even have one kiss?” Satoru stands up as he lets out another whine, leaning his head back and squeezing his eyes shut dramatically.

“No, because one will turn into two which will turn into me not getting this done before 8, which is when it needs to be done, Satoru.” Suguru slightly raises his voice as he’s trying his best to focus. He wants to finish everything in the next 30 minutes and he doesn’t have enough hands to finish it all even if he wasn’t being bothered by his husband. Satoru is quiet for a moment and Suguru inhales and lets it out with a slow sigh, feeling shitty for snapping at him. “I’m sorry, Roo… I just really need to finish this and- can you please just leave me alone for just a little longer? I promise this is the last thing I need to do.”

“Do you want me to help you with anything?” Satoru asks softly as he straightens back up. He was no stranger to helping out Suguru with work things; he was practically his assistant at this point.

“No.” Suguru says, shaking his head. “I’m okay for now.” He says, trying not to sound so harsh when Satoru’s genuinely trying to help him. Most of what needed to be done were things only he would know how to do, and they needed to get done quickly, so he didn’t have time to teach Satoru how to do them.

“Okay.” Satoru finally takes his answer and presses a soft kiss to the top of his head before heading back towards the door. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Satoru says teasingly, looking back over his shoulder with a smirk as he heads out of the room. Suguru has the faintest smile on his face, looking up at Satoru for a split second and meeting eyes with him just before he shuts the door behind him.

Letting out a sigh, Suguru leans back in his chair, stretching out his arms for just a moment and twisting himself around to crack his back before getting back to work. Well I feel like an asshole. He opens his notes on his computer only to see the litany of things that had yet to be crossed off of his to-do list. Year-end meant working with accounting to plan out the budget for next year, working with department heads to work out the performance goals for the next year, working with his own department to track and set new KPIs, and a myriad of other things that didn’t even make the list.

For being only six months into the job, it felt like everyone in the world hated him, although he knew that wasn’t the case whatsoever. It wasn’t only on his shoulders, but every little thing that was going wrong felt to Suguru like it was all his fault. He knew it really wasn’t that serious, but after the last couple of weeks that he’d had at work, it for sure felt like that.

“How am I gonna get all this shit done?” He whispers tensely to himself as he rakes his fingers through his hair. He shakes his head as he stares down at the list before opening up his email once again. Thankfully, this was the final thing that needed to get done for the day; the rest could technically wait until Monday, so once he was finished, he could relax a little bit and try to enjoy his Friday night.

After finishing the three different tasks he was simultaneously working on, as well as the email, he decided to proofread it one last time before sending it off. The words feel like a jumbled mess in his mind, but as he reads it back to himself, it mostly makes sense. “Baby?” He calls out loudly, knowing that Satoru will hear him and come running in like a dog.

Sure enough, footsteps are heard hurrying down the hallway and Satoru opens the door with a smile on his face. “Yes, my sweet?” Satoru responds in a singsong voice which causes an eye roll and puts a grin on Suguru’s face.

“Can you just read this and see if it makes sense before I send it to Yaga?” He asks as Satoru saunters into the room. In his previous position, Yaga felt more unreachable - like he was just some distant higher up who didn’t know he existed. But now, as the Vice President of Operations, he was one of his direct bosses. “I feel like my brain is fried and I don't know if this actually sounds decent.”

“Of course I can.” Satoru says, rubbing Suguru’s back as he leans over him, reading the long email that would be sent out to every head of operations come Monday morning. Suguru has a tired smile on his face feeling Satoru’s warm hand on his back through the fabric of his tshirt. He had been so busy all week that he’d barely had any time to spend with him. “Sounds good to me, Suguboo.” Satoru says, standing up with a smile. “I think you’re good to send it.”

“Thank you.” Suguru says quietly, his voice tired as he clicks send and shuts his laptop. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.” He leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands before letting out a long sigh.

“It’s okay. I get it.” Satoru says, his voice soft and gentle. “Thank you for apologizing though.”

“It’s not okay though… You really are the best.” When Suguru brings his hands down from rubbing his eyes, Satoru is leaning up against the desk right next to him looking down with a big smile on his face, his hands on either side of his hips with his fingers wrapped around the top of the desk. “What did you do?” He asks, knowing that he’s for sure up to something.

“I know I’m the best.” Satoru says confidently. “Why do you think I did something?!” He asks, the smile on his face a telltale sign that he did indeed do something.

“You have that look on your face.” Suguru says with narrowed eyes, looking up as Satoru shakes his head at him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Satoru says as he sits down and makes himself comfortable right in Suguru’s lap.

“I’m not so sure this chair can hold the weight of both of us.” Suguru warns, wrapping his arms around Satoru’s waist and holding him close despite his statement. He rests his head against his back, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly.

“Sure it can!” Satoru assures him. “I did do something though…” He says as Suguru sits there with his eyes still closed.

“Oh yeah? What did you do?” He asks, curious to know what Satoru’s been doing while he’s been holed up in his office since he got home earlier.

“Come on.” Satoru says, trying to stand up, but realizing that he’s still trapped in by his husband’s strong arms. “Baby, you have to let me go if you wanna see.” Satoru says, trying to turn around to see his face, but it’s still buried in his back.

“Not yet. Wanna just sit here for a lil’ longer.” Suguru says, his face squished against his soft tshirt. After a few more quiet moments Satoru tries to stand up once more, only to be squeezed even tighter.

“Sugu… Can’t breathe like this.” Satoru says, his voice pained as he tries for a third time to stand up, only to be held by Suguru’s boa constrictor like strength.

“Not yet.” Satoru isn’t one for patience when he has a surprise waiting to be revealed, so with one good push, he’s able to break free from Suguru’s hold and get himself up. “Nooo, you smell so good.” Suguru says, readjusting the grip of his arms around Satoru’s torso once again, this time his face pressed against his stomach with his eyes closed once again and a soft smile.

“I’m done waiting, come on.” Satoru says, reaching down just far enough to reach under Suguru’s legs. In one fell swoop, he picks him up from his spot in the chair and starts to carry him out towards the kitchen.

“I’m falling!” Suguru shouts out with a laugh as Satoru tries his best to walk with the awkward hold he has on his husband.

“It’s not my fault you’re holding onto my stomach. Stand up and grab my shoulders.” With that, Suguru plants his feet on the ground and Satoru is able to easily pick him up once again. This time, with Suguru’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, he’s able to walk normally with his koala-like husband out to the kitchen where he has dinner set up on the table for the two of them. He gracefully sets him down and lets out a, “Ta-daaaa!” As he holds out his arms towards the food set up on the table.

