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ryoshiwaah · 2 months ago

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⸝ ⸝The Love List ୭ ˚.

ʚ🌷Warnings: swear words, slight angst, spelling mistakes bc I wrote this in different days, misunderstandings, making out? idk what i wrote, established relationship.

ʚ💌Genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers!

ʚ Pairing: non-idol!Haerin x fem!reader

ʚ Synopsis: Haerin made a list of dates ideas after thinking you were bored of her.

ʚ🎀Starring: Bbangsaz as your gay friends & Banggeul (Haerin's dog)

ʚ w.c: 6.4k

ʚ tags: @chokili, @jaikoyaki

ʚ🧺a/n: This was supposed to be a Valentine's special but I got too caught up in the idea and didn't make it in time, plus, I made it for choki (and jai). It's rushed at the end so pretend to be blind!!

Haerin didn’t like going out, unlike you, her day was peacefully spent studying, watching a movie or eating junk food. Since she started dating you her life changed for the better – you were a breath of fresh air: spontaneous, energetic and determined to try something new at least once a month.

Keeping up with your life was not easy for her, but Haerin put a lot of effort into being a good and supportive girlfriend. Though, she still felt like something was off, especially during your dates.

Even a blind person could see that lounging on the couch wasn’t your favorite thing in the world – Haerin noticed your sighs or how your eyes would slowly close during a movie night. if at first she thought you were just tired, the constant yawning and silence from your part didn’t sit right with her.

The situation had to end, so she spent a whole day to fulfill one of your biggest dreams.

You mentioned it a few months prior while taking a walk with her and Banggeul (her dog), it was something along the lines of – “I want to write a bucket list about dates ideas, but in alphabetical order.”

Sure, your suggestion was just… well, a suggestion. A little test to get a reaction out of your girlfriend – “If you want to…”

Which resulted in failure.

To you, because your girlfriend’s cat brain started running and after hours of thinking and screaming internally and regretting every life decision, she finally made the list.

“Here.” Weeks later she offered you a little envelope, it was pink and had some heart stickers on it. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, firstly looking at your girlfriend, who was avoiding eye contact, her ears red, and then at the piece of paper.

Careful not to rip it, you opened the letter and found a folded piece of striped paper, it looked like a bucket list from what you could see; your doubts became a happy reality when you unfolded the paper to reveal the list Haerin wrote.

“Babe, this is…”

Your voice died in your throat from the surprise. She remembered? – You felt your cheeks growing hotter, a red tint spreading across your entire face.

“You don’t like it?” – “I used the glitter pen you like for the hearts, I tho-”

To interrupt her worried rant was your hug, that she quickly returned, a somewhat pleased smile making its way on her lips “I take this as a yes then.”

“I love it!” You exclaimed with an enthusiastic expression – “But did you write… where is it- Oh! here.”

You turned the paper towards her, pointing to the letter W, in response she tilted her head.

“Whalemart?” She asked in confusion as if you were the one who wrote the letter.

“Did you misspell Walmart?” You laughed, quickly taking a picture of the mistake, Haerin, noticing your action, tried to snatch your phone but you pulled away just in time.

“Ha! You wished you could be as fast as me, Kang Haerin.”

She gave you a glare that she kept for 5 seconds before bursting into laughter — “You’re so childish.”

◻ A - Arcade

It was a Sunday afternoon when your girlfriend dragged you out of the house and into the car, she didn’t give you a chance to go back inside and change so your fate was sealed: you got out of the house with the most childish shoes you’ve ever worn, a pair of bright yellow crocs that made a cartoon-like sound after every step.

Begging didn’t work, Haerin was firm on taking you out – “You look cute.” She said, eyes on the road as she drove to the nearest arcade.

“I look like a duck.” You retorted with a grumble, crossing your arms while staring at the reason for your shame. “Why are they so bright!!” You whined, hitting your feet on the car mat, making your girlfriend giggle.

“A cute duck throwing a tantrum, that’s new.”

“You’re lucky we’ve arrived–”

“It’s going to be fine, nobody will notice your adorable shoes, ducky.”

Your head snapped to the side as you gave Haerin a death glare, daring her to repeat what she just said.

“Is there something on my face?” She asked innocently, almost too much. You felt mocked but before you could speak, your girlfriend gave you a peck on the lips; soon enough, the anger died down while you melted into a puddle.

“Idiot.” You muttered before getting out of the car and basically running towards the arcade.

——👾

The bright neon colours made your eyes squint for a few seconds, you interlocked your fingers with Haerin’s after she finally caught up to you.

“You’re fast.” she panted, already feeling tired after the small run — “And you’re not athletic at all.”

“We’re not here for that, come on.” she ignored the comment, tugging on your hand to lead you inside.

The atmosphere of the arcade was something you’ve never seen before, for example, hanging from the ceilings were little ghosts from the Pac-Man game making you smile as you pointed at a green and pink near each other.

“Babe look! That’s us as pixel ghosts!”

Your infectious smile and overall your joyous tone, made a few head turns.

“I’m the green one?” She asked now looking up at the silly decorations too.

“Of course, you love green.”

“Yeah but-” She started, a mischievous glint making its way in her eyes — “today you look more like Pac-Man.” Haerin smirked, pointing to your bright yellow shoes.

You stood there for a moment, conflicted, as you considered two things: laughing at your girlfriend’s mean joke or wiping away that stupid and adorable expression with a punch.

You opted for none of the two because Haerin kissed your cheek, mumbling an apology — she also bought you a pack of candy shortly after.

——👾

“Please please please!”

You were currently clinging to Haerin’s arm, pulling her towards one of the claw machines she refused to play to since they were a “money stealing technique”.

All your attempts at convincing her weren’t working, bringing her food, kisses, compliments – Nothing. So you decided to use your last ace up your sleeve: attention.

“Don’t raise your voice, people will look.” Her tone was serious, an underlying hint of worry in it.

Bingo.

“Then win me something at the claw machine.”

She stared at you, watching as your puppy eyes grew more and more adorable, it was infuriating how she could be weakened by them.

After she exhaled a deep sigh, you knew you won her acceptance and basically sprinted towards the machine, your shoes making funny sounds in the process.

Did Haerin regret bringing you to the arcade? Absolutely not.

She was loving every second of it, not missing for a second the way your eyes lit up after she won you that cat plushie you were eyeing moments before, or how you went silent the moment you started focusing on the pac-man game, sticking out your tongue and then groaning as you lost after the second round.

That day you tried every game at the arcade, winning tickets over tickets just to take home a little fish tank that seemed empty. You like the aesthetic and Haerin like seeing you happy with it.

A win is a win.

You discovered hours later that the tank was actually not so empty, a little goldfish lived there. He was named Ducky, the same nickname your girlfriend had given you earlier.

◻ B - Breakfast in bed

Since the last date went smoother than oil, Haerin decided to keep following the list and bring you breakfast in bed.

First thing first, to complete her mission she had to silently wake up. Easy. She was naturally quiet. Though, her dog wasn’t.

Haerin was more worried about waking up Banggeul than you, but once she reached the safe zone, also known as the kitchen, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

She leaned against the counter to search for breakfast inspiration on the internet, but when it was clear that all the dishes were too complicated, she opted for a classic: pancakes.

She took out the few ingredients needed and started to do the batter, careful not to make too much noise – Her heart almost stopped when she knocked over a cup, but thank god it fell on the carpet that silenced any further sound.

Haerin hummed a tune while waiting for the food to cook, she looked at you from outside the bedroom, sprawled on the bed, snoring and mumbling something under your breath.

‘I love her…’ Haerin thought, smiling to herself.

The oven turning off brought her back to reality and she forced herself to look away.

——🥞

Twenty minutes later, you opened your eyes to the smell of pancakes and the sound of your girlfriend’s soft voice. “Sleepyhead wake up, I brought you breakfast.”

You rubbed your eyes, groggily sitting up – “Hm… What?” your voice was low as you recovered from your sleepy state.

“I said I brought you breakfast in bed.”

A small sigh left your lips as you looked at your girlfriend with a fond, thankful smile.

“Rinnie… I love you so much, thank you.”

The trail was placed on your lap, while Haerin kissed your forehead, mumbling something about you being cute. When you saw her walking out of the room, you called her – “Babe! Are you leaving me to eat these all alone?”

Okay, she didn't think about herself at all. Shit.

“Those are your pancakes.” She muttered, fidgeting with the strings of her hoodie.

“And you’re my girlfriend, so get your ass over here and eat with me.”

Haerin did, she practically jumped on the bed and snuggled up to your side demanding to be fed, which you did.

Nonetheless, the next day you cooked breakfast for her and almost burned down the apartment.

◻ C - (Cat) Café date☕️

Having two pets wasn’t enough, you wanted a cat, a real one. Despite Haerin being against it (for obvious reasons), she followed you to the cat café you had chosen to adopt a kitty.

As you entered, the smell of cookies and fluffiness became noticeable in your nostrils, making you feel cozy and more excited to see your future son or daughter.

Haerin’s eyes wandered around the place catching a glimpse of the kitties that roamed around the little café: they looked so tiny, almost like little balls of fur. She would be lying if she said she didn’t want to adopt them all.

One of the cuties went near Haerin’s foot, trying to climb on her shoe — she noticed him once the little guy meowed, it was more like a soft sound than anything but yeah, he was complaining.

His yellow eyes and black fur weren’t what captivated the girl’s and other customer’s eyes, but a small patch of white hair that made him look like an adorable work of art. It was like a painter dragged his brush on the kitten’s back, drawing what looked like a heart.

The girl crouched down gently lifting him up, holding the fur ball in her hands. At that very moment, you finished ordering your coffee and cookies so the cashier turned to Haerin, smiling when she saw your girlfriend holding the kitten.

“And for you miss?” The worker, a lady in her twenties, asked with a soothing tone.

Haerin stared at the woman for a few seconds, then looked down at the kitty and then back at her.

“I want this one.”

——☕️

Meow, that’s how your girlfriend decided to name the kitty, spent the rest of the date with the two of you, mostly on Haerin’s lap, purring and getting cuddles.

He was the total opposite of the puppy waiting for you at home.

Concentrating was hard mostly because you couldn’t stop admiring the beauty in front of you — often, Haerin would look up to find your gaze already on her.

“Focus.” She then proceeded to mutter, writing in her notebook numbers that didn’t make sense anymore.

“I’m focused.” Your eyes were still on her.

“I mean on the homework, dummy.”

Again with the nicknames, this girl called you anything except Y/n. She seemed to have grown bolder day by day.

You took a sip of your coffee, which by the way was delicious, and returned to write in your own notebook. “Hey, what’s the answer for number six?” — “x= 5/3.”

A huff left your lips as you slouched back on the chair, head tilting back to look as dramatic as possible; Haerin remained unfazed by the familiar display.

“I got it wrong again.”

Your girlfriend finally looked up at you and suddenly had an idea: she took Meow in her arms and stood up to place the kitten on your lap.

“He can help you focus.”

She sat back down with a proud smirk playing on her face. Haerin got like that every time she felt like a great partner — how she loved knowing her actions made you feel better or simplified your situation.

“Thanks, I can already feel the motivation coming back.”

You joked, letting the kitten for the first time that day. “He’s really soft.” Your eyes were wide in surprise, your voice a little too loud for the poor Meow who let out another complaining noise.

“Ah- sorry buddy…” You patted his head “…go back to sleep.”

——☕️

Once the three of you came back home, Banggeul started sniffing your legs like crazy, sometimes barking as if demanding explanations.

Like, why would you two go to a place full of cats? Millions of animals in the world and you chose cats. Traitors.

Haerin had to calm him down while you reassured her, as best as you could, that Meow would be safe if she just gave both cat and dog time to get used to living with each other.

In fact, you were right.

During the first week Banggeul and Meow slept in the same spot at the end of your bed and played together without any problems — except when they knocked over a vase, or when the doggo stole the kitten’s food or again, when Meow tripped in Ducky’s tank.

Those were hard times.

“I never imagined we’d be having a family like this.” You whispered one night while being snuggled up against your girlfriend, one of her hands playing with your hair — “I did, many times.” She admitted, burying her face into your soft locks. “That’s how much I love you…and maybe even more.”

◻ D - Double dates

“Hanni and Minji are already there, hurry up!”

Haerin’s voice rang in the bedroom from the depths of the other side of your apartment startling not only you, but also the puppy, who started to bark and run around uncontrollably.

He was way too energetic, even at times, when he got 5 minutes of sleep — unlike Haerin, his social battery was constantly full and needed little to no recharges.

“Here we go again…” You muttered, returning to fix your smudged lipstick, mentally smirking at the sight you would be soon witnessing.

“Ugh! Please Banggeul stop-”

Of course Haerin didn’t want to deal with yet another noise complaint so she gave up in trying to calm him down and gave the puppy a dog treat — they made his breath smell like he had just eaten a corpse, but at least they did the job she was failing at: making him quiet down.

“Are you ready?”

Your girlfriend’s head popped out from the doorframe, her right hand covering her eyes just in case you were naked or something — it was adorable how she was still so shy even after being together for almost a year.

“Yes, yes love.”

She stayed there, her hand glued to her eyes until you moved it away, causing a squeal to escape from Haerin’s lips. “You can look, I’m all dressed up.” — her eyes briefly looked at you before she completely turned red.

“Hm hm I know.” An awkward laugh resonating in the small space left between the two of you — “Pretty…” You muttered, towering over her, heels were indeed a good choice.

With the height by your side it was easy to steal a kiss from Haerin, but if one wasn’t enough, two were too much from you to keep your lips away from hers — You were already late, so who cares?

Minji and Hanni, they cared. So much that your phone started buzzing a few moments after your third? maybe fourth kiss — Annoyed, you grabbed the device, backed up from Haerin and answered the call.