“Toru.” Suguru coos, sticking out his bottom lip as he takes in the view in front of him. “Why did you do all this?” He asks, recognizing soba from his favorite restaurant almost immediately.

“You’ve been so stressed out at work this week, I thought you could use it.” He says as Suguru pulls him in for a hug. He presses a kiss to the side of his head and holds him tight.

Suguru feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. “Thank you, baby.” He says, his voice just barely a whisper. “But your birthday is tomorrow, I should be doing this for you.”

“Don’t you worry, Sugu. You can do whatever it is that you have planned for tomorrow, but I can still spoil you for tonight.” Satoru says with a smile as they sit down on either side of the table. Suguru chuckles lightly as he looks at the spread in between the two of them. “So…” He starts as they both pick up their chopsticks and get to eating.

“So?” Suguru asks, waiting for Satoru to finish what he obviously wants to say.

“What do we have planned for tomorrow?” Satoru asks with a smile on his face before he takes his first bite. Suguru had asked if he wanted him to plan something and Satoru agreed, so of course he had a few things planned for them throughout the day that he knew Satoru would enjoy.

“Don’t you want it to be a surprise?” Suguru asks with one eyebrow cocked. “I thought you liked being surprised.”

Satoru twists his mouth to the side, thinking about it for a moment. “You’re right… Actually, I wanna know… Wait! No, don’t tell me.” Satoru goes back and forth, deciding if he wants to be totally surprised or not.

“Do you want me to tell you one thing we’re doing?” Suguru suggests, knowing he’s going to give himself a headache if he keeps going back and forth on whether he wants everything to be a surprise to him or not.

“Are we getting matching tattoos?” Satoru guesses, his eyes wide as he looks across the table.

Suguru furrows his brows and tilts his head slightly to the side in confusion. “Baby, why would that be one of the surprises?” Satoru had never mentioned anything of the sort, so it came completely out of nowhere. “Do you want to get matching tattoos?” He asks, looking at Satoru with a questioning look.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I wanna look like my cool sexy husband.” Satoru answers, giving him a wink as he says it, which pulls a slight chuckle from Suguru.

“You’ve been thinking about it?” Satoru nods his head eagerly. “Why haven’t you said anything sooner?”

Satoru takes a bite of one of the tempura shrimp, thinking for just a second before he answers. “I dunno.” He shrugs, swallowing the bite in his mouth. “We’ve just been really busy and it’s not that pressing of a matter.”

“We can go to my artist if you want, Toru.” Suguru suggests. “We’d probably have to get in next month though, he’s usually pretty booked up.”

Satoru feels excitement building in his chest at the thought. “Really?”

“Yeah, I can message him later. Have you thought about what you want?” He asks, ready to make a mental note of it so that he can let his artist know.

Satoru pulls out his phone and quickly scrolls through his camera roll, looking for the screenshot he’d taken a while back. “I was trying to think of something that would also look good with your dragons, but I think something like this would be nice.” He says, showing Suguru a simple looking design with two koi fish, almost in a yin and yang position, one black and one white. “Also I want something that doesn’t really scream I’m in the Yakuza, you know?”

Nodding his head, Suguru smiles. Of course Satoru wouldn’t pick something that had no meaning behind it. The koi fish, as well as the yin and yang symbolism quickly stood out to him. “Oh yeah,” Suguru says, grabbing Satoru’s phone from him and looking more closely at the screenshot. “Choso could definitely do something like this. Can you send that to me?” He asks, handing Satoru his phone back.

Satoru quickly texts it to him and sets his phone back down. “I just want it to have some meaning, you know?” He asks.

“I definitely get it, baby.” Suguru smiles across the table at him. Naturally he would want his first tattoo to mean a lot to him. “I think it’s perfect.” Satoru smiles back at him, glad that he approves of his choice of art for both of their bodies. “Then maybe your next one can be something a little different.”

“Well, let’s see how I feel about the first one before we start talking about more.” Satoru says, an excited, but slightly nervous feeling in his stomach already. “Tattoos might be more of your thing than mine, but I want at least one. You can’t be the only one in our family with a cool tattoo.”

Suguru smiles at his use of the phrase our family. “You sure you’re gonna be able to sit still long enough for him to do it?” He teases as he picks up another bite of his soba. “It doesn’t feel very good.”

“Are you already trying to talk me out of it?” Satoru asks, raising his eyebrows at Suguru. “I’ll sit so still you’ll think I’m a statue.” He says, extremely sure of himself. Suguru nods his head, not as sure about that, but excited at his seemingly newfound interest in getting a tattoo.

“I’ll message him tomorrow. Hopefully he’ll be able to get us in before the new year, but usually he’s pretty busy this time of year, so don’t get your hopes up, okay?” Suguru lets him know. “I think it’ll be better to do it after we move, anyway.” Satoru nods his head, just happy that it’s going to happen at all. “Did you actually want me to tell you something that I had planned for us tomorrow or not?”

Satoru furrows his brows, thinking for a moment before answering. “How many things do you have planned?” He asks, curious to know more about the day ahead of them.

“Baby, do you want me to tell you or not?” Suguru chuckles lightly. “I know that if I tell you one thing, you’re gonna keep bothering me to know everything, so I’m either telling you the plans for the whole day or everything is staying a secret.”

“Okay, okay, tell me, I wanna know.” Satoru finally decides, the feeling eating him up inside.

“Well first we’re gonna go to a patisserie in Setagaya for lunch where you can get whatever your little sugar-crammed heart desires.” Suguru starts. Satoru’s eyes light up at the thought of it, but Suguru continues before he can say anything. “Then we’re going to karaoke with Shoko, Utahime, Haibara, and Ijichi.” He continues, seeing Satoru’s face light up even more, as if that was possible. “Then we’re gonna have dinner and spend the night at the Mandarin Oriental.”

Satoru’s mouth hangs open upon hearing everything that Suguru has planned for his birthday. “Sugu…” He starts. Suguru looks up from his noodles at him, waiting patiently for him to finish what he’s about to say. “If we weren’t already married I’d ask you to marry me right now.” Satoru says with complete seriousness on his face.

Suguru chuckles lightly at the phrase that he’d become more and more used to hearing. “I know, and you know that I’d say yes every single time.” Satoru smiles back across the table at him, restless with anticipation of the day that is to come.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Where are we going for karaoke again?” Satoru asks, looking over at Suguru as they drive towards their second destination of the day.

“Baby, I think this is the third time I’ve told you that we’re going to Karaoke-Kan, the same place we go every time.” Suguru says, tapping his hand on Satoru’s leg as he drives.

“Oh yeah.” He says, mostly focused on the bag full of treats sitting on the ground between his feet. He had picked out his own birthday cake, as well as a whole other box full of smaller sweets that would have given Suguru a heart attack once he heard the price if he hadn’t done the thorough research that he had. He made sure to set aside a lot more cash than he thought he would need because of course Satoru would need to try at least one of everything that they had. “What time is our dinner?” He asks, looking over to Suguru once again.”

“We just ate lunch and you’re already thinking about dinner?” Suguru asks with a slight chuckle, although he isn’t one bit surprised.

“What can I say? I’m excited, Gugu.”

Suguru gives his thigh a slight squeeze before he answers his question. “We can check in to our room at 5:00, but our dinner reservation isn’t until 6:30, so we have some time to get ready beforehand.”

“I'm excited.” Satoru says as he looks out the window as they approach their second destination of the day. The sky is cloudy and the air is cool, but nothing out of the ordinary for a typical December day.

“I can tell.” Suguru says, looking over at him with a smile.

Once they find a place to park and make it to the building where they’re heading, they’re quickly shown to their karaoke room where all of their friends are already waiting.

“Happy birthday!” Haibara excitedly shouts out as soon as Satoru opens the door to their room. The other three hadn’t noticed until he had already shouted that they were there, so they missed the cue, inadvertently leaving him alone.

“Happy birthday!” Shoko, Utahime, and Ijichi all say in unison after recognizing their mistake.

“Hey guys!” Satoru says with an elated smile on his face as Suguru closes the door behind them, not even noticing the poorly executed happy birthday exclamation.

“I hope you guys haven’t been here too long. Somebody couldn’t decide what kind of birthday cake he wanted.” Suguru says, raising his eyebrows as he makes eye contact with Shoko.

Satoru smacks Suguru lightly on the arm. “It’s my birthday, Sugu, you’re not supposed to throw me under the bus like that.”

“My mistake, I was taking too long to pick out what flavor of birthday cake I wanted for my birthday that’s definitely today,” Suguru says with a grin as he sits down on the bench next to Satoru.

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Shoko nods her head with furrowed brows in agreement.

“So have you guys done any songs yet?” Satoru asks, already having some song ideas ready in his head.

“Nope, we wanted to wait until you guys got here.” Haibara answers as Satoru scrolls through the options, looking for the first song that he wanted to do.

Suguru already knows exactly what Satoru’s looking for. It’s always the first song he goes for when they go to karaoke, no matter who they’re with. “If you’re looking for Butterfly, you already passed it.” He points out, watching as Satoru furrows his brows looking for it.

“Of course I’m looking for Butterfly, Sugu.” Satoru says, scrolling back up to find the song that he hadn’t seen that he passed already.

“There it is!” Suguru, as well as Haibara shout out, watching as he scrolls past it for a second time.

“Thanks guys.” Satoru says as he presses on it and grabs the microphone from the table that sits in front of them. The song starts to play with the lyrics coming on the screen, but Satoru doesn’t need to so much as glance at them because he knows the song by heart.

“I can’t believe you’re actually 30.” Utahime mutters, shaking her head as the lyrics for the Digimon Adventure theme song start up on the screen.

“Utahime, no making fun of the birthday boy.” Satoru says into the microphone in a ridiculously silly voice just before he starts singing along perfectly. Utahime shakes her head with a roll of her eyes as Satoru sings along.

Suguru smiles, watching his husband seemingly have the time of his life. “He’s actually really good at this.” Haibara says, looking over at Suguru with a wide smile on his face. Suguru chuckles and nods his head, agreeing with him.

Haibara quietly sings along without a microphone until Satoru notices and hands him the second one, urging him heavily to sing along with him. They have the room for two hours before Satoru and Suguru have to head off to finish the rest of what they have planned for the day. It’s a very loud and excitable two hours, filled with plenty of Satoru yelling into the microphone to get everyone’s attention.

“Satoru, we’re right here, you don’t have to yell at us.” Utahime says with her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as she sips on her drink. Ijichi covers his ears, trying not to accrue hearing damage from Satoru’s antics with the microphone.

“I just gotta make sure you guys can hear me.” He says with a smirk on his face as he picks up an onion ring off of the tower that they’d ordered.

“We can hear you plenty without it.” Utahime grumbles to herself as she leans over and rests her head on Shoko’s shoulder.

Suguru sings a couple songs with Satoru and one with Shoko, but leaves most of the singing to the others, as does Ijichi. Sitting between Suguru and Utahime, Ijichi focuses on watching and having a good time just watching everyone else sing, deciding against singing something for most of their time there.

“Ijichi, if I sing with you, will you please sing something? Just one song?” Utahime asks, hoping that he’ll do it at least once. He looks over at Shoko who nods her head with an excited smile, urging him to do it.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out with a sigh, really thinking hard about it before he finally gives in and agrees. “Only if you’re actually going to sing with me though.” He says, hesitantly taking the microphone from Haibara after he just finished a song on his own.

“I’m not gonna leave you hanging, don’t worry.” She says with a smile as she scrolls through the songs, looking for one that they could sing.

“Did you have a good time?” Suguru says quietly into Satoru’s ear once he feels his head resting on his shoulder.

“Mhm.” Satoru hums in response, nodding his head as it sits on Suguru’s shoulder. “Thank you for planning this.” He rests his hand on Suguru’s thigh and gives it a squeeze, which in turn, Suguru responds with a kiss on the top of his head. The smile on Satoru’s face is wide as he listens to Utahime and Ijichi sing along to Shinunoga E-Wa. Utahime confidently sings at Shoko from the front of the room, while Ijichi is a bit more reserved like he’s trying to curl in on himself, his voice barely picked up by the microphone. Satoru starts singing along with them, noticing that Ijichi isn’t as sure of himself as Utahime is when it comes to karaoke.

Ultimately, Shoko, Haibara, Satoru, and Suguru all join in and sing along with the two of them as they make their way through the song, excited to be spending time together as a group after they hadn’t all been together in nearly a year.

“You guys are sure you can’t stick around for another hour?” Haibara asks as Satoru and Suguru are getting ready to leave. “I think we’re gonna stay for a while longer if you guys want to.”

“We’d love to, but we really have to get going, we have to check in and have reservations that we can’t be late for.” Suguru says, picking up Satoru’s jacket and handing it to him.