“What?” Your tone reflected your annoyance, but at that moment it wasn’t important — “Yah don’t get all pissy with me, Y/n. Hurry up or we’re ordering.”

Hanni’s naturally high voice made you roll your eyes, but to calm you down was your girlfriend, who took the phone and talked.

“We’re going to be there in five, Han.” She quickly retorted before hanging up.

Her face was a mix of embarrassment and frustration. Being interrupted was the last thing she desired that night, the first one you can imagine.

——🔗

In the end you managed to arrive at the fancy restaurant and eat the food the other couple had previously ordered since they were starving, Hanni blamed you and your detailed make-up, while Minji just winked at Haerin, making her want to sink to the floor and never get out.

The date was going smoothly, raising Haerin’s initial mood about the hangout: being the shy girl she is made it difficult for her to enter in the conversation without resulting awkward or weird — even with her own friends.

But your presence made it all better.

Haerin held your hand under the wooden table, her thumb caressing the back of your hand; she gently squeezed your fingers in her palm from time to time, making sure you were still there, by her side.

Whenever it was your turn to talk she would stare at you through her lashes, her eyes trying to memorise every little movement your facial muscles did — ‘She’s so gorgeous.’ Her brain could only process compliments that she silently concentrated into her love struck gaze.

‘She’s whipped.’

Minji mentally said, looking at Haerin with a teasing but fond smile. It was rare seeing Haerin so invested in a conversation, so she kept silent and rested her head on Hanni’s shoulder, listening to whatever you two were ranting about.

——🔗

Coming back to a dark apartment were you and Haerin right after the double date.

When you finished eating, Minji suggested grabbing a drink or two at a bar near the restaurant. The place opened 3 weeks before and many said customer service was great, so why not?

If only Haerin knew she’d be carrying your drunk ass into the house, the heels you previously wore, in her hands, she would’ve refused.

“Haerinnie! You’re so strong~”

The slurred, flirty words, brought a strong feeling of embarrassment to your girlfriend; she ignored them and you, switching the lights on with her elbow, almost dropping you in the process.

Scared, your arms wrapped around her, eyes shutting instantly – “Am I alive?!”

“Yes, scaredy cat. The drinks are really messing with your brain if you thought I’d let you fall.”

You giggled, tilting your head up to kiss her soft cheek – Your thumb caressed the spot you had just kissed, or better, marked with your red lipstick. The movement only smudged it more, but instead of stopping, you made sure Haerin’s cheek became more red.

“You’re impossible.”

Half exhausted and half amused by your childish behaviour, she managed to get you to bed. Her plan was to change into something more comfortable and then cuddle you to sleep, but alcohol blurred your train of thoughts — next thing she knew, you pulled Haerin down on the bed.

“Goodnight!”

Haerin squirms in your arms, trying to free herself, but your grip is too tight – it gets worse when your legs wrap around her body like a snake that had caught its prey.

Your girlfriend eventually gives up at the first snore that comes out of your mouth, her body finally relaxing and basking in the comfort and warmth of your embrace.

“Goodnight, love.” She whispered, eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep.

◻ E - Escape Room

“I found it!”

“Finally–”

“Shut up, I told you it was under the damned rug.”

You held a blue key, the one you had searched for during the past 10 minutes, in your hand like it was the most expensive treasure ever. You suddenly raised the object in the air, causing a ‘swoosh’ sound to add coolness to your action.

“This key will give me the power to open that door!”

Your voice was loud and your tone demonstrated how determined you were about this whole thing, a finger pointing dramatically at the white, wooden door in the middle of one of the four walls.

Haerin could only do a side eye, laughing softly when you cringed at yourself.

“Cool, open the door then.”

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m trying to be cool.”

“You’re as cool as a duck with sunglasses, darling.”

“Weirdo. But thank you, I appreciate the compliment. Ducks with sunglasses are dope.”

The funny banter between you and your girlfriend was making each member of the staff laugh like an idiot. If you thought of something, Haerin did the opposite – If you were right, she was also right.

Confusing, yes, just like the puzzle that presented itself to you two once you managed to open the door and find yet another one of those walls with nothing on it.

“Again?!”

You yelled in frustration while Haerin cursed under her breath, sitting down on one of the chairs in the room.

You looked around trying to find a combination, an alleged missing piece or a gear— anything that would be useful.

“Last time it was a lever, remember? You pulled it down and the wall lowered.”

“I don’t see a lever anywhere.” The seated girl answered, her gaze focusing on nothing in particular.

She sneaked a peak or two at you, only to look back when she remembered she had to help too.

The escape room was lasting way too long for her liking, she was hungry and her brain was way too tired to let her be smart. Then, like a surge of intelligence, she squinted her eyes while looking at a painting on top of the geared door.

Getting up, she walked to it, staring at the red, blinking dot. She glanced at you, who was moving furniture around, searching for a clue to unlock the door — Turning back to the painting, she decided to move it away from the wall.

Haerin eyes locked with the camera hidden behind the framed art, she remained indifferent at the sight since the staff made it clear: surveillance cameras would be scattered across the rooms to make sure no one got hurt or forgotten.

Bored, she decided to mess with the staff who were probably watching. Her face got so close to the lens that her lashes touched the curved glass. She blinked before intensely stare at it — “Hello…” Haerin whispered.

“My girlfriend wants to go to the other room. Lower the wall.”

No response came from the other side, she glanced at the concrete blocking the way but it didn’t budge, not even a little bit.

“Hmm.”

her gaze shifted back to the camera but this time she stayed like that for more than just a few seconds – Her eyes were almost unblinking like a demon or something outworldly, enough to put pressure on the staff watching.

“We should comply, this girl might curse us.” One said, not daring to even glance at the monitor where Haerin’s face was the main topic.

“The point of an escape room is to escape, Dylan. Don’t be a pussy, she’ll go away.” The other replied, not admitting that the sight on the top left monitor was disturbing – Haerin remained there, making you wonder if she had gone crazy or if she was trying to help.

“She’s not moving, bro.”

“...”

“What if she’s actually going to curse us?”

“Dylan, we’re in a fucking surveillance room, and it’s not like the camera has our names on it. She can’t hear or see us either so calm do–”

“I lowered the wall.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

—— 🗝️

The wall lowering and letting you pass wasn’t part of the game and you were aware of it. Haerin did something for sure, and it had to do with whatever she was looking at moments prior.

You followed her on the other side of the opened door, clutching her sleeve when the bright lights turned off due to the lightbulb falling to the ground right in front of you.

“Huh? Is this part of the game?”

The question hung in the air, Haerin reached for her phone and turned on the flashlight – “I think so, the terms talked about falling objects, but I didn’t think they were referring to glass ob–”

She interrupted herself, pointing the bright light firstly to your face, then down to your body. “The glass didn’t reach you, right?” A protective hand caressed your face before moving it left and right, Haerin was still making sure you weren’t hurt – “Haerin I’m fine, the glass was two kilometers away.” Even though she didn’t appreciate the sarcastic tone, your girlfriend nodded and muttered a small “Alright.”

For the next 23 minutes you searched for clues in the dimly lit room, bumping into each other so many times that you lost count.

To snap you back from your little world made of keys and clues, was Haerin and her hand on your shoulder, which also scared you and caused you to hit her hand with your phone.

“Ow! It’s me-” – “Get the fuck away!!” You screamed in terror at the alleged monster.

Your right arm, the one with the phone, swung in front of you like crazy – “Y/n it’s me.”

And just like they started, the screaming stopped and you finally looked up, pointing the flashlight to none other than your girlfriend.

“Yeah, I- I know…” You stood up from your crouched position, sweeping the dust away from your shoulder.

“I found a button.” Haerin explained, leading you there by taking your hand. “I think it’s the last room, so let’s press it together.”

God, this girl was so sweet you might get cavities, she thought about everything, even the smallest thing. Haerin made you feel seen and taken care of — that reminded you of why you were here.

The list she had made for you to make sure you were having fun while hanging out with her.

That was the moment you realised how much Haerin really changed from the first time you two met: a casual encounter at the park, you were in kindergarten and yet she was the only one to do everything alone.

Each one of your classmates were either freaked out or forgot about her presence, and since the teacher was too occupied with her work to deal with the situation, she ignored it.

After being left out by every person she encountered, Haerin was skeptical when you asked her to be friends. In fact, her first words she ever said to you were, “No. Leave me alone.”

You didn’t give up!

Thanks to your bribing techniques you were able to conquer Haerin’s trust and love — buying her avocado ice cream for 2 weeks straight paid off.

Since then, you swore to never leave her side and this far, you two stuck together like glue.

But how did Haerin change? Well, she started trying. The thing is, she was scared of doing many things, even asking you out on a date, that’s why she opted to stay in and binge watch a series on Netflix.

Her shyness and social anxiety, in other people’s eyes, often resulted in lack of trying, but deep down she wanted to try, so hard. And then you understood the real meaning behind the list: Haerin didn’t want to lose you.

—— 🗝️

In the end, she pressed the button making one of the libraries in the room move to the side, revealing an open passage. The lights turned on again, they were artificial ones and had a white aura, like the ones at hospitals.

Without a second thought, both you and your girlfriend made your way there, ending the escape room once and for all.

Of course you were polite enough to wave and thank all the staff members, even though two of them were looking at Haerin as if she was crazy – The usual.

After you were out of the building, walking down the busy streets of Seoul, you guys decided on two things: first, never go back to an escape room, second, go get some ice cream.

“I want…” Haerin begun – “Avocado ice cream?” You continued, like you’ve already heard it before which you did.

“Yeah, avocado ice cream.”

◻ F - Flower crown

In a field of flowers colored in every shade of pink, white and red were two girls laying next to each other. Those girls were you and Haerin.

You have to admit that the possibility of coming across a bee or two scared you, but your girlfriend swore to protect you at all costs and so you accepted.

The place was silent except for the birds that randomly flew by, the flapping of their wings made some feathers slowly fall to the ground – same with the tree you guys were under, its green leaves following a path down the branches to the grass.

Haerin was leaning against the tree enjoying the activity of today’s date: making flower crowns for each other.

Before arriving at the secluded spot you took a walk in the colorful field, taking pictures and smelling the beautiful plants grown over the past years – or decades.

Your love for nature was one of the few things you and your girlfriend had in common, it was able to fuse calmness and wildness. That’s why you’d always opted for a picnic whenever you had the chance to choose.

Technology was the last thing you cared about, in fact, your phones were previously confiscated by the owner of the field, Haerin’s grandpa, and stored inside a box. You trusted him not to lose them.

Without the devices, your walk had begun, sometimes you would hold hands, while others, staying next to each other was enough.

You felt the grass under your shoes as you walked by, the soft texture made it all better – your girlfriend walked on the path made of those big dark grey rocks, the smooth surface was stable and perfect for Haerin’s liking.

You were always so different but so similar.

During the walk, you came across a low brick wall so you glanced at her, catching her eyes already looking at you.

Haerin held your hand while you climbed on the new plaything you had found; she didn’t let go until you had your feet back down on the grass, hopping off the ‘obstacle’ with a huff.

“I can’t wait to put flowers in your hair.”

You happily announced, making your intentions clear in case Haerin wanted to back down. Of course that wasn’t happening, she wouldn’t purposely choose to stay away from you. Her girlfriend. Her lover. Her everything.

“Which ones?”

Her fingers interlocked with yours, now sure you won’t climb on anything else – “I was thinking about daisies, but there are some pink flowers that would suit you too.”

“You can always do the flower crown with the pink ones and put daisies in my hair.”

The words were spoken with so much nonchalance you had to double check if that was really your Haerin.

“Really?” – “What if your hair gets tangled?”

“Then I’ll use a brush.”

A gentle, reassuring squeeze of her hand and your ‘what ifs’ stopped overwhelming you, leaving your mind at peace.

Since when was she so compliant? Usually she would make a fuss about her hair, not wanting them to be touched by anyone or anything.

But there she was, telling you that you can put flowers in it.

Your heart swelled with affection… no, it was different.

You were quite sure the intense feeling that was making your heart beat faster, was in fact, the L word.

Lesbianism? Nope, love.

——🌺

Back to the present, your hands were picking pink flowers from the basket next to you, sorting them by color, or better, shade.

The petals leave a pinkish hue on the end of your fingers, almost as if you had dipped them in paint.

Haerin was doing the same thing but with multiple flowers, some were pink, others yellow and red.

You pointed out how she had chosen only primary colors, she smiled, saying it was because you were the primary reason for her happiness.

Smooth bastard.

The lack of words spoken, made the activity continue in silence. A comfortable one that none of you dared to break.

Minutes passed with the two of you sitting together, weaving stems of flowers on top of each other and enjoying the peaceful date.

It wasn’t until minutes later, maybe an hour, that something was placed on your head, it was delicate, you barely felt the weight of it – “I’m done, love.” Haerin said in a soft tone, adjusting the flower crown on your head.

“Let me see-” You took out your phone, opening the front camera and staring at yourself.

One, then two minutes passed with your wide eyes and surprised expression. Your girlfriend smiled and rested her chin on your shoulder while her arms wrapped around your waist, gently stroking your sides – “You look like a goddess.”

The phone nearly fell from your hand at the words, so you just lowered your arms and let out an embarrassed whine, hiding yourself against Haerin’s body – She let you have your exaggerated reaction, holding the flower crown just in case: if it fell apart, it meant she wouldn’t be able to see you like that again.

She soothed you, leaving kisses at the top of your head until you calmed down – “Too much?” Her tone was teasing – she knew it was too much, the praise, the moment and her gentleness oh God-

“No, no… I’m okay.”

You took a deep breath through your nose and then exhaled from your mouth.

The flower crown was placed back on your head, Haerin smiled again. “Where’s mine?” She inquired, looking down at the scattered petals next to your legs.

“About that…” Your expression became apologetic – “I kind of messed up the flowers.”

As your body moved to the side, letting her see the display, she widened her eyes: the red and white polka blanket looked more like a cemetery of flowers; the petals she saw before seemed to have duplicated, laying on the fabric, some were still attached to the almost naked stems.

“They fell apart in my hand, I’m sorry–”

Sadness and shame was obvious in the way you talked and lowered your head, but Haerin didn’t mind the mess at all. If anything, she found it cute and on theme with the whole earthy atmosphere.

“It’s alright, they’re flowers. You still have the daisies to put in my hair.”

Her words brightened the mood and you quickly reached for the basket where you stored flowers. Your head was still adorned by the crown so it was fair to have hers decorated too.

——🌺

Your walk back to the house began once the sun started to set, the lights from the little lanterns placed on the path made it easy not to get lost – As if you and your girlfriend didn’t know the place like the back of your hand already.

Haerin stopped all of a sudden, scribbling something on a piece of paper: the list.

And right then and there, while she had the pen cap in her mouth, you took your chance and snatched the notebook from her hands causing the pen to ruin the paper a little, a long red line drew in the center of the page – “Y/N!”

The loud voice of the usually quiet girl echoed in the woods before silence fell.

“Why– What the-”

She was actually speechless, words didn’t come out even if she wanted to yell, she just couldn’t.

“Sorry, but if you want to follow a list to make me happy, then I won’t let you. Hae, I love you and I love spending time with you, even if it’s a movie night on your couch.”

Her eyes softened at the words, but her gaze was still upset, guilty. She was feeling stupid for trying too hard.

“I–”

“Wait, let me finish.” – “I know you think I don’t have fun with you, that we’re different and all that – but that’s the reason why this relationship is so important to me, romantically and–”

“I don’t want to lose you. I- Every sigh, every huff you made during our hangouts, they felt like a dagger to my heart. We used to have fun together, I love hearing you laugh and… I… I just– Sorry.”

During her rant, Haerin didn’t realize how closer you got so she actually jumped once your hands touched her cheeks.

“Hae, I liked our stationary and ‘boring’ dates. I feel so relaxed around you that I can’t help but fall asleep. At the same time, we can choose to do something else… baking cookies, playing games. It doesn’t have to do with going out, I don’t want to force you to do things just because you want to make me happy.”

“Okay, I get it… I’ll try, I promise.”

Still feeling the tension between the two of you, and the guilt in Haerin’s tone, you smiled and leaned in to kiss her on the lips. it was soft and pure, but when you pulled back, your girlfriend had a visible red tint on her cheeks.

“I know, but the bare minimum is enough. You’re enough for me, so don’t stress too much.”

After another gentle and loving kiss, you two started to walk back towards the house. Haerin’s head was lost in your previous words – She was enough.

A new sensation started to flood her heart. For the first time in her life Haerin knew she was free, free to be herself without any expectations; free to be uncomfortable about going out without fearing any judgment; free to love you at her own pace, because you would stay there, waiting.

the two versions of the list (before and after)

🗂️NJZ masterlist

#haerin x reader #kang haerin #newjeans #haerin newjeans #njz haerin #njz #kpop fanfic #wlw #fluff #angst with a happy ending #slight angst

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backtothefanfiction · 2 years ago

Text

Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world.

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare.

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?”

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you.

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you.

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs.

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you.

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin.

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you.

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs.

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.”

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air.

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.”

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged.

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock.

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly.

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again.

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you.

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #professor!Peter Parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #Andrew Peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #Peter Parker smut #professor!au #spiderman #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm!peter #andrew garfield peter parker #reader insert #smut #this is so self indulgent #Peter Parker x female reader

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angelkittywrites · 8 months ago

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Writing this at almost 5 AM bc I can't sleep.

You waltz into Sebastian's shop, yawning. It's so late in the night you'd assume. Not like you have a clock or anything to help you tell you what time it is. You hear him welcome you but you're so drowsy that you can't even hear him correctly. It almost sounded like he's telling you to fuck off or something. Your feet ache from walking all over the blacksite.

"Ey Seb. I don mean to intrude but can I plehse rest ere?" Damn, even your speech is fucked up due to how tired you were. "I mean yeah I guess." Sebastian saw you lean against him as you sat down.

You were forever grateful for Sebastian's hospitality. You felt Sebastian lift you up and place you down on his tail as he told you that you might get back pain just by sitting there. You didn't care at this point. You closed your eyes and began to drift off before you got woken up by Sebastian coiling himself around you. "It's okay to rest here, sweetheart."

He called you sweetheart. That's sweet. "You can rest for however long you need to." Sebastian continues. "I care about you more than I do the other Expendables."

He admits before continuing. "You don't flash me, don't be mean to me, and you listen to what I have to say. I can't thank you enough. The least I can do is let you rest." He smiles softly at you as you drifted off to sleep.

"The truth is... I love you. It's been rather hard for me to say it since you're busy doing what it is Urbanshade wants you to do." He plays with your hair as you slept, hoping you have good dreams. "I want to be with you, to hold you like this, to be your safe place." He continues to ramble.

"You matter to me and you always will. You will always be my precious pearl. Something that no one else can understand. I want to keep you safe in my arms, to see you let out all your frustrations, to make me feel like I'm doing a good job at keeping you safe." He gave you a small peck on your forehead, gently petting you.

His precious pearl. That's what you are. You mattered to him like he mattered to you. You both are made for each other. Beautifully crafted in each other's presence.

I hope this has no mistakes for I am tired and can't sleep.

Divider by @/cafekitsune

#sebastian solace pressure #sebastian solace #pressure sebastian solace #sebastian solace pressure x reader #sebastian solace x reader #˗ˏˋ꒰ 📁 ꒱ tobias writes #˗ˏˋ꒰ 🌊 ꒱ x reader fics #˗ˏˋ꒰ 📁 ꒱ canon x reader

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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How You Play the Game Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley wins a box seat ticket for the first game of the World Series final, he doesn't think his day could get any better. But when he's given a seat in the press box by mistake, he meets a gorgeous sports writer from New York. And he has one of the best nights of his life.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and smut (18+)

Length: 6300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Bradley was half asleep, sipping on his coffee while he drove to North Island from his house in the soft pre dawn light. He really hated these early training days that started at six o'clock and didn't end until after dinnertime. He'd be in the air all day, and then he'd probably be too tired to stay awake to watch game one of the World Series.

Everyone on base was excited that the Padres were playing the Angels. A Southern California showdown for the ages. Tickets to game one in San Diego were selling for almost a thousand dollars per seat, but the sports radio host Bradley was listening to was giving them away.

Bradley yawned as the host asked, "Who was the first major league baseball player to pitch a ball over 100 miles per hour?"

"That's easy," Bradley mumbled. "Nolan Ryan." And then he realized that it was 5:30 in the morning and perhaps nobody else who was listening knew that fact. "Huh," he grunted, reaching for his phone at a red light. He dialed the number and was shocked when he got through to the host.

"Good morning, caller! What's your name? Where are you from?"

"I'm Bradley. From Coronado."

"Do you have an answer for me, Bradley? Which major league player was the first to pitch over 100 miles per hour?"

"That would be Nolan Ryan."

"You sound confident in your baseball knowledge," the host replied. "Double or nothing? I'll upgrade your ticket to a seat in a box suite if you can tell me which team Ryan was pitching against."

Bradley smiled to himself as he pictured the boxes of his dad's old baseball cards that he still had in his garage. "He was pitching against the Chicago White Sox."

And just like that, Bradley was the proud owner of a suite ticket for game one of the World Series at Petco Park later that night.

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Your flight from New York to San Diego had been delayed so many times, you were a little surprised you managed to get to your hotel in your rental car and then make it to the game on time. At least you'd been able to start writing your article on the flight. Unless the game went into extra innings, you should be able to finish by your midnight deadline. Because if there was one thing the New York Times didn't mess around with, it was the hard cutoff for your submissions.

As you made your way to the media entrance at Petco Park, you pulled out your lanyard with your credentials and looped it around your neck. As soon as someone learned that you were a sports writer for the most prestigious newspaper in the country, they were either impressed or they did a double take. You were a freshly thirty year old female with a ten year career in sports journalism, and you didn't take shit from any guys about it.

In fact, you loved it when men tried to one up you. Because they never could. You knew more than they did about sports, you were an amazing writer, and you found pleasure in shutting them down. Preferably in front of their friends. And then they would inevitably try to ask you out. And you would shut that down, too. It was a game that you were very good at now.

As you were scanned into the ballpark by a security officer, you quickly made your way up to your assigned press box. You expected the heavy hitters to be there. And of course you'd be the youngest, and probably one of just a few women in attendance. As you climbed the narrow stairs and swiped your badge one last time, you opened the door and strolled past a table filled with food and drinks. And then you saw them: Carl from ESPN, Jack from The Chicago Tribune, Harold from the Los Angeles Times, and Quincy from the Philadelphia Inquirer. You would keep your guard up, because it was just a matter of time before one of them made some sort of comment about your ability to do your job.

The room was already filling up as you claimed a spot on one of the narrow counters where you could set up your computer and get to work. You removed your lanyard and tossed it next to your stuff, and then you waved to Raya from MSN Sports, the only other female in the room. When you turned to grab a drink and some food, you noticed the flash of a handsome face and a mustache. And then you stifled a scream as you saw and felt a plastic cup of cold beer meet your chest before soaking the front of you completely.

"Oh, fuck!" came the deep, raspy voice of the most handsome man you could remember seeing in recent history as he stared at your chest. You supposed it was a fair trade, because you couldn't look away from his face no matter what you did. He was hot; all tan skin, brown eyes, and wavy, brown hair. And the blush that crept in and colored his cheeks made him look boyish as he glanced up to meet your eyes. "I'm so sorry!"

When he swallowed hard, and his eyes drifted down to your chest again, you looked down as well. Great. Your light blue lace bra was plainly visible through your white blouse, and the beer was even dripping onto your jeans and your new, white Chucks.

You just shook your head and shrugged. "It's okay. Shit happens. But why did you bring a beer in here?" you asked. But he still looked so embarrassed and flustered, you decided to mess with him. "Who do you write for? I'll send them my laundry bill."

"Write?" he asked, and yep, that was confirmation that he had the sexiest voice you had ever heard.

"Yeah," you said, feeling a little flustered yourself as you reached for some napkins to dab your shirt dry. "Tampa Bay Times? Boston Globe? Oh Lord, don't tell me you're from Barstool Sports. I don't recognize you, and I'm pretty sure I'd remember you." That was a lie; you would definitely have remembered him.

"No," he said, watching your every move. "I don't write."

You laughed as his gaze flicked up from your chest to your eyes when you looked up at him. "That explains the alcohol, then. But why are you in the press box? Did you get lost up here?"

He smirked at that. "No. I won a radio contest and got a seat in a box suite. But somehow my ticket got mixed up, and they sent me a media pass instead."

"Really?" you asked, eyeing him up and down now. "I had to pay for a four year journalism degree for my media pass, and you're going to tell me I could have just listened to the radio?"

His laugh was infectious and his smile made you a little giddy as he held out his hand to you. "I'm Bradley. I don't think I could manage to write an article about sports, even if I was getting paid to do it. You must be very talented." You preened a bit at his words as you shook his hand. "And I'm really sorry about the beer," he added, gesturing to your shirt. "I'd offer to get you a drink or dinner, but the food in here is free, and you're actually working. So, I'll just stand here like an idiot and keep shaking your hand and apologizing until you tell me your name and tell me to stop. I'm really sorry about your shirt." He was still shaking your hand, and now you couldn't stop smiling.

You told him your first name and then you said, "You can stop shaking my hand now, Bradley."

"Let me grab you some water?" he asked, and when you nodded, he turned toward the bar in the far corner. And you took in his tall frame, broad shoulders and massive biceps which were highlighted by his Padres shirt.

"Oh no," you whispered to yourself, still mindlessly dabbing your wet blouse with some napkins.

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Bradley turned toward you with two water bottles, and thankfully this time he managed to keep the drinks in his hands. You were so fucking cute, and your wet shirt was doing crazy things to him. He couldn't stop smiling, and when you looked up at him and cautiously accepted your drink, you were smiling too.

"Thanks for not drenching me again," you said, tapping your drink to his. And then Bradley heard an older guy call your name, and you turned in his direction.

"Nice shirt," he shouted so everyone was suddenly looking your way. "That how you plan on getting an exclusive with one of the players? Sex sells now? I thought this was about the game."

Bradley was appalled that another journalist was talking to you like that, but before he could say that your wet shirt was actually his fault, you were shouting back at the guy.

"Harold, you couldn't even drag your sorry, old ass down to the field fast enough to get an exclusive with the mascot. I don't know how you're not retired or dead yet. Didn't you cover the 1922 World Series?"

Bradley watched Harold purse his lips at you before he turned away and took a seat. And when Bradley glanced down at you as you sipped your water, you looked completely unfazed. And he was ridiculously turned on.

"Damn, nobody should be messing with you," he said, thoroughly impressed. "You're an Ace."

You just rolled your eyes, but you looked very pleased by his words. He already knew he wanted to talk to you all night, but now you were setting your drink down next to your computer and opening it as you sat. "This is a boys club. Just a dick measuring contest. I can't let up for a second or I'll get steamrolled."

Bradley let his eyes dip down to your damp shirt as he asked, "I don't want to commit another beer related crime. You seem to know how this press box stuff works. Mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all," you told him as you licked your lips. "As long as you don't spill anything else on me."

Bradley eased himself down on the stool next to yours, and his knee brushed your thigh. He watched you filling out a baseball stat sheet while you opened up a document on your computer.