“Well thank you guys for inviting us! Have a great dinner and happy birthday Satoru!” Haibara says with a smile, followed by a chorus of happy birthday’s from the rest of the group as they head out the door.

“Thank you guys!” Satoru calls out as he closes the door behind him. He lets out a huff, not realizing how hot it was in the room until he’s out of it. “That was really fun, Roo.” Satoru says, grabbing onto Suguru’s hand as they walk back towards the front door. “Thank you for planning all of this.”

“Of course, baby.” Suguru says with a smile as he opens the door for Satoru, the cold December air hitting their cheeks and quickly making their exposed skin prickle at the temperature. They hurry to the car, wanting to get out of the cold as quickly as they can. The drive to the hotel isn’t long, and when they get there, Suguru hands his keys to the valet attendant so that they don’t have to worry about parking. Satoru grabs their small shared bag from the back seat and carries it inside, his other hand laced in Suguru’s.

They head towards the elevator and up to the hotel lobby that sits on the top floor of the building. They make their way up to the front desk and easily get checked in and get the key to their room. The woman helping them at the front desk leads them back towards the guest elevators, presses the button to go down and steps back while they wait for the doors to open. Satoru gives Suguru’s hand a squeeze, not knowing what kind of room to expect.

“She gave us tea!” Satoru says excitedly as the doors close and they take the quick elevator ride down the couple floors to the 33rd floor. Suguru smiles as he presses a quick kiss to his cheek just in time for the doors to reopen to the small elevator lobby. They follow the signs to find their room. “3308, right?” Suguru nods his head as they head down the hallway towards the end.

Satoru taps the key to the door and turns the handle once the lock clicks. He pushes open the door to a dimly lit room. The sun had already gone down, leaving the room almost completely in the dark. After flicking on the lights and closing the door behind them, Satoru’s mouth hangs open as he looks around. “Wow, Gugu. You really went all out huh?” He asks, turning around to look at Suguru who’s checking out the bathroom.

“I didn’t think it would be this nice.” Suguru admits from the bathroom, looking out the window that sits behind the large bathtub. “This is gorgeous.” He says, stepping back out into the main room where Satoru sits on the chaise that’s in front of the large floor to ceiling window. He had already found the button that opens up the curtains and was looking out the window.

“It’s like the same as at home, but still different, you know?” He says, looking behind him as Suguru walks across the room to sit next to him.

Suguru chuckles lightly at his observation. “I do know.” He says with a smile as he sits down next to Satoru and wraps his arm around his shoulder.

“Thank you for all this, Sugu.” Satoru says, leaning into Suguru and resting his head against his chest. “You made my birthday really great.”

“Sorry I didn’t get you the cheesecake from Okinawa this time though.” He points out as they look out across the twinkling city lights together. “I’m afraid that’s reserved exclusively for anniversaries.” He continues, the smile apparent in his voice.

“And I’m perfectly fine with that.” Satoru says, looking up into Suguru’s warm eyes through his snow colored lashes with a smile on his face. “I love you.” He says softly.

“I love you too.” Suguru says, leaning in to press a tender kiss against his lips. “Happy birthday Toru.” He whispers before going back in for another kiss, this one lasting a little bit longer than the first. They smile up against each other’s lips, leaning into each other more and more.

Satoru pulls back and looks quickly down at his watch on his wrist for a moment. “What time did you say our dinner was?” He asks with a devious smile. Suguru looks down at his watch and sees that they don’t have to be at the restaurant for well over an hour. It was only 5 floors up, so it would only take them minutes to get there, if even that. He doesn’t even answer Satoru’s question as he leans back in to kiss him once again, this time more needy to mesh their lips together. Satoru lets out a soft moan into his mouth as he leans back into the chaise and Suguru moves over top of him. He lets Suguru’s knee slot its way in between his legs as he kneels over him. “Can I ask for one birthday present?” Satoru murmurs in between kisses.

“You want it now?” Suguru asks, slightly confused, thinking that they were just about to start something. “I was going to wait until dinner to give it to you.”

“No, no, I mean…” Satoru trails off as he slowly unbuttons Suguru’s shirt, revealing his tattoos that he’s grown to know like the back of his hand. “I wanna fuck you.” He says, looking up into his husband’s eyes through his own wispy lashes with his bottom lip in between his teeth.

Suguru’s eyes widen in surprise and he starts to laugh slightly until he realizes that his husband is serious. “Oh, you actually mean it?” He asks, his mouth slightly agape as he looks down at Satoru.

“Why wouldn’t I mean it, Sugu?” Satoru asks with furrowed brows. “Are you saying I can’t?”

Suguru shakes his head quickly, trying to hide the smile on his face. “No, no, baby. I’m not saying that you can’t, I’m just saying…” He stops for a moment trying to gather his thoughts. He clicks his tongue before he continues on. “It’s just- you can barely handle me fucking you, how do you expect to be able to do it?” Suguru asks, a slight teasing tone in his voice.

“You don’t think I can?” Satoru asks with his brows raised and a smirk on his lips, now seeing it as a challenge and wanting it even more.

Suguru bites his bottom lip, looking at the way Satoru looks underneath him. He looks so sweet, his cheeks pink just from their few kisses and his eyes full of love. “I didn’t say that… I’d love to see you try, I just don’t think you’ll last longer than a minute is all I’m saying.”

Satoru scoffs at his answer with knitted together brows. “Oh yeah?” His voice is full of sass as he asks, really wanting to prove him wrong now.

“Yeah.” Suguru doubles down with a nod, looking back at his cocky husband with a smirk on his lips. He dives his head down against Satoru’s neck, pressing a few kisses to the skin below his jaw which earns a shaky moan out of him. “You can barely handle this, Satoru.” Suguru teases, his breath hot against the skin of his neck as he whispers. He lets his tongue trace lightly up the side of his neck, trying his best to reduce him to a shaky, whimpering mess just with his tongue.

“That’s n-not the same thing.” Satoru says with his brows furrowed as he already feels like putty under his husband’s touch. His breath is shaky as he feels Suguru’s hot lips and tongue against the skin of his throat as he kisses and sucks expertly on the most sensitive spot.

“How about…” Suguru starts, his voice warm against Satoru’s neck as he speaks, “I fuck you now-” He’s interupted by a whine from deep in Satoru’s chest. “Hey, I wasn’t done yet. If you stop your whining and behave yourself, maybe after dinner I’ll let you do it. We have all night and won’t have to rush anything that way, hmm? How’s that sound, baby?” Suguru suggests, not even waiting for an answer before going back to pepper kisses along his neck once again.