"So what was the trivia question?" you asked as you sipped your water again.

"Trivia question?" he murmured, watching your lips wrap around the rim of the bottle before you took a drink.

"Yeah, isn't that how you won the pass? For the box seat? Even though you're slumming it with the journalists now?"

"I wouldn't call this slumming it," he said, eyeing your pretty face. "But yeah, they asked who was the first pitcher to throw a ball over 100 miles per hour."

"Oh. Nolan Ryan. Angels versus the White Sox. Nice," you said as you smiled at him. Fuck. You liked sports. You wrote about sports. You were gorgeous, and you knew more about sports than he did. Bradley let his mind drift to peeling off your damp, white shirt and licking the taste of beer off your chest while you moaned baseball stats and ran your fingers through his hair. He could definitely get into that. He briefly wondered if you were going to be at the next game here on Sunday.

And then you were keeping the game stats in your notebook at the same time you typed up notes, and Bradley realized he had missed the first few pitches. "Oof, that was a sloppy curveball," you muttered as you peered down at the field before checking the overhead screen. "He's supposed to be their Ace."

"Nah, you're the Ace," Bradley said, and you turned to grin at him as your fingers brushed against his. There was not a lot of room at this little countertop, and when you tried to nudge his arm out of the way, he wrapped it around the back of your stool.

"How am I supposed to keep my stats with you taking up so much space?" you asked, but your tone sounded playful, and you leaned a little closer to him. "You're massive."

Those words spoken in your voice had his cock stirring. "Yeah well, not a lot I can do about that, Ace."

That grin was back as you tapped the end of your pencil against your lips, and his gaze followed the motion. "So what do you do, Bradley? I'm going to guess you're not a waiter since you can't walk without spilling drinks. And you're definitely not a writer."

"I'm a pilot. A naval aviator," he told you softly, running his thumb along your back and watching you bite your lip.

"Fascinating," you told him before returning your attention back to the game and scribbling down the pitch count. And that's when Bradley's gaze landed on your badge which was sitting next to your computer.

He recognized your full name immediately. "Holy shit. You write for the New York Times."

"Yeah," you replied, turning to look at him before pulling your lip between your teeth again.

"Ace. I recognize your name. You're the best sports writer in the country."

Bradley was blushing, he knew he must be, but your bright smile was focused on him, and he couldn't keep his fingertips from drawing lazy shapes along your back where his hand rested.

"You know me?"

He nodded and raised an eyebrow at you. "You're famous. I read your articles all the time. I downloaded the New Your Times app solely for you."

When you laughed and gently bit the eraser end of your pencil, Bradley groaned. "You're funny," you told him.

"You're gorgeous." The words were out his mouth before he could stop himself. He thought about apologizing, but then you leaned in a little closer and ran your pencil eraser up his thigh along his jeans.

"Stop distracting me," you whispered, kissing his cheek before returning your attention to your computer. Your lips had brushed the end of his mustache, and he could still feel the soft sensation there as you gazed at him from the corner of your eyes. This was going to be a long night for Bradley.

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Bradley had called you gorgeous. He was playful, and he kept a smile on your lips. When he made a comment about the Angels' catcher, you told him, "You're completely right. I'm adding that to my piece." And he blushed that deep shade of pink again.

"Damn, Ace. I'll be thinking about your voice when I read your article tomorrow morning."

"Mm," you hummed, marking down another strikeout. "It would be fun to read it to you. I think you'd blush. The whole time."

His lips were parted, and he looked a little surprised. "It would be the filthiest of dirty talk," he muttered, and when you giggled, he grinned.

You had to bite your lip against the desire to kiss his cheek again. "World Series articles and pitching stats? That's what's gonna do it for you, Bradley?"

"Shit, how dirty can you make those pitching stats?" he whispered, thumb still skimming along the back of your shirt.

"You'd be surprised," you told him, shooting him an innocent look as he nodded at you.

"I'm sure I would."

The more you scribbled down in your notebook as the game progressed, the closer Bradley got to you. His big palm was warm on your back and you found yourself leaning into him more and more. By the eighth inning, his leg was pressed up against yours and he just kept getting closer.

"Ace, you're killing me," he murmured, taking your pencil and erasing the sloppy note you had written about the Padres relief pitcher. "Let me help."

You laughed as he rewrote your note very neatly followed by what you assumed was his phone number. Oh, he was a bold one. Very handsome, very funny and very bold.

Without a word, he handed your pencil back to you. "What am I supposed to do with that?" you asked, tapping his phone number with the pencil.

His breath was warm on your cheek as he said, "Save it in your phone. Call it. Text it. Let it know when you're in San Diego. I don't know, Ace. I just like you."

Your lips parted right as the Padres catcher hit a home run, and as everyone else in the ballpark erupted in cheers or groans, Bradley pressed his lips softly to yours. And then you tossed your pencil aside and ran your hand up along his neck. His lips were soft, but damn, his mustache was rough and you liked it.

You pulled back a few inches. "And if I text you, you're going to write back?" you asked.

"Immediately," he promised.

"Well then maybe I'll save your number."

He groaned softly as you marked down the home run. "Are you covering game two on Sunday?" he asked as the ninth inning started.

"I'm covering every game," you told him, letting your hand rest on his thigh. The soft noise he made had you scraping your fingernails softly along his jeans as he watched your hand instead of the game. "I'll be back and forth between San Diego and Los Angeles for the next two weeks or so, if they go to seven games. Which, in my professional opinion, they will."

After your fingers grazed his zipper, you watched his head tip back, the veins in his neck working as he swallowed. You were pretty turned on now, too. And the way he was responding to you was making things worse by the minute.

"I'm gonna have to drop a grand on a ticket to see you back here on Sunday, aren't I?" he asked as you shrugged and ran your finger along his belt loop. Then you released him and turned back to type a few sentences for your article.

"Listen," you told him without looking at him. "There's no guarantee I'm even going to let you have my number, so I wouldn't worry about that just yet."

He was quiet for a beat as you typed away, and then he said, "How about you let me buy you a drink for real? Right after the game tonight?"

"I have a deadline to meet," you told him, and he looked disappointed as he nodded. "But my article is almost done. And my hotel is right across the street. We could go to the bar there?"

"Absolutely," he murmured, his fingers still at your back. "Anywhere you want."

As soon as the game ended with a Padres victory, you tossed your computer and notebook into your bag, and you were on your feet next to Bradley. "Let's get out of here."

You took his big hand in yours, glancing up at him occasionally as you tried to beat most of the crowd to the exit. And each time, he was looking back at you, smiling. You led him across the parking lot, and your hotel was in sight when you pushed him up against the brick wall outside of the ballpark. Bradley welcomed your body against his, and he looked at you like he couldn't believe this was happening just before you kissed him.

It was dark over here, even the streetlights were dim. His hands were on your back as your fingers tangled in his hair, and you were rubbing yourself gently against him.

"Ace," he grunted against your lips. "You gotta let me buy you that drink."

You could feel him growing harder for you as you kissed him and tasted his tongue. Suddenly the hotel bar was the farthest thing from your mind. It had been replaced by thoughts of your hotel room bed instead.

"Come on, Bradley," you whispered, linking your fingers with his and leading him further down the sidewalk. He went with you willingly, leaning down to kiss your cheek and your neck as you waited in a crowd of people for the light to change at the crosswalk.

"You smell good. Like the beer I spilled on you," he groaned, holding you close. The movement of his lips had his mustache prickling your neck. You wanted to feel it on all your sensitive skin. You wanted to see if you could make him blush in bed.

You and he stumbled across the street and into the hotel lobby where you eyed the bar as he wrapped his big hand around your waist. You looked up at him and asked, "Wanna skip the bar and go up to my room? Find out if I taste good like the beer, too?"

The sound of Bradley's groan as his hand slid down to your butt had you pressing yourself against his thigh. "Lead the way, Ace."

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The elevator ride to the top floor was filled with the sound of kissing as well as the little gasping noises you made. Your hands were at the fly of his jeans as he pushed you back against the wall and devoured your mouth. Bradley was so hard and ready for you, he was honestly surprised. He just met you. This was not a usual occurrence for him.

"Bradley," you moaned, unbuttoning his jeans as the elevator jolted to a stop. You abandoned his jeans for his hand and pulled him down the hallway, running toward your room and laughing. You stopped in front of one of the doors and started to dig in your bag.

He stood behind you and ran his lips along your neck as you gasped for him. You were so responsive, stroking something deep down inside of Bradley every time you reacted to him. He wrapped his hands around to the front of your jeans and started to play with your button as well. When his fingers met the soft skin of your belly, your head tipped back against him.

"I can't find my room key," you moaned as he ran his hands up inside your shirt. He watched as you gripped the bag with both hands and let your eyes drift closed.

"You're not really trying very hard, Baby," he said with a smirk. He couldn't believe you right now. So pretty and so lost to his touch. He was throbbing and aching for you, too.

"Because you're teasing me!" you complained with a laugh. But then you turned in his arms, and suddenly Bradley's hands were on your bare back. Your eyes were wide, bag clutched between your body and his. "This is... not something that I usually do. Especially not when I'm on the job." Your voice was soft, and as you nervously bit your lip, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"Same, Ace," he promised with a smirk. "In fact, I've never had a woman seduce me this quickly before. You're irresistible."

Your laughter was the best thing he had ever heard. "I thought I was the one being seduced here?"

"No," he said, reaching into your bag and plucking out the key. "You're in charge." He handed it to you, and you wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck and kissed him hard before you turned and unlocked the door with your other hand. You pulled Bradley with you as you stumbled backwards into the dark room.

As you searched blindly for the light switch, you pushed Bradley against the wall. You had your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and your tongue was in his mouth as you located the switch.

"That's better," you mumbled breathlessly as you turned on the light, and Bradley pulled away from you a few inches.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he whispered as he tightened his right arm around your waist. He wasn't being shy about how hard he was for you, and you weren't being shy either. You whimpered as you rubbed yourself gently against him, and he ran his thumb along your cheek and down to your lips. "I haven't been this turned on in so long."

Then Bradley watched you reach down and pull off your white shirt in one smooth motion, leaving you in that sinful looking blue bra before him. You were stroking him through his jeans with your right hand when you whispered, "I thought you were going to taste me, Bradley." Your eyes were wide and innocent looking as you challenged him.

He nodded slowly. "I wanna taste you everywhere." Then he scooped you up as you laughed, and he carried you to the king sized bed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "You gonna let me do that?"

"Yes," you whispered right next to his ear, and Bradley eased you down onto the bed with his body weight on top of you. As you started tugging on his Padres shirt, he managed to remove his shoes before reaching down both of your calves and yanking yours off. He tossed them blindly behind himself, wincing as he hit the wall with both of them.

But you just laughed and pulled his tee shirt up, leaving him in his white tank. You were holding his shirt in your hand as he pressed his lips to yours. "You taste so good here," he whispered, running his tongue along your bottom lip as you wrapped your leg around his hip. Then he kissed your chest before licking a stripe across the top of your lace bra as you bucked your core against him. "Fuck," he groaned. He licked and sucked on the top of your right tit. "Your skin tastes like that spilled beer. I love it on you."

"Well then, you better clean me up with your tongue, since it's your fault in the first place." You tipped your head back, and arched your back off the bed, and Bradley followed your lead, letting his big hands find the clasp of your bra. You moaned softly as he unhooked it and moved his fingers around to ease the fabric away from your body.

"God damn," he groaned before taking your nipple between his lips. Your fingers were tight in his hair as he sucked on you, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your other breast.

"Bradley!" you cried out when he rubbed his mustache across your nipple. He was dying to fuck you, but you were letting him tease the hell out of you, and he was loving this.

"You like that?" he asked, enjoying all the cues you were giving him. He couldn't stop grinning as you whimpered a soft little yes before pulling his undershirt off.

When you ran your fingers through his chest hair and down his abs, Bradley swallowed hard. Because you didn't stop there. You reached right for his unbuttoned jeans and eased his zipper down. He held himself over you, looking down into your needy eyes as you ran your fingers along the elastic of his underwear before delving inside. You licked your pouty lips before you wrapped your hand around his cock, and then you closed the distance up to his lips with the softest, sweetest kiss. You stroked him slowly while barely brushing your lips against his, and it was driving him absolutely insane.

"Ace," he grunted, and you squeezed your hand around his cock and giggled while he moaned for you. Then you gasped and let go of him. "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately pulling himself away from you while he panted.

Your eyes looked concerned, so he put a little more distance between your bodies. "I don't have any condoms," you whispered as you eased your hand away from him.

Bradley pressed his lips to your forehead. "I think I have one in my wallet. It's new."

"Oh," you gasped. "Should have known," you told him. "You're pretty gorgeous, too."

Bradley wanted to ease your mind, let you know that he didn't hook up with a lot of women anymore. He wanted to tell you that the condom was there for just a special occasion like this one. He wanted to explain to you that the last few he'd had in his wallet had been sacrificed to Jake when he'd been in a pinch at the bar.

But you were easing him onto his back, and he supposed it probably wouldn't make much of a difference. It wasn't like you were going to want more from him than just tonight. Besides, he hadn't had anything that wasn't casual in a very long time.

You were on top of him now, straddling his waist in your unbuttoned jeans, and you were reaching for both of his hands. And when you had your fingers laced with his and pinned his hands over his head, Bradley closed his eyes and enjoyed your touch. Your lips were soft on his face and your thumbs were stroking along his palms in a way that was not only turning him on more, but also providing him with some comfort.

When you whispered his name, he opened his eyes and he felt surprised by the realization that he only met you tonight.

"Maybe you should get that condom ready?" you asked softly, rolling your hips against Bradley's torso.

"Yeah," he grunted. And then you were easing down his body, taking his jeans and underwear with you. Bradley propped himself up on one elbow as his cock sprang free. You made eye contact with him, lips parted on a soft whimper.

"Bradley," you sighed, tugging his jeans, underwear and socks completely off.

Before you tossed everything aside, he mumbled, "Grab my wallet, Baby." Your eyes met his with so much need before you focused on taking the leather out of the pocket of his jeans, it had him reaching for you.

You shoved it into his hand before you scrambled back up his body and brushed your fingers through his hair, kissing his lips like he was every goddamn thing you wanted.

Bradley removed the condom and tossed his wallet onto the floor. Then he had you underneath him again. You still smelled like the spilled beer as he kissed his way along your chest, and you were trying to wriggle out of your jeans. "I can take care of that," he whispered, pressing the condom into your hand. Then he had every scrap of fabric removed from your body, and he didn't know if he could handle how perfect you really were. "Ace," he groaned when you eased your feet up his biceps and let your ankles rest on his shoulders.

Bradley's lips found the inside of your right thigh as if he was drawn to you like a magnet. Your eyes were half lidded, and you had one hand in his hair and one on your tits. How was he going to recover from this?

"Let me taste you," he begged, and when you nodded, his lips were on your pussy immediately. He groaned, already addicted to the way you tasted here too. He kissed along your slit and buried his nose against your clit.

"Oh!" you gasped, tightening your grip on his hair and spreading your legs wider for him. Bradley's cock was throbbing against the bedding as he slid his tongue up through your soaking wet pussy until his lips were wrapped around your clit.

"Yesss," you hissed, gently riding his face as you whispered his name. And with each stroke of his tongue, you got a little louder, your fingers pulled his hair a little more. Oh, he was so fucking turned on for you, he wasn't sure he'd last more than a minute once he had that condom on.

"Bradley!" you gasped, pressing your heel into his back while he sucked on your clit. "Put the condom on."

It took him a little bit to get his lips away from your pussy, because he really wanted to get you off with his mouth. But then he rationalized that you wanted him to get you off with his dick instead, and that sounded perfect, too.

"Okay," he panted, brushing his wet mustache against your belly as you opened the condom for him. He rolled it on and kissed your lips as he pressed himself to your core. Now you were holding him in place by his hair as you returned his kisses, softly moaning into his mouth as he pressed his tip into you. You felt warm and tight and perfect, and as you took every inch of him, he stroked his thumb along your cheek.

"Oh god," you whimpered, frantically kissing him and licking his mustache. Your voice was coming in little gasps, and he loved the sound of it.

Bradley withdrew and thrust back inside you, and you rolled your hips with his. "You gotta tell me what you like, Ace. I want to make you feel good."

He watched your eyes go a little wider before you reached for his hand. When you took his index and middle fingers between your lips and started sucking on him while he fucked you, he groaned. "Baby. God that feels fucking great. But don't make me cum yet."

With a soft whimper, you swirled your tongue along his fingers before popping them out of your mouth and guiding his hand down between your bodies to your clit. Bradley had to suck in a deep breath and think about one of his superior officers leading a boring lecture to keep himself in check. He never felt close to the edge this fast, but as he ran his wet fingers along your clit and fucked you into the bed, he knew he could cum if he let himself.

"Bradley," you whispered, and he buried his face against your neck. "Harder."

He bit his lip and fucked you harder while you whined his name, and he kept his fingers on your clit, trying to work you up. He needed to get you off. He absolutely needed to do this. Because he was hoping you'd call him or text him. He wanted you to save his number and use it. He was already dying for more.

"Ace," he groaned, pressing his lips to your neck as your fingers drifted down his shoulders to his back.

You moaned, "I like it when you call me that," so Bradley pressed the nickname against your lips with his until you were gasping and clenching around him. When you came for him, you took his fingers from your clit and laced your hand with his as his movements grew more erratic.

He was saying something as he came inside you, but he wasn't exactly sure what. And you were looking up at him with a soft, fucked out smile and pushing his hair away from his forehead with your warm hand. And then you let him collapse on top of you while he was still buried inside you, and you ran your fingers back through his hair.

Bradley settled his cheek against your chest and let himself enjoy the feel of your breathing evening out after your orgasm. You were still making soft sounds as you rubbed your calf along his leg. He could have stayed just like this all night. You felt that good.

Just as he looked up at you, about to ask if there was any way you'd want to see him again this weekend, you laughed softly.

"Wow. That was fun."

Fun. He wanted to be more than a fun time. "And good, I hope?" he asked softly.

"More than good," you whispered, laughing again. "Amazing."

Bradley smiled at you, and he knew he was blushing. "Yeah. Amazing is the right word for it."

And you were smiling so much, Bradley laughed as you tried to hide behind your hand. He leaned in and kissed your wrist. "Ace, I-"

Bradley jerked away from you as an alarm went off somewhere in the room. When you sat up, he gently eased himself out of you with a grunt.

"That's my thirty minute warning," you told him, scrambling out of bed. "I need to finish my article and submit it."

"Oh," he said, watching you bend to locate your phone. "Right."

You looked at him and licked your lips nervously as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. And then you bent to start retrieving your clothing, and Bradley's heart sank as he stood as well. Wordlessly, he went into the bathroom to take care of the condom and wash his hands, and when he came back out, you were dressed in your underwear and the white shirt he had messed up.

"I guess," he whispered, pulling on his own underwear, "I should go then."

You pressed your lips together and nodded slightly. "I guess so."

"Okay," he said, quickly getting himself dressed in everything except his Padres tee. He just held that while he looked at you. "You have my number."

"I do," you whispered.

"You can use it," he told you with a smile, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek. And then your lips were on his. And then your fingers were in his hair again.

You moaned and then pulled away from him, and Bradley forced himself to walk backwards to the door, not wanting to take his eyes off you.

"Bye, Bradley."

He didn't want to say goodbye to you, so he said, "See ya, Ace," and then he was out in the hallway with the door closing behind him.

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

Oh, Bradley! I love Ace, and I hope you do, too! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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badgyalshii · 1 year ago

Text

ITS NEVER OVER |||

+ (WHERE HAVE YOU GONE)

word count: 1.7?

Paul atreides x Reader (Always safe for POC + PLUS SIZE) Paul POV!!!

warnings: signs of depression? were happy in there tho, proof read? yeah something like that (god i am not good at these😭) y/n is not in this chapter but ofc shes mentioned entirely throughout the text.

A/N: AHHHHHH THE FINAL CHAPTER BEFORE THE FINALE, IM EXCITED TO POSTTTT, i hope you guys enjoyed and i love the feedback i recieved! i love you all, have a good day/night, whenever you get this! (Also, considering that this is from pauls POV i thought that i might add an extra title)

Hey! Have you read the first chapters? You didnt? What! Read it here!! I . II . III . IV.

Hmm? You said you like shii’z writing?! Omg me too! Check out her masterlist!

He let out a heavy breath before he ripped his mask off of his face. He wasn't supposed to be out alone considering he was the new crowned emperor. But he was, and he was searching for you and he wasn't gonna give up until he did. He wore heavy clothing to try and hide his identity from others, and a bag that slung around his shoulder consisting of his journal, water, and other things he might need. He settles for the night in a rock. A rock with a beautiful view. He has been on the road for so long, he's forgotten how long, he didn't really care to remember either, considering it would help motivate to find you. He walks around the rock, searching for anything to give him clues of you or if you might've been here.

As he looked around, It was clear that someone had been there before. He looked at the bad attempt of making a bed, but he didn't touch it. His eyes slightly closed from trying to study the bed, there were still prints of a body, maybe two, on the bed. He hunches over. There was a piece of hair, as disgusting as it sounds…he picked it up. It was the same as yours, he took a rather long pause before thinking, maybe he should smell the bed? No, what if he smells something he doesn't like. He shook his head before looking at the single strand of hair that was in his hand. He sat down on the bed, setting the hair gently aside before taking off his glove and putting the strand back in his palm. Everybody's hair could be similar, he thought. He let out a sigh before looking ahead of him. He didn't know what time it was, but all he knew was that he was tired and heart broken. He didn't miss his home, not at all, not with you not there.

He put his glove and his mask back on before placing the hair into his bag. Out of everything that was going on, at least the view was beautiful. He stood and walked to the view of the rock, carelessly taking footsteps before he sighed and dropped down, his legs open and his elbows on his knees as he took in the view. He let in a deep breath. ¨tired. I am tired¨ he let out in a whisper. He fought his sleep often because he knew it would make him less confident and he would grow to slack, but sometimes he just couldn't take it anymore. The yawns leaving his lips, difficulty holding onto the hooks that latched onto the sandworm, but he thought he could finally settle here for a while, as a reward for finding a piece of hair that have a 5 percent chance of being yours.

As he watched the view, he thought of you. He didn't cry as much anymore. When he cried, he cried alone in private. And during that time, he cried until he couldn't anymore. Every time he saw Irulan it made him sick to his stomach. As much as he wanted to blame her, he couldn't. His heart was too good and he knew better than to let a weak desperate moment turn into anger. ¨why did i offer?¨ he would think over and over, countless times, wondering how could he be so careless. But he wasn't, he didn't want to marry her for the reason of love, just wanted to keep her safe as a promise to the retired and overthrown emperor. Thinking about it made him question his character, who has he grown to be? hed remembered what you said, he always thought of the smart and wise things you had to say.

¨its okay to feel how you feel, paul¨ you looked at him with a pity smile on your face while your hand was on his cheek. He had another nightmare. He didn't want it to be true. ¨this is gonna make me go crazy, y/n¨ paul whispered back, leaning into y/ns touch. ¨don't let it fool you, don't let it phase you, don't let it change you¨ you replied. At times, all paul wanted to do was give up. He didnt wanna be the chosen one. It was all too much. He could stay here forever, with you. For all eternity if he could.

Paul sighs and looks to the side. Remembering what you said, he wished things weren't so quiet.he laughed to himself, all the dreams he had of the future, but none of you. He sat alone, all alone, not one book, not one sound, just him, by himself. He felt empty, he wants you, he needs you, he needed someone to make him feel complete again, but days spread thick and long, bored, fighting himself back and forth between hope for finding you and wondering if you had just moved on. He wished he had a dream of you, of your blue eyes glistening in the sun, of your laugh, He wished it was so vivid that he touched you, that he could control his dream and talk to you, make love to you, but he had nothing, nothing at all. Nothing to remember you by, just a stupid suspicious piece of hair, tears brimmed his eyes, he needs you. There was no one he could pray to if he was the chosen one. No matter how hard he fought, how he tried to distract himself from work, it all lead up to one person, not one other thought, never out of sight out of mind, he knew what he wanted and he fell so deep he felt like he just couldn't grasp it anymore, how was he supposed to live his life without you. Your soft gentle hands grazing his face and answering the stupid and goofy questions he asked. There was no one else and he knew that now, didn't even find anyone else attractive. Lonesome nights, he didn't want to be on his own, ever again. Once he found you he vowed to never let you go, no matter how loud your voice is, no matter if you kicked him down, your in his heart and he just cannot let go, but how long could he search? Huh? How long would it be until he found you? When will he hear your voice again? When will he kiss you again? He didn't even say I love you before you walked off, for all he knew, that was his last goodbye.

On the first day, he acted as if nothing happened, but then he realized you weren't there, he couldn't pick at your dinner plate, he could hear your laughs, he couldn't feel your pity hits after he whispers a dirty joke. He had no one to talk to, no one to ask him if he was okay. Was he...okay? Had he known he was okay? Or has he grown so long to the point where he wasnt and he just didn't know it. He wished he said more, begged you to stay, cried about it, weeped about it, there was so much he could've done and he didn't, he only said a short explanation of how he was waiting for you and now he's on the run, on the search. He was so tired, so tired of looking at the same spice on the ground, carving on the rock of the walls. He wanted to be next to you, holding your head in his shoulder, hear your soft snores as you slept like there wasn't a care in the world. He'd never expect this, a life without you. He sighed and shook the thought out of his head, noticing he was in too deep and he wiped the tears that slowly dropped from his face, letting out a sniffle as he looked ahead. He didn't want to be too deep, of course he missed you, but he wanted to find you with a clear conscience, a healthy mind. He needed something to keep him going. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked to the ground. He placed a palm down and leaned closer to the floor. What is this? This imprint on the floor? Looks familiar.

He looked over it, careful not to move or make any sudden movements. ¨y/n?¨ he muttered. Any normal person would've thought paul as crazy, looking like he's searching for spice on the floor, and then wanting to jump and cheer, because, well, because what?

The necklace

The necklace Paul got for her. It was there! Clear as day. What a time to cheer! He couldn't fight off the smile on his lips. She's alive! She's alive! What a joy, out for two years! Been all around Arrakis, and at such a time he was going to give up, go home, force himself to get comfortable with his new situation, you were out there. Shall he go home? To tell stilgar and have a celebration? Sweet red wine sounded like heaven. He wiped his eyes as finally, finally tears came down. Tears of joy, he waited for this moment, oh so long! He was so happy he could take the dirt and put it in his bag also.

He laughed, he found it funny how he grew so tired of being next to his queen that he went and found you himself after he told you to come back. He grew impatient. He took out his journal and wrote, writing his life away as he thought of you, as the warmness of love and hope crowded his vision and spreaded throughout his body. This is all he wanted, to find you. And he was so close, so, so close.

He hadn't felt like this in a long time. He got up and collected the dirt from the necklace in his hand and watched it fall from his gloves. Looking around and seeing the footsteps, all yours he believed! He looked before following the footsteps, he followed them foot by foot until he was in the sand again. He hunched over, trying to search for the footsteps as they were getting lost from the wind of the sand until he couldn't anymore. He stood and pulled out his compass for the direction that you went. When it pointed he saw and lifted his head in the direction you went. This was it, this was the final piece, this was the end.