“Ha-ah.” Satoru’s breath gets caught in his throat for a second as Suguru sucks lightly on the spot just underneath his earlobe. “Deal.” Satoru manages to get out as he starts unbuttoning his own shirt before tossing it to the ground.

With a smile, Suguru sheds his own shirt, tossing it onto the floor and bringing one of his hands up to cup Satoru’s face, the other holding him up as he hovers over him. He lets out a groan as Satoru brings one of his hands down to massage the bulge between his legs. He smiles against Satoru’s lips as he quickly feels himself growing harder. Grinding his hips down against Satoru’s hand, wanting more friction, he lets out a soft groan at the feeling.

Satoru hastily unbuttons his pants and Suguru does the same, sitting back on his knees for a moment. With help from Suguru, Satoru pulls his pants and boxers off in one go. Suguru does the same, kicking his off onto the floor beside them. “How did I get so lucky?” Suguru murmurs as he leans back in, his lips attacking Satoru’s once again like they were air and he was suffocating. Satoru’s whole body feels like it’s on fire. No matter how many times he hears Suguru’s sweet words, it sends an electricity throughout each and every nerve like it’s the first time all over again. Now with nothing on but their wedding rings, they grab eagerly at each other, warm fingers gripping into soft skin as they make out like teenagers on the chaise in front of the open window, 33 floors up.

As he pulls back slightly, Satoru whines, not wanting Suguru to pull away just yet, but is quickly met with his fingers in front of his mouth. Without needing to be asked, he parts his lips, letting them inside past his teeth. Suguru presses his middle finger into the warmth of Satoru’s tongue, licking his lips as he watches his lips close around the digit. “Always so good for me.” He praises as Satoru opens his lips once more to let Suguru press another finger against his tongue.

“Mmm.” Satoru hums happily, his mouth wetting Suguru’s fingers because he knows exactly what to expect next. He looks up at him through his lashes with needy eyes, wanting to feel his fingers inside of him already. His cock is hard, resting against his stomach as he watches his husband smile at the sight in front of him. Suguru looks down at him, a devilish smile on his lips as his bangs hang down between them, tickling the skin of Satoru’s cheeks ever so slightly.

After a couple seconds longer, Suguru slides his fingers out of Satoru’s mouth, the same smile on his mouth as he looks into the bright blues beneath him. As he trails his hand slowly down between them, his fingers slowly trace down the underside of Satoru’s cock, making his hips twitch upward. “Ah- Sugu,” He whines out as Suguru’s wet fingers ghost the skin of his fully hardened cock, “it’s my birthday, no teasing.”

Suguru’s eyes dip to look between the two of them, almost seeming like he was contemplating something for a moment. “Even the birthday boy has to be patient, Toru. You should know that by now.” Suguru says, sitting back on his knees for a moment and quickly yanking Satoru down closer to him by his legs and in one quick move, throwing his hips up over his own shoulders. His knees are now just about on either side of his head as Suguru has him folded in half over himself.

“Sugu what are you-” He starts to ask, but is quickly silenced as Suguru’s hot tongue is pressed against his hole. “Ah!” Satoru cries out, surprised by the sudden change in position. The way Suguru licks and sucks at his hole is enough to have him grasping at anything he can get ahold of. He brings one hand down on top of Suguru’s hand that sits on the back of his thigh holding his hips up and grasps for his fingers. “Fuck,” Satoru moans, Suguru locking their fingers together as he turns his husband into a whiny mess.

It’s not long before he brings his free hand with his already wet fingers up and presses one inside, pulling his mouth just far enough away to allow them to do so. “You doing okay, baby?” Suguru asks despite already knowing the answer. He slowly pushes his finger all the way in before pulling it out almost painfully slowly before pressing it back inside once again. The way Satoru’s walls are already squeezing around him tells him all he needs to know about how he’s feeling. Nothing but a faint whimper escapes Satoru’s mouth, putting a small frown on Suguru’s lips. “I know you can do better than that, Toru.” He says, his already slow movements coming to a halt as he looks down at his obviously flustered husband, waiting for a response to the question he asked.

“Yes, Sugu,” He mewls out with his brows knit together, “Feels so good, please don’t stop.”

“See, I knew my good boy Satoru knew how to use his words.” Suguru says, his tone slightly teasing as he pushes his finger back inside, only to quickly add his second finger, pulling another moan from Satoru’s chest. “Doing so good for me baby, you always take my fingers so well.”

“Nngh-” Satoru moans, his walls squeezing around Suguru’s fingers as they slowly massage him from the inside. His teeth dig into the flesh of his bottom lip and his fingers grip harder onto suguru’s hand as he revels in the feeling.

Watching similarly with his bottom lip in between his teeth, Suguru smiles at the way his husband twitches around just his fingers, looking up at the way his face twists and contorts with pleasure. With his other hand, he strokes his cock a couple times before pulling his fingers out, earning a needy whine from Satoru. He lets his hips down gently before he kneels between his open thighs, eager to be inside of him already. He presses his already leaky tip against Satoru’s wet entrance, pausing and teasing him for just a second before he slowly pushes inside. A moan rips from both of their chests at the feeling. After Suguru’s incredibly busy week at the office, they hadn't had the time, let alone the energy to have sex in nearly a week - which they both thought had to be some sort of record for them. They’d both been waiting for this all week, and now that it was finally happening, neither of them ever wanted it to end.

“Fuck, baby.” Suguru hisses out as he presses all the way inside. “So fucking soft and warm for me, yeah?” He says, looking down at Satoru who nods up at him with hazy eyes. “It’s like you were made just for me.” Suguru mutters, not caring how cliche it sounds because he fully believes it himself.

“Mhmm,” Is all Satoru can manage to get out as he wraps his arms around Suguru’s neck, pulling him down, crashing their lips together. He licks lazily into Suguru’s mouth, wanting to feel closer to him in any way that he can - as if he can’t already feel him so deep that he swears he’s in his throat. Suguru’s thrusts are slow and deep, his cock dragging against every wrinkle and ridge of Satoru’s gummy walls. “So slow.” Satoru manages to get out against Suguru’s lips, his teasing tone obvious even is his already fucked out state. He was already feeling himself creep closer to the edge, but didn’t want it to be over just yet.

“Slow? If this is too slow for you, you’ve gotta tell me what you want, birthday boy.” Suguru murmurs back against Satoru’s lips with a smirk as his hips come to a stop. Satoru pushes back on his abs and he pulls out, although slightly confused. They both let out a moan at the sudden emptiness and lack of warmth from one another, but Satoru quickly flips himself over and positions himself on his knees. He looks back at Suguru with half-lidded sapphires and a fox-like smirk on his face. Suguru smirks back, twisting his mouth to the side as he pushes his hair back over his shoulder and out of his way.