You were home.

Taglist 🏷️

@ennycutie @cookiezxx

#dune part 2 #paul atredies x black!reader #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chamalet x black!reader #timothee x you #paul atreides x reader #timothee chalamet smut #paul atredies smut

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zepskies · 1 year ago

Text

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers.

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors.

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning.

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court.

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out.

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot.

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going.

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media.

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one.

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism.

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy.

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks.

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent.

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it.

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek.

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him.

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it.

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat.

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you.

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you.

You’re not ready for that.

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you.

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him.

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen.

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks.

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking.

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand.

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in.

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt.

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his.

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping.

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek.

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

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lucvly · 1 year ago

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BEL AIR — chris sturniolo. ♪

warnings › tooth rotting fluff. not proofread !

author’s note › i miss writing fluff :(. this is just a 3 am scenario but in writing. also, i’ve been naming all my fics after the lana song i’m listening to as i write <3.

2:30 AM, JANUARY 5.

the feeling of your bed slightly stirring made your eyes flutter open, the small beams of light entering your bedroom making it harder for you to even attempt to go back to sleep. the light startled your eyes, causing you to rub your eyes slowly before yawning and looking over to your right, seeing your boyfriend still residing in a peaceful sleep.

he looked gorgeous, as always. something about watching him sleep was always going to do it for you. his messy hair from stirring in his sleep, his mouth ever so slightly open as he breathed steadily and rhythmically, and of course he was hogging most of your shared blanket, but that undoubtedly was the least of your concerns as you indulged in the sweet moment that was these moments with your boyfriend.

seems like he could feel your lingering gaze on his face, or he could simply feel the absence of your presence and warmth near him, because his eyes started to open, blinking a few times to fully wake him up.

a smile started to form on your face as you watched him wake up, and he mirrored it, a lopsided smile also starting to appear on his lips as he started to actually be aware of the moment.

“stop watching me sleep, creep.” his morning voice was so groggy yet so clear, a chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“fine, next time i’ll just kick you off the bed.” your reply was quick, the tone in your voice still sounded like you were half asleep, and was followed by a roll of your eyes, then a quick kiss to his cheek.

“morning.” he finally said, his tone dripping the sweetness that you loved. his lopsided smile and the sleepy eyes made it hard to concentrate on anything other than him. like the fact you both had places to be in less than two hours.

“morning, i missed you.” you admitted, a soft giggle echoing in the room as you slightly moved closer to him, just enough to rest your head on his chest. being able to listen to his heartbeat was comforting, instantly making a wave of sleepiness wash over you once again.

“i missed you too,” he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, one arm rubbing your back gently, starting to trace random shapes and patterns into your skin with just his fingertips, causing shivers to run down your spine as your head laid comfortably on his chest.

“i don’t wanna get up, seriously.” you let out a sigh, the warmth and feeling of safety he radiated was overpowering your will to fully get up, even though you were well aware you both had a busy day.

“me neither.” he groaned, placing another kiss on the top of your head once again, his hand moving to play with your hair gently. “what if we just stayed in bed all day?”

you couldn’t help but giggle. he was truly the sweetest, and if he continued pleading you were sure he would’ve convinced you to stay in bed with him for the rest of the day.

against all your wishes, you pulled away from his embrace and sat up on the end of the bed, still taking in the morning sun and the smell of the vanilla scented candle you left burning throughout the night, which you probably had to put out.

“c’mon, i’ll make breakfast.” you finally stood up, looking for your slippers before actually even thinking about making your way to the kitchen.

“come back to bed, i’ll just push the meeting with matt and nick,” he whined, his arms reaching for you as you leaned over to him and placed a quick kiss to his lips. “please?” his morning voice was still evident, and he knew this made it almost impossible for you to say no.

“fine. five more minutes.”

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ncis-yp · 10 months ago

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A place you shouldn’t be (Tony x reader)

You were a young spitfire. Threatened into military school by your father and given a choice.

“Go to college or go join the Marines. But you’re not going to act up in my house” you could faintly hear your dads voice in the background of your mind as you returned to Virginia.

You had done neither. You didn’t go to college, and you didn’t join the marines. Yet, here you were the disappointment of your fathers first marriage. Baggage that he had to carry around after your mom died.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n).” You heard your buddies voice call out as you tuned back into reality. You were back where you used to hang. A bar, where you played your very first gig when you were just 14 years old.

A younger singer with a strong voice. You could sing like no other, and the raspy, gravelly voice you had made it perfect for your band. Rock and roll, all types.

Time Skip~

You didn’t know it at the time, but your dad caught word that you were back in town and made it a point to watch you perform. But boy was he heated when he saw you.

Rockstar in the flesh. You were onstage singing your heart out. Your leather vest flying around you. Your arms covered in tattoos flexed as you moved. You were wearing a bikini top and shorts. Your eye makeup slightly smudged, and your (h/c) was a mess. But boy oh boy did you look like Shannon.

You had found a handsome man standing close to the stage. He was in a suit, it looked like he’d just got outta work. But boy was he having a good time. You locked eyes as you sang the next part of your song.

“Sweat dripping down our bodies but I’m begging for more/ got my hand on you cock with your pants on the floor/ I’m moaning out your name while you’re cursing mine/and I’ll beg you just to cum but you keep taking your time/we were just ripping off clothes 5 minutes ago/when we were just back stage after my show/you said you wanted pictures but came in for some kisses/ but don’t pull out and just make me your missus” you wink as you scream those lyrics as the band began the chorus. The man smiled and raised an eyebrow. Pretty sure he was now in love with you.

Your father on the other hand was furious. Those lyrics and the way your body was moving in stage. God would he love to hear what you had to say. Once your show ended you made your way to the man you were looking at.

“Hey there” he says.

“Hey” you responded smirking.

“Great set up there. You are a really good singer” he raised his drink slightly.

“Ha ha thank you!” You smile deeply.

“Tony.” He said. “That’s my name. And yours, or and I just supposed to call you little miss Rockstar?”

You giggled at his joke “No the names (y/n)”

“Wow. That fits you perfectly” he chuckles. “I’ve heard your band play before… I was super happy to hear about the show close by so I had to make it”

“Yeah had to play a show here, I grew up close by here.“ You reply.

“Well that’s fucking awesome! If you’re around a few more days we should hang… maybe get some drinks” Tony winks. “And maybe some truth to those lyrics you sang to me earlier” he winked.

“Of course of course” he handed you a pen and write your number on the napkin he handed you. You kissed his cheek before placing the pen back in his hand. “Nice meeting you, Tony. Call me” you walk away.

The next day~

You waltz into NCIS, your visitors pass shiny as you approached your dad’s bullpen area. You hadn’t been at that place in at least 6 years.

“If you were in my house you’d be grounded” his voice thundered as you turned to face him.

“Nice to see you too, Dad”

“Those words were disgusting” he says. “You looked awful. I have $5 that says you reeked of beer and cocaine while you were up there” he continues.

“Yeah and I have $500 that says I’m clean” you fire back casually. “I missed you”

“Come back home and you’re grounded, (y/n), grounded”

“I’m 24” you yawned.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want” he throws up his hands.

“I’m cool” you reply defensively. “The kids get down with me and I’m ducking awesome”

“No. You’re not “cool” or “fucking awesome” (y/n)… you could be the next… I don’t know! OZZY OSBORNE”

“Hey hey, he’s cool as fuck!! Met him once”

“This is a joke to you.” He said sourly.

“Hey boss bad time?” You saw Tony walk up.

“Tony”

“(Y/n)?” He says. “What’re you doing here?”

“My dad works here” you point at Gibbs.

“Sure im your dad?” Gibbs stalks away.

Time skip~

You and Tony had decided to grab lunch. As you sat and told him the story of you and your dad he listened intently. Asking questions every so often, as he did so.

“Well, thank you so much for lunch” Tony said as he walked you to your car. “I never knew this Thai place existed.”

You laughed “yeah, I used to love it” you say stopping at your car. In a fit of impulse Tony pushed his lips onto yours. You kissed back roughly as your tongues fought for dominance, Tony pulled one of your legs up and gained domain of your mouth. You unlocked the door and fell inside the back seat, Tony falling on top of you. He closed the door behind him.

The pair of you wasted barely any time with foreplay as you palmed his erection. Tongues mangled together Tony roughly jammed his hand in your pants, teasing your folds.

“Can I do this?” His voice came out in a quiver. He was getting progressively hornier as the two of you went through your motions.

“Yeah, but don’t stop once you start” you whisper kissing his neck. His fingers plunged deep into your core, you moaned as you soaked his fingers.

“FffUCK (y/n)” he sighed as you played with his dick. You rapidly undid his belt. “Do you have a favorite position? Tell me what you want. I wanna please you the way you wanna be pleased”

“Doggy style and slut me out” you say pulling down your shorts. You flipped over and almost instantly Tony’s dick was pumping in and out of you. Your back arched as he roughly pounded into you.

“Oh my god” you heard him groan as he fucked.

“Fuck you feel so good” you say as you further arched your back seeking more. “Oh my god, Tony” you moan. He places a hand on your back as he fucks you. You could admit it… fucking in the backseat was uncomfortable to say the least, but FUCK did he feel so good he made it feel worth it.

Your moans, Tony’s curses, and the sound of dick slapping skin were the only sounds you could hear in your delicate musicians ears. Your ass bounced against his thighs as his dick plowed into you. Again and again and again.

“Fuck (y/n)” he groaned. “I’m so close”

“Me too, please don’t stop” you breathe out. Your breathe getting rapid and moans getting higher as your pussy throbbed around his dick.

“Fuck fuck fuck” he moans gutterally as he comes deeply inside of you. His orgasm sending you right over the edge. He rode out out orgasm and pulled out of you, allowing your body to fall back against his as you both breathed heavily.

“Im so sorry” he said as he gently rubbed your arm.

“For what?” You responded grabbing some the baby wipes you carried in your car, passing him some before beginning clean yourself. He took your hand away and started cleaning you himself.

“I came inside you. I’ll buy you a Plan B if you want… or we can talk about having it… I don’t know, it’s whatever you want to do, I’m just sorry I-“

“Hey, relax.” You say softly grabbing his hand. His eyes darted to you. “I’m in birth control. You don’t have to worry about that okay?”

“Okay” he nodded kissing your forehead.

Once the two of you were cleaned up Tony stood in the door way of the drivers side as you buckled your seat belt.

“So dinner?” He asked. You pulled him closed to you but his belt loops.

“Dinner with you?” He nods bending down to your level. “Of course” you kiss his lips softly.

“Okay sounds good.” He says. “Drive safe beautiful”

“Thanks handsome” you giggled as you pull out.

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footballerimaginess · 1 year ago

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Breakfast In Bed

30 Day Writing Challenge 5. Making breakfast in bed Pedri Gonzalez Word Count: 457 "Good morning baby" Pedri whispered as you slowly opened your eyes as you laid your head on his bare chest. "Morning" you muttered against his chest as he gently stroked your hair.

"I am sleepy" you let out a big yawn as you stretched, removing yourself from his chest. "Would you like some breakfast?" Pedri asked as you glanced up as he stood up in bed. "Oh yes please, I can feel my tummy rumbling" you laughed as he put the blanket back on the bed. "I am going to make us something. Be back in a bit darling" Pedri walked downstairs and made pancakes which were one of your favourite things to eat. Whilst Pedri was in the kitchen, you made sure you freshened yourself up a little bit before you headed downstairs for breakfast. You got yourself ready, into some joggers and put on some lip balm. You headed downstairs as you watched as Pedri's head peek from out of the kitchen. "Excuse me, get back into bed baby we are having breakfast in bed" Pedri shouted as you span on your heels and did as you were told and headed back upstairs. Climbing back into bed as Pedri walked in with a tray full of food. "Oh my, there is a lot here. I can't believe you did all this, you weren't even gone that long" you laughed as you bit into a strawberry. "I know, I just got quite into it. So we have pancakes, bacon crispy just how you like it and I even made some scrambled egg as well as having some fruit with granola on the side" you looked at everything on the tray as you tucked in. "This bacon is just so yummy, you know how crispy I like it" you bit into it. "I know that is why I made sure it was just perfect for you" Pedri smiled as you plated up your breakfast. "I could have this treatment every morning if I'm honest, it is just amazing" you smiled as you cut into your pancake. "Well babe I am not too sure if that is going to happen every single day, but sometimes every once in a while is a good thing. But no way am I slaving around cooking all of that for you" Pedri laughed. "Aww it is cute, bless you. This is so nice, I don't ever want to move now because I am just so comfy" you leaned back as you ate yet another strawberry. "It is a shame, but at least you don't start work for a few more hours. So we will have more time to cuddle on the sofa" Pedri grinned as he pulled you for a tight squeeze.

#30daywritingchallenge #pedri gonzalez imagine #perdri gonzalez x reader #football imagines #football imagine #football x reader #football one shots #football one shot #futbol imagines #futbol imagine

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maraschinomerry · 2 years ago

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Hi! Could you please write a Lockwood x reader fic involving the prompt: You aren't well, but you don't want to skip training and make them worry, so you continue on as usual, thinking it's not that serious. But that's proven wrong when you faint right in front of them mid-fight. Mixed with the dialogue: "You hold it like this and- why are your hands trembling?" Thank you in advance! 💙

Pretty Boy

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x gn!reader

Content: mild swearing, whump (fainting as in the prompt), mentions of not eating or sleeping, cute flirty ending

A/N: thank you for such a great request!! I've actually also just got over being not well while I was writing this (I'm fine now and wasn't this bad!) so it was weirdly cathartic 😅

Word count: 2.3k

The blissful quiet of the kitchen at 35 Portland Row was shattered by an incredibly loud, almost violent sneeze. You threw your arm across your face just in time to catch it. That was weird. You never sneezed.