“I want you to make it so I have a hard time walking to dinner.” Satoru says, sounding very sure of himself. So sure of himself that it takes Suguru a bit by surprise. He’s left kneeling behind his husband with his mouth slightly agape, not entirely used to him being like this in the bedroom.

“Yes sir.” His hands find purchase on either side of his hips before he all but slams back into Satoru, much more aggressive this time.

“Ah- f- fuck!” Satoru cries out with a wide smile on his face as he grips onto the back of the chaise while his husband relentlessly fucks into hims from behind. Somehow his cock manages to perfectly hit his sweet spot with every thrust, Satoru letting out endless trails of moans at the feeling and at the continuous praises that spill from Suguru’s mouth.

“You’re absolutely perfect, Toru. Breathtaking in every way.” He says, literally sounding out of breath. “Don’t know how I was the one that got so lucky to have you. I love you Satoru.” Satoru lets out uninterrupted cries as his eyes roll back into his head at the euphoric feeling - both of the physical feeling, as well as the rush from Suguru’s sweet saccharine words. Suguru arches himself over, leaning down to press kisses along the back of Satoru’s shoulder blades. The lewd sound of skin slapping together, Suguru’s occasional grunts, and Satoru’s whimpers fill the hotel room. “That’s a good boy, let me hear you whimper.”

“Haa-hnng,” Satoru mewls out as Suguru’s relentless thrusts and never ending praises cloud his mind. “Mmh,” He hums as he looks over his shoulder with his brows knitted together and arching his back, desperate to feel his lips against Suguru’s. Their lips come together, Satoru letting moans escape into Suguru’s mouth and keeping his mouth open to allow his tongue to snake its way inside.

Suguru mutters quietly into Satoru’s mouth. “Can feel you squeezing me, baby. Can you cum for me, my handsome boy? Can you do that for me?” Suguru knows that Satoru’s close, feeling the way his walls twitch and squeeze around his cock at the sweet talk as he continues jackhammering his hips into him. He can feel his own orgasm about to tip over the edge as Satoru cries out, gripping back onto Suguru’s wrist tightly and digging his fingers into his skin as his climax rips through him.

“Yes! Yes! Yeah- mmmmh,” Satoru cries out, feeling a familiar warmth deep inside him with the twitch of Suguru’s cock as he himself cums onto the cushion beneath. He pushes back against him, wanting to feel it all.

“Fuck baby,” Suguru groans, resting his forehead against Satoru’s back as he rides out his orgasm, emptying himself into his husband. “You’re trying to kill me?” He asks as Satoru pushes his hips back, attempting to milk every drop from his cock.

Satoru can’t answer, just looking back over his shoulder with his face against the back of the chaise with a tired smile, his hair sticking to his forehead and his cheeks flushed pink. A thin sheen of sweat covers both of their bodies, skin sticking together as Suguru lifts his forehead from where he rests against Satoru’s back, leaving one last tender kiss as he does so.

“You okay, Roo?” Suguru coos, still breathing hard as he slowly pulls out, the mess of his cum leaking out of Satoru’s hole following behind. They both whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness and the loss of one another’s warmth.

Satoru smiles to himself at the nickname that they’d both started using for each other, breathing heavily with his cheek pressed against the fabric. He nods his head, the dopey smile on his face a testament to how hard Suguru had fucked him.

“Fucked you so stupid you can’t even talk, huh?” He teases, hurrying to the bathroom as to hopefully not make more of a mess than they already had.

“Mmhm.” Satoru hums, still with his hips and ass in his air and his face now down against the seat. His eyes are closed as he waits for the princess treatment that he knows is coming from Suguru when he hears the faucet to the bath turn on.

Suguru hurries back with a towel, wanting to clean up the mess on the seat before anything else. “You made a real mess, baby.” Suguru says as he does his best to wipe up the sticky puddle underneath Satoru. He hears a slight chuckle from Satoru as he heads back to the bathroom. “What’s so funny?” He asks as he tosses the towel on the bathroom floor and hurries back out to retrieve his husband.

“Nothin’.” He replies, the spent and worn-out smile still on his face as Suguru scoops him up into his arms. “Just happy that I’m married to the best man in the world.”

With a click of his tongue, Suguru shakes his head. “I really fucked you dumb this time, didn’t I?” He teases as he sets Satoru down next to the tub as they wait for it to continue filling with hot water. He runs his hand under the water, checking if he needs to adjust the temperature before throwing his hair up into a quick bun to keep his hair out of the way. He takes off his watch and sets it on the vanity next to where Satoru had set his, not wanting to get it wet. After adjusting the temperature slightly, he steps in, helping Satoru in as well.

“No, I think I’m of sound mind right now.” Satoru says, climbing over the edge of the tub and sinking down into the water in between Suguru’s legs with his back up against his chest. “I’m just thankful to have you as my husband.” He grabs Suguru’s hand from under the water and laces their fingers together before holding their hands against his chest for a moment.

The smile on Suguru’s face is soft as Satoru leans his head back against his shoulder. “I love you, Satoru.” Suguru coos in his ear, his voice just barely above a whisper. Satoru smiles as he looks out the window at the twinkling lights of the city just outside.

“I love you too, Sugu.” Satoru says, his voice just as quiet. They sit in silence for a moment, nothing but the sound of the rippling water as Satoru brings Suguru’s hand up to his lips to press his lips to the back of it. Suguru lets his fingers of his free hand trace over Satoru’s leg under the water as he presses tender kisses to the back of his shoulder. “Thank you for a great birthday.” He says, fidgeting with Suguru’s ring as he analyzes his hand.

“Of course, baby. You deserve it.” Suguru replies before they sit in silence for a little bit longer. He lets his eyes close for a moment as he leans his head back over the edge of the tub and looks up at the ceiling. “It’s not over yet, though. We have to head up there in probably about 20 minutes.” He says, having noted the time when they first got into the bath.

“Are you telling me we have to get out already?” Satoru asks, still mindlessly fidgeting with Suguru’s fingers on top of the water.

“Just a couple more minutes, but I need to brush out my hair and fix it up all nice.”

“I think it looks perfect just like this.” Satoru says, not even bothering to turn his head to be able to look at his husband.