"Bless you," Lockwood frowned over the top of his magazine.

That was day 1.

On day 2, you were all out on a case, in a dilapidated Victorian house. In a divide-and-conquer strategy for such a big place, Lockwood and George had headed upstairs while you and Lucy stayed on the ground floor. Fumbling around in the dim light of the dining room, Lucy threw open the curtains to let in what was left of the evening sun, accidentally unleashing a cloud of dust which shimmered in the beam of your torch. You both coughed a little in surprise.

Your coughing didn't stop for the rest of the night.

Day 3 was spent relaxing, recovering from getting home in the early hours of the morning after a gruelling fight with a pair of Type Twos. Or rather, everyone else was relaxing. You were in your room, fluctuating between wrapping your shivering form in your duvet and throwing it off so you wouldn't melt into a puddle. The bowl of soup you'd made yourself for lunch grew cold where it sat untouched on your bedside table.

A sleepless night heralded the arrival of day 4. Your symptoms had mostly abated by the evening, and you desperately hoped to claw back a few hours of rest. By dinner time, bleary-eyed, you forced yourself downstairs to try and get at least one meal of the day. Fortunately, the kitchen was empty, so at least you didn't have to explain your recent lack of presence to anyone. Unfortunately, none of the contents of the fridge were even remotely appealing right now. You settled for a slice of toast which you took back upstairs. Two bites in, you felt your stomach flip. Great. The rest went straight in the bin.

A gentle knock sounded on your door the morning of day 5, after another night of tossing and turning without ever drifting off.

"Yeah?" you called wearily.

Lockwood poked his head in, dressed in a loose Henley T-shirt and sweatpants. "Morning. Just thought I'd check you were alright, you didn't come down for training." Oh shit. You and Lockwood had been doing weekly training together for months - it started not long after you joined the agency, when he'd come down to the basement for practice and found you already there, and you'd ended up sparring. It had happened a few more times, and eventually you fell into the habit of both going down on Friday mornings so much it became an unofficial appointment.

"Oh, sorry," you swallowed a yawn. "I lost track of what day it was. Give me five minutes."

"I sort of assumed you weren't coming down dressed Iike that." He nodded to your fuzzy pyjamas with a smirk, and you tugged shyly at the hem of the top. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Yeah." That was a lie. Lockwood studied you for a moment, and you wondered if he could see right through you, but then he nodded to himself.

"Alright, see you downstairs." He began to leave, but popped back at the last second. "I'm not saying the pyjamas are a bad look, by the way, they're cute, just maybe a bit warm for fighting in." He grinned again, and disappeared. What was that supposed to mean?

—

Five minutes later, as promised, you traipsed down the basement steps in runner shorts and a tank top. This was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now, but you loved getting one-on-one time with Lockwood and knew how much it would hurt him to break the tradition and how concerned he'd be about you if he found out you'd been ill.

Lockwood gave you another puzzled look. "Are you sure you're okay?" He'd seen you this low energy before, but normally only the day after a case.

You gave the most convincing smile you could muster. "Fine. What's the plan?"

He furrowed his brows once more, before apparently deciding against whatever he was thinking. "Okay, there was a new move I figured out on the last case. I thought I could teach you and see if you think it's any good?" That last part sounded so open and vulnerable. You could imagine what he was thinking - was it a fluke? Was it him overselling his talents? Did it look ridiculous? He got like that sometimes, needed snapping out of it. Reassuring. Your smile was more genuine this time.

"Sounds good, it certainly seemed effective."

You tried your best to concentrate while Lockwood demonstrated the move, really you did, but you were running on empty and the basement was so delightfully cool. Maybe if you just lay down on the floor for a bit, you'd sort yourself out.

"Did you get that?" Lockwood's voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, and you dragged your eyes up to meet his, which were nodding to your hands. You hadn't the slightest idea what it was he expected you to have got.

"Uhh…"

To your relief, he mistook your distraction for confusion and stepped closer to help, carefully off to one side to avoid the blade as his hands rested over yours.

"You hold it like this and- why are your hands trembling?"

You barely registered the alarm in his voice, or the uncontrollable tremor that was indeed present and spreading up your arms. Nothing in your body seemed to be responding properly any more. Did you still have hold of the rapier? Why was your chest so tight, not allowing any air in? An invisible wad had trapped in your throat, and you desperately sucked in a breath through your nose. Gosh, Lockwood smelled good. Lavender and bergamot. And he was pretty, too. So pretty. Those deep dark eyes, gazing at you with so much longing. No, not longing. He didn't do that, did he? Plus, he was frowning too much for longing. Concern? You didn't like it when he frowned. You tried to pout, but your lips didn't move. That was annoying. So were the lights. Had they always been this bright? It hurt. Everything hurt. You needed to leave. Now.

Panic took hold of the last working corner of your brain and sent a jolt of electricity down to your legs which finally reacted, carrying you shakily towards the stairs. You muttered something incoherent, mouth not quite as functional. The effort drained the last dregs of energy, and your legs stopped working again.

"Whoa, whoa-" a voice behind you gasped, hasty footsteps echoing. Who was that? There was someone else down here, wasn't there? You couldn't remember. Wait. There was a pretty boy, right? He seemed nice. You tried to tell him you were okay, you wanted to. As you pitched backwards, the silhouette of the pretty boy swam into view, blocking out the harsh lights above. That was better.

Everything went black.

—

You were laying somewhere warm and soft. That was odd. And it was less bright behind your eyelids. Where were you? Hadn't you been down in the basement? With the cold floor and the cold lights… and the pretty boy? Was he still here?

You tried to call out for him, succeeding only in a groan. The surface beneath you shifted by your feet in response, and your eyelids fluttered open a fraction. There he was. Framed by the golden rays filtering through the window behind him and dappling across his dark hair.

"Hey, pretty boy," you murmured. Proper words; that was more like it. Next step: opening your eyes fully.

Ah.

The pretty boy was Lockwood, brows knitted upwards as he shuffled further up what you gradually realised was your bed.

"Hey." His voice was thick, with the hint of a shake. "How are you feeling?"

You groaned again, moving to sit up. Lockwood instantly reached out, one hand on the small of your back and the other lifting the pillows to prop up behind you. "Been better."

Under any other circumstances, you think he'd probably have laughed. As it was, he huffed out a breath and you spotted a brief tic in his jaw. "That's a mild way of putting it. You collapsed in the middle of training. I had no idea what happened, I thought…" His gaze dropped to his lap as he trailed off. The silence clenched tightly around your heart. Eventually, he spoke again, still not looking at you, voice cracking and barely above a whisper. "I was so worried about you."

The tension in your chest pressed down further, and you thought you actually heard your heart shatter.

"Hey, Lockwood, look at me." You raised a hand, still trembling but for an entirely new reason, up to cup his cheek. At last, he looked. Those beautiful dark eyes were watery, and his nose ruffled as he tried to hold back the tears. "I'm okay, see? I'm here, I'm okay, and I'm so sorry for making you worry."

A warmth spread over the back of your hand as he brought his up to meet it. His fingers curled over yours, thumb rubbing calmingly across your knuckles. Whether the calming was for you or him, you couldn't say. "But are you sure you're okay? People don't just collapse like that, and you've been out all day." Your eyes widened a little as you glanced at your alarm clock. Almost 6. Wow.

"Honestly, it's nothing serious. Kind of stupid, actually; the irony is it all happened because I didn't want you to worry." That made him chuckle. That was promising. You continued. "I was ill - I don't know if it was a cold or flu or what - but that wasn't great to begin with, and then with it ruining my ability to eat and sleep I just… didn't have anything left to give."

You don't know what reaction you expected from Lockwood: frustration, confusion, disappointment perhaps. You certainly weren't expecting him to look quite so… guilty? "Why didn't you say something when I came to find you? We could have cancelled training." It came out sharper than you were expecting. Oh. There was where the guilt came in.

"I didn't want to break the tradition."

"To hell with the tradition if this is what it does to you!"

You faltered. Was it just your current condition, or had your mouth gone very dry? "Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" You took a steadying breath. "It's not just that. I don't mean it like it's some obligation. I love our sessions! Getting to have that time just for us, having it be our thing, it's the highlight of my week. And it's been a pretty shitty week so I wanted this one thing to be nice."

The fire in Lockwood's words died out, and he almost visibly deflated. His free hand reached up unexpectedly to brush a strand of hair from your face.

"Well, I'm glad it means that much to you, but next time will you please tell me when something's wrong? I can survive missing our date more than I can survive missing you."

Hold on.

You were definitely still ill. Your cheeks felt warm and your heart was pounding against your ribcage. That was the only possible explanation. Definitely nothing to do with the fact that the boy you'd been in love with for months had just called your training sessions a date. Oh god, you'd infected him too, his face was flushed. "Date?" you breathed.

"Only if you want it to be, of course, I don't want to jump to conclusions. Although you did call me 'pretty boy' barely five minutes ago, so I'm sure even George would agree with the legitimacy of my hypothesis." Oh, how you'd missed seeing that smirk he'd grown all of a sudden.

"I'm not entirely sure you can take the high ground on this one, love, when you said even more recently how you couldn't survive without me."

"I think so long as I'm right I can. Especially since, if we're going off who said something last, you couldn't even argue without calling me love."

"I wish we were still holding rapiers, I've got a chance of beating you at that."

Lockwood laughed, all earlier emotions replaced with nothing but tender affection. "Get some sleep, and then we can test that theory." He made to leave, but where your hands were still entwined you tightened your grip a little.

"Will you stay? Please? In case I didn't make it clear enough with fainting, I haven't been doing so great at the whole sleep thing."

When he nodded, you wriggled over to one side of the bed, allowing him to slip under the covers behind you. Everything about him felt cosy, and you snuggled towards that feeling. It took him aback for a moment until he draped an arm over your stomach, gently tugging you closer so the two of you slotted together like you'd been designed to fit one another from the start. His breath tickled your ear, but its constant rhythm slowed yours in turn. Your eyelids grew heavy.

"You know," you mumbled sleepily, "you could take me on a proper date. Only if you want to, of course, wouldn't want to jump to conclusions."

He squeezed you playfully. "I think I've got enough evidence to consider it. Lunch tomorrow if you feel up to it?" You hummed a contented agreement. As your eyes drifted shut, a feather-light kiss pressed against your temple. "Good night, love."

"Good night, pretty boy."

#lockwood & co fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #gn!reader #lockwood & co

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ashtheketchum · 1 year ago

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A new family Part 7

A/N: I kind of conceived an idea as I'm currently writing the final chapters. Many of you like this story, but since it's coming to an end soon, I thought I'd keep writing little scenarios with this concept For example: How they would spend a time in winter or something like that- (Picture from Pinterest)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Warnings: Mention of alcohol, Daryl is a softie

Masterlist!

______________________________________

PoV Daryl:

I had called for (Y/N) and (D/N) because (D/N) was tired and should go to bed. I didn't actually mean to exclaim, but it just came out that way. However, before I could correct myself, (D/N) walked towards me with a bright smile and she weakly grabbed my hand. "Come with me, Daryl!" She said cheerfully. I gently squeezed her hand before we set off. (Y/N) and I helped her daughter with this. At some point we arrived and I looked into their room.

It only had a small bed and a couch. Somehow it felt wrong since I had a big bed and a couch. Before (D/N) could enter the room, I grabbed her shoulder. "Ya´ can sleep in ma room. I have more space…” I then murmured quietly. I looked at (Y/N), who looked at me uncertainly for a moment, but then nodded slightly. She grabbed the bags of herself and (D/N) before going out.

PoV (Y/N):

Daryl led us into his room, which actually had more space. A huge double bed and a couch that you could spread out. (D/N) immediately limped into the room and she threw herself on the bed. "This is the biggest room I've ever seen!" She then said happily. I had to smile, I hadn't seen her this happy in a long time. Daryl pushed me in gently. I looked back at him briefly, but he had turned his face away so he didn't have to look at me. "Thank you…" I just mumbled quietly. He just nodded slightly before I also went to the bed.

Daryl had left the room so I could get (D/N) ready for sleep. She cleaned herself again and changed into more comfortable clothes while I got the bed ready and turned off the lights. Only a small lamp was still burning. "I'm done!" She said happily as she came out. She slowly came towards me with her crutches before leaning them against the wall and lying down in bed. "I'm happy to be here…" (D/N) muttered as I tucked her in. "Me too… get some sleep now, I'll be outside for a while…" Before I could stand up, (D/N) grabbed my top. "Mom… I like Daryl…" Her eyes grew heavier as she said that. I sighed briefly before kissing her forehead. "I like him too… but now go to sleep, okay?" And with these words I stood up and went out.

Daryl was apparently waiting for me outside, because when I closed the door, he stood up straight and looked at me. "Is she ´sleep?" He asked. My heart warmed at the question. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he cared about us. At least about (D/N). So I nodded slightly and tilted my head briefly towards the door. "Yeah… do you want to say goodnight to her?" Daryl hesitated briefly. I couldn't see the exact emotion on his face, but then he nodded slightly. I opened the door quietly and Daryl stepped into the room. He walked quietly and slowly towards the bed until I heard him kneel down quietly.

PoV Daryl:

(Y/N) had closed the door slightly so that the bright light wouldn't shine into the room. I could see enough to get to the bed and I looked at (D/N) briefly. She just mumbled under her breath, which made me snort briefly. "Goodnigh´, lil´ brat…" I then murmured quietly. (D/N) hummed briefly before opening her eyes slightly. A tired smile played on her lips before she gently reached for my hand. I gently squeezed her hand again. "Good night, Daryl… I love you…" She then yawned softly before closing her eyes again and falling back asleep.