“Roo, I can’t show up to a gourmet restaurant with my hair in a messy bun.” Suguru tries to reason with him, a soft chuckle coming from his chest and vibrating against Satoru’s back and causing ripples in the water.

“Says who? I think you look perfect.” Satoru shoots back, sitting forward and moving to sit on the other end of the tub so he can look at Suguru.

Suguru shakes his head with a faint smile on his face as he looks out the window. “Says me, Satoru.” Satoru furrows his brows and crosses his arms across his chest.

“What if I refuse to get out of the bath and just sit here all night?”

“Then I guess I’m going to dinner by myself.” Suguru says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Unnh!” Satoru cries out at his response, earning a laugh from Suguru that has the water rippling away from him. “You wouldn’t really leave me alone on my birthday, would you?”

“Baby, it wasn’t easy for me to get the reservation, I’m going with or without you.” He says, looking into Satoru’s eyes seriously with his warm honey ones. “And I think you’re really gonna like it anyway.”

“And then we can come back and eat cake, right?”

With a smile on his face, Suguru looks out the window once more before looking back at Satoru. “Yes baby, we can come back and eat cake.” Satoru smiles happily upon hearing his response, eager to try out the cake that he had picked out earlier in the day. After a couple more minutes of soaking, Suguru stands up and grabs a towel from the rack next to the tub and dries himself off before stepping out and wrapping it around his waist.

“You’re getting out already?” Satoru whines, looking up at him as he walks out of the bathroom to grab his bag.

“Satoru, we’re not going to be late for this.” He says as he’s grabbing his bathroom stuff from the bag out in the main room. Satoru is still laid out in the tub as he comes back into the bathroom with his small bag and his brush in his hand. He looks at Satoru as he’s spread out in the bath and stands at the edge, looking down at him for a moment, trying to keep a straight face. Satoru looks up at him for a moment with a cheeky smile on his face before he reaches out and swiftly yanks Suguru’s towel down off of his hips and onto the floor. Suguru doesn’t react and just shakes his head and leans over to pull the drain plug on the tub and tosses it over the edge, leaving it hanging from the chain.

“Hey!” Satoru shouts out with a laugh, a similar laugh coming from Suguru’s chest as he turns around to look at himself in the mirror. The sound of the water going down the drain is quickly overrun by the sound of Satoru standing up out of the water. He grabs a towel and dries off before stepping out next to Suguru who stands there, his towel left on the floor where Satoru pulled it off. Satoru presses a kiss to Suguru’s bare shoulder before heading out to grab his clothes for dinner.

“Can you grab mine too?” Suguru asks as he brushes out his hair, pulling half of it up into a bun and tying it off at the back of his head.

“Sugu?” Satoru asks as he brings both of their changes of clothes into the bathroom so that they can get changed for dinner.

“Yes, my love?” Suguru asks sweetly, turning to look at his husband with a smile.

“You mentioned earlier that you got me a birthday present…” Satoru says, looking at him with a sly smile.

“Yes?” Suguru urges him to continue. “What are you getting at?”

The smile on Satoru’s face is enough to signal to Suguru that he’s probably up to no good. “Do you think I could maybe open it now?”

“I said you could open it at dinner, Roo.” Suguru pulls his shirt on and starts buttoning it up.

“Yeahhh… But I thought that maybe you love me and would let me have it a little early.” Satoru tries to play to Suguru’s soft side as he does his best to get him to give him his present early.

Suguru has a smile on his face as he tucks his shirt into his pants and starts snaking his belt through the loops. “Baby, I do love you, but you’re not getting your present before we’re up there.”

Satoru lets out a huff as he gets dressed, his plan having failed. “I guess I’ll just have to wait.” He says dramatically, leaning his head on Suguru’s shoulder as he looks at him through the mirror.

“Yep.” Suguru curtly agrees with a nod, not playing along with his games.

With one more huff, Satoru crosses his arms and stands up with furrowed brows. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe with a slight smile on his face.

“I love you, Satoruuu.” Suguru says in a cheery voice, watching as his husband does a terrible job of pouting in the doorway.

Satoru can’t help himself but step into the bathroom once more and wrap his arms around Suguru’s waist from behind. He leans in and presses a soft kiss on the back of Suguru’s neck before whispering softly in his ear with a smile, “I love you too, Suguru.”

chapter 5

#satosugu #stsg #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #office au #4littlefishies #the eighth of september #the 36th floor #alternate universe #non jujutsu au #fluff #jjk smut #domestic fluff

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artiststarme · 2 years ago

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The Kids Grovel for Steve's Forgiveness

Part 3 of the "The Party Forgets Steve's Birthday" fic! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

There was something off with Steve and Eddie lately but Dustin couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. They’d both been distant for the past few weeks for unknown reasons. Steve hadn’t been answering any of the Party’s phone calls and he’d refused to drive any of them anywhere. The times he did interact with them, Eddie would swoop in and take him elsewhere. He was acting as a blockade of sorts, preventing any member of the Party besides himself from getting close to Steve. The last time any of the kids had spoken to him uninterrupted was weeks ago when Steve refused to let them rent a rated R movie and if anything, the kids should be mad at him, not the other way around.

Perhaps most concerning about the whole situation was how Eddie was postponing sessions for the campaign. He’d canceled Hellfire club two weeks in a row, an action he once called “blasphemous and unjust”. Everyone was really worried about his change of heart and Dustin was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Everything came to a head at Friday’s session, the first one in weeks that Eddie hadn’t tried to postpone. He was unnecessarily brutal at this session and was doing his darndest to kill everyone like some sort of fantasy nerd serial killer. The session was supposed to continue from where they were recuperating at an inn in a small village and all of the boys were looking forward to some light humor in these confusing times. What no one was expecting was for the evil gorgons and their tamed serpents to attack the town in an effort to kill their group in an act of revenge.

They were supposed to be having a fun time playing a campaign for DnD but Eddie seemed more malicious, more hostile than usual. Only two hours in and half the Party was dead, the rest low on hit points, right on the verge of death.

“Okay, what the hell?” Dustin shouted as Gary the Great turned to stone after being caught in a fire and cornered by a gorgon.

“What?” Eddie asked him, his expression a careful mask of neutrality.

“What’s your problem? We ended the last session safe at an inn, what the hell is this?” The other guys nodded their agreement with his outburst. No one was expecting to get their favorite characters murdered so ruthlessly, at least not so soon in the session.

“The inn burned down and the town is under attack by merciless gorgons. That’s not my fault,” Eddie told them all.

“Yes it is, you literally wrote this! This session was supposed to last ten hours. We’re two hours in and most of us are dead! Why are you doing this?” Dustin’s voice was embarrassingly shrill but it got his point across just fine.

“It’s not my fault your strategy sucks, Henderson! Maybe you should try a little harder to stay alive!” Eddie yelled back.

Will piped up then, “we should ask Steve for help, he’s good at strategy!”

“You will not! Do not bother Steve,” Eddie pointed at him.

“Why are you being so neurotic today? And why are you gatekeeping Steve? We want answers!” Dustin yelled again. The other kids voiced their agreement as well.

They heard a crash in the Munson kitchen and everyone jerked to look at Lucas standing in the doorway. He held up a small Polaroid picture dated from a few weeks ago with a small ‘Happy Birthday, Stevie-poo! I love you’ written in the corner. “What is this?”

Mike scoffed, “who cares about Steve right now? I want to know why Eddie’s been so weird lately.”

His comment must’ve thrown Eddie over the edge because he jumped up from his seat and started screaming at them. “You fuckers forgot his birthday! Steve’s been your friend for at least three years and you’ve never even done as much as tell him happy birthday! So now he’s hurt because he doesn't think you guys care and I think you’re all jackasses that shouldn’t get to be around him anyways! Nice going assholes, you pissed us both off.”

Jeff, Grant, and Gareth looked around the room before standing up from their spots on the couch. Jeff awkwardly clapped his hands and started moving towards the door. “Well guys, there seems to be some friction today so we’re just going to head out for now. We should probably just pick this up next week, that way we have plenty of time to make new characters.”

Eddie nodded at him before sneering at the rest of the Party. “That’s a good idea, Jeff. The rest of you can get the hell out.”

Then he dramatically whirled around and stormed into his room, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Jeff, Grant, and Gareth shook their heads at the kids before leaving, which left Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will to consider the gravity of what they’d done. None of them had ever even thought about Steve’s birthday, it had never come up in conversation and they’d never noticed a lack of celebration. Dustin felt particularly guilty as he picked up the DnD table in the Munson living room. Steve was practically his brother, he of all people should’ve known his birthday.

Nearly twenty minutes later, they heard the bedroom door down the hallway open and paused in their ministrations. Eddie was either coming out to apologize to them or to yell at them some more and while they were all nervous, they were prepared for either option. They deserved it. But to their utter shock, it wasn’t Eddie that came out. No, instead it was a sleep-rumpled Steve, shirtless, with glasses on and his usually immaculate hair in disarray.

He squinted his eyes at them in confusion before making a double take. “What the- what are you guys still doing here?”

“Steve! What are you doing in Eddie’s room and why are you shirtless?” Lucas asked him.

“Uh, I was taking a nap.”

“In Eddie’s bed? Why wouldn’t you just sleep at your own house?” Mike sneered at him.

“What’s with the interrogation?! Stop asking questions you don’t want the answers to and let me live!” Steve yelled at them.

So Steve was still mad. But now, Dustin understood why. “Steve, we’re so sorry! We didn’t know it was your birthday so we know why you’re mad and we don’t blame you. But-”

“Dustin, I’m not mad, I’m disappointed,” he said. Oh shit, that was worse! “But it’s fine. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, that’s on me.”

“Steve, we should’ve done something and we’re sorry. You’re one of our best friends and we’ll do better,” Lucas told him. He patted his bare shoulder to emphasize his point.

Mike nodded at his words but said nothing in further agreement. Dustin felt awful. After everything Steve had done for them, they’d forgotten his birthday. And then he had the nerve to say it was his fault?! What was wrong with this guy?

“Steve, you didn’t deserve that. We’ll make it up to you somehow. We’ll wash your car and bring you lunch when you work, and we’ll never forget another one of your birthdays, we promise.” He promised him earnestly.

Steve pulled him into a hug and messed up his hair despite his squawk of outrage. “I forgive you guys. Really, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years so it’s fine.”

“You will not forgive them!” Eddie stormed down the hallway to pull Dustin out of Steve’s embrace. He wrapped his own arms around his… Steve, and pointed an accusing finger at them. “He’s not just going to drop his hurt feelings to make you assholes feel better. You bitches better grovel if you want Steve and I to forgive you. Now scram, why are you still here?”

~*~*~*~

For the next two weeks, the kids made it their mission to prove to Steve how much he meant to them. Eddie told them to grovel and grovel they did.

Dustin brought him a homemade lunch from his mom to Family Video every shift he worked. He cleaned his car (technically he just bribed Nancy to drive it through the car wash but still, the thought was there). And he taught him how to play DnD so he could join the next campaign with his own character.

Lucas went over to the Harrington house to clean the pool every week and mowed the lawn while he was over there. Steve looked shocked when he came home to that but Lucas was reasonably sure he was happy. He also played basketball with him at the park and listened to all of Steve’s mostly helpful tips.

Mike just eased up on the glaring and brought him a Slurpee once. He also made sure to take his anger out on Nancy instead of Steve as he usually did.

When they told Robin shortly after their odd interaction at Eddie’s, she was horrified. She immediately ditched Vickie to devote all of her time and best friend-ness to Steve as she should’ve done in the first place. She bought him dinner, stole movies to watch at movie nights with him, and bit her tongue when she saw Eddie kiss him in front of her. She would be the best friend she should’ve been initially and wait for Steve to come to her (which he did a few hours later).

Needless to say, Steve was freaked out for a good month. People were being too nice to him and it was like he slipped into a parallel universe. Everything looked the same and the rest of the town seemed the same but his friends couldn’t be more different. After multiple panic attacks and burnouts, Eddie told the Party to ease up or deal with the consequences.

What finally got things back to normal was Hopper organizing and hosting a belated birthday celebration at the Hopper-Byers’ house. All of his friends came together to celebrate him turning 20. Eddie obtained another cake from the bakery and decorated it himself, as per usual. This time, he had more room and was able to write a grotesque “BIRTH STEVE, Another year gone”. The adults of the Party were of course horrified at the dripping red frosting of the lettering and the spattering of rainbow sprinkles but Steve had never felt so touched.

The Party sang him happy birthday in a myriad of too-flat notes and screeches but it was special nonetheless. Especially when Hopper threw an arm around Steve’s shoulder to tell him that it would happen every year. And from that point forward, it did.

The End

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#Eddie stays mad for months and whenever one of the kids tries to backtalk he brings this up #“oh yeah what are you going to do? Forget my birthday? Yeah you're doing that again huh?”#every year the birthday cake gets creepier #stranger things #steddie #steddie ish #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #chief hopper #robin buckley #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler

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