I remained silent for a moment, still holding her small hand, before I let go and left the room again. Once I was outside, (Y/N) closed the door again and she smiled slightly but looked at the ground. "She really likes you…" she then said. All I could do was stay still. I didn't know how to react to that. “I notice…” I then said. (Y/N) giggled quietly before going back to the others. I didn't move for a moment before I went to her. There was silence between us for a moment before we stood at the door frame to the others.

"I don't want to be rude…" (Y/N) started quietly. I looked at her, but we continued walking to the others. Her steps were slow, her voice was quiet so only I could hear her. "…but you're welcome to be part of our little family." She then said and smiled lovingly at me. I felt my heart stop for a moment and I tensed up slightly. What kind of control did this woman have over me? "Thanks…" I just mumbled quietly before we reached the others.

PoV (Y/N):

We continued to celebrate for a while, but the group continued to dwindle. First Lori, Rick and Carol went to their rooms, then Shane left, who looked very drunk, and then Dale and Glenn left. Andrea, Tdog, Daryl and Jacqui were only there when I said goodbye too. "Don't stay awake too long…" I simply took the right to share my concerns about the group as well.

They all looked at me gratefully for a moment before wishing me goodnight. I slowly went to Daryl's room where (D/N) was sleeping. Before I could open the door, I heard someone running towards me. Well, it was more like jogging. I turned around and saw Daryl walking towards me. He was swaying a little and had a whiskey bottle in his hand. Actually, I was always very afraid when someone came to me and my daughter with a bottle of alcohol. But Daryl seemed different. "Are you going to sleep yet?" I then asked quietly. Daryl just grumbled under his breath before shaking his head. "Wanted ta get ma ´hings out of there… I'll sleep in yar room." He slurred quietly to himself.

I just nodded silently before I quietly opened the door and went to the table lamp to turn it on. (D/N) continued to sleep soundly, I could hear her calm breathing. Daryl went to his backpack and grabbed it before heading to the door. "Daryl…!" I had to stop myself for a moment because my voice got a little louder. Luckily (D/N) continued to sleep and Daryl stayed still. He watched me walk up to him and gently take his backpack from him. “You’re welcome to… sleep here…” I then offered him. "Ya sure?" I could hear uncertainty in his voice. I nodded slightly at his question, with a gentle smile. "Yes…"

Daryl remained silent for a moment. His blue eyes were a little darker than they should have been, but they also shimmered slightly. The redneck then nodded slightly and I put his bag next to the couch. Daryl went into the bathroom to change into more comfortable clothes while I did the same by the couch. Somehow I was incredibly nervous; I hadn't slept in the same bed with a man for a long time. So I left my bra on as a precaution. When I was finished, I knocked softly on the bathroom door to let Daryl know I was ready.

The redneck came out of the bathroom and looked at me wearily. I smiled softly before making my way to the bed. However, Daryl didn't follow me, instead he walked towards the couch. "Daryl… there's still enough room here…" Even though I was scared, I wanted to keep him close. Even in sleep. Daryl looked at me, shocked but also tired. He then put the whiskey bottle away and slowly walked towards us. He carefully knelt on the bed and looked at me questioningly. "´re ya sure…?" I nodded slightly and smiled tiredly at him. I was used to the smell of alcohol anyway, so it wouldn't matter to me and (D/N) because she was used to the smell too.

Daryl murmured a quiet thank you before we lay down. (D/N) and Daryl lay on the sides while I lay in the middle. I immediately pulled (D/N) closer to me and I kissed her head gently. She immediately snuggled closer to me. "Goodnight, Daryl…" I murmured quietly and closed my eyes. "Goodnigh´… (Y/N)…" He then murmured too.

I slowly reached behind me for Daryl's hand to pull him closer to me. But he immediately withdrew his hand. I was briefly disappointed, but I also understood. Maybe it was a little too fast. But before I could think about it any further, I felt him wrap his arm around me and pull me against his chest. He buried his face in my shoulder. Smiling softly, I snuggle closer to him.

-> Next Chapter

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl twd #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine

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kitixie · 2 years ago

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Little Girl Gone (pt 4)

synopsis: After a night at the Shelby house, you're left feeling wanting.

information: this chapter is a little shorter than the last, but i promise the next one will make up for it!!

word count: 1.4k

warnings: sexual content, minors dni, cursing

taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude, @globetrotter28, please let me know if youd like to be tagged!

thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my story. this is my first time writing something longer than two parts, and it makes my heart warm knowing that people enjoy it. <3

You slept peacefully that night for the first time in a long time. It had been ages since you slept fully through the night, always waking up from some bad dream or a strange noise in your house. But next to Tommy, you felt nothing but safe and content. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and that’s partially what woke you. Your eyes peeled open, slowly but surely adjusting to the sunlight that was entering the room. A soft yawn escaped your mouth, and you moved to see if you could read the clock on his bedside table. It was only 7, so you decided to try and go back to sleep for a few more hours, or at least until your bed companion woke up on his own. Carefully shimmying your way back to the warm spot you had been sleeping in, you felt Tommy drape his arm back over your side. He pulled you closer, mumbling in his sleep. Just as he finally was settling back down, you felt something hard pressing into your lower back.

‘That isn’t… is it?’ You thought, feeling a burst of heat rush to your face.

You tried to be as still as you could so you wouldn’t wake Tommy, but he was poking your back quite hard. You laid still for as long as you could manage, and then shifted your hips away from him, leaving your upper body in the same spot. Finally free from the pain of his cock in your back, you started to drift back to sleep, with absolutely foul thoughts circling your head.

“Mhm, Y/N. That feels good,” Tommy mumbled after a few minutes, just as you were tottering on the edge of consciousness.

You froze, suddenly coming back to full awareness, unable to fall back asleep.

Tommy had been awake the entire time, of course he’d never let you know that. He had woken up when you moved away from him, and he watched as you peered at the clock on the small table. He had tried every trick in the book to get his body to cooperate with him. So he closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep. He had thought of his grandmother, he had thought of dead dogs, he had tried every trick he could remember from his teenage years besides jerking his cock with his fist. He cursed himself silently when you scooted back against him, knowing that having your body pressed to his certainly wasn’t going to help his situation. He felt bad at first, then gave himself some grace. How could he possibly not get hard when he had you here, in his bed? You were so close to him, he could smell your hair, and count your breaths. He had thought of this incident so many times, that it almost didn’t seem real. He had dreamt of you in his bed with him, curling against his body during the night. Being the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning. He could feel you moving though, and as soon as the contact between both of your hips was gone, he began to fall back asleep. He had always fallen asleep fast, he just hoped he didn’t talk in his sleep this time like he normally did.

Tommy woke before you this time, only leaving the comfort of his bed when he was on the verge of pissing himself. He could’ve sworn he stayed in the toilet no longer than 5 minutes, but once he had returned to his room, he found his bed empty.

You had been woken by the creak of bed springs as Tommy got up. Remembering the events from earlier that morning, you decided that you weren’t ready to face him yet; even thinking of it made you blush. You quickly realized the time, and knew Pol would have breakfast going by now. Getting off the bed as quietly as possible, you slipped on your now dry clothes and hurried downstairs to the kitchen.

Sure enough, Pol stood over the stove stirring something in a pot.

“Y/N, come, sit. Breakfast is almost ready,” Pol said, giving you a small smile over her shoulder.

You nodded, even though she had already turned back around. You felt slightly bad for leaving Tommy alone, but dealing with him in front of Pol would be hard enough for you, much less dealing with him alone in the confines of his bedroom.

Pol played whatever it was she had cooked, just as Tommy came down the stairs. He had changed from his pajamas into his everyday clothes, a pair of pressed slacks, a white shirt and a vest, accessorized with his golden pocket watch. He offered you a sly smile, which made you gulp. Once you realized he was staring, you gave a small smile back. As Pol placed the food in front of you, you began to struggle with your imagination. Every time Tommy would bend over, or look down, or hell, even put food in his mouth, your brain turned it into something obscene. Thinking about his fingers going all of your body, exploring you like an unknown territory. His mouth, pressing warm kisses to your shoulder and breast. His hips, thrusting to hit yours while he bent you over his desk. Your face flushed, and suddenly your appetite was gone.

“Pol, breakfast was great. Thank you,” you swallowed. “And, thank you Tommy, for letting me stay. But I-, uh, I need to go home. I’ll see you both soon!” You said, collecting your coat from the bench seat and giving them a wave as you spun out of the door.

Once finally home, you could relax. You changed into clean clothes, and put on a pot of tea. You sat on your couch, reviewing all of the moments that had happened between you and Thomas over the past twenty-four hours. The almost-kiss, the office confession, the sleep-over, then the mornings erection. You felt your face heat, and a frustrated groan came from your throat. You were tired of being teased. You were a grown woman, if Tommy wouldn’t move on you, you could just do it yourself.

You moved to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you removed your socks and stockings, and then laid back onto your mountain of pillows. You began to let your imagination run wild, picturing Tommy standing over you, giving you instruction. You slowly unbuttoned the top of your shirt, letting one hand slide to your breast. As that hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, the other slid down your waist. You bunched up your skirt, allowing your finger to trace over your folds beneath your underwear. You could hear Tommy’s voice clearly in your head.

‘take them off, Y/N.”

So you did.

You slid off your panties and let them drop to the floor. Your hand now having full access to the most delicate part of your body. Your slim fingers toyed with the folds, eventually moving to your sweet spot. You moved them back and forth rapidly, all while imaging they were Tommy’s hands instead of your own. You kept this up, kept rubbing and circling until you felt a bubble start to build in your stomach. You drove two fingers inside yourself, imagining it was his cock this time. That thought alone made the bubble swell, coming to a head. Still toying with your breast, and still visualizing Tommy sliding in and out of you, the bubble burst.

“Tommy!” you said, voice somewhere between a whisper and a moan.

You could feel your own fluid coating your fingers, and your nipple was now sore, but it had been worth it. All of the built up tension between you and him had to be resolved, even if you were resolving it by yourself.

After your little session, you decided on a nap. You hadn’t meant to sleep so long, but when you were woken by your doorbell at 6 pm, you realized your mistake. Quickly hopping out of bed, you noticed the long forgotten pot of tea on the counter, now grown cold. You peaked in the mirror in the bathroom, smoothing your hair with your hands, as the doorbell rang again.

“Oi, one bloody second!” You shouted, still groggy from your nap.

You finally made your way to the door, pulling it open. Standing on the other side, was none other than Mr. Shelby himself.

“What’re ya doin’ here, Tommy?” You asked, trying to nonchalantly lean against the door frame.

“Thought I’d come cook you dinner, if that’s alright?” He said, giving a slight nod.

You slightly bowed, moving out of the way of the door.

“Come on in,” You said, hoping that maybe you’d finally get some answers.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinder fanfic

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brilium · 2 years ago

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❥ K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 3

Masterlist

➽──────────❥

❥ DAY 5. Clothed Sex! with Jean Kirstein

Summary. You're a pain in the ass for Jean, and for you? He's a nuisance before meeting up with Eren for a hook up. Fortunately, the two best students of Dr. Smith are smart (or horny) enough to find a middle point where they can do more than fighting.

Content Warning.Fem! reader, no use of Y/N, all characters are adults, smut, fingering, masturbation (f. recieving), vaginal sex, teasing, edging.

Word count. 3,169.

Author’s note. This was kinda hard to write since I'm rlly used to write about Jean but I tried to keep his personality as I wrote it hehe

MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT !!

Jean kept talking about something about God knows what. At this point you aren’t trying to pay attention anymore while you play with the border of your high socks on your thigh, thinking of maybe cutting it to get rid of the ugly rids of the past dye color that you still have.

Doctor Smith knew that you had potential, but you just weren’t interested in attending class or at least paying attention to him the few times that you showed up to class. So he had to try another way to make you learn.

And what’s better than pairing you for the final project with the top class student Jean Kirstein? Well, it was better for you and a total migraine for him.

The clock kept ticking on the isolated study room while Jean kept talking and typing on his laptop hoping that you were at least awake.

“I can work on the first part of the theoretical framework while you…” Jean raises his head to look at you clearly ignoring him and sighs. “Are you even listening to me?”

You huff, leaning on your elbows resting on the table and turning slightly to look at him beside you, Jean rolls his eyes when you just can yawn in response and nod sleepy while you tap quickly on your phone.

“Yeah, you’ll do the theoretical shit and all that stuff. Just tell me what’s my part and I’ll send it to you later, ’kay?” He swears on the low and shakes his head at your comment, you just giggle at your phone ignoring him and typing again.

Jean has a very low patience. Really Low.

So he extends his hand to grab your phone and toss it on the table to grab your attention, but before his hand finally grabs it, the picture on your phone calls for his attention.

Apparently, you weren’t paying attention to your damn final project because you were chatting with Eren Jaeger to drop at his dorm later. If Jean was already mad, knowing that the reason that his partner was ignoring him it’s because she was telling that idiot how you’re counting the minutes that you both reserved the study room to end so he can finally fuck her made him go furious.

“What the fuck!? Are you really making plans with Jaeger right now!?”

You startle, turning your whole body at him feeling the hot warmth growing on your cheeks and —finally— putting your phone down.

“Why are you looking at my phone in the first place?” You stand up, shoving violently the chair behind you. “I don’t even care about this damn final project. Fuck it— I’m done with this.”

Jean is faster than you in trying to leave and stands up too to grab your wrist and hold you from leaving. His grip is tight, not enough to hurt you but for as much as you shake your wrist in a try to get free, he keeps holding you.

“You won’t leave until we’ve finished this shit!” Jean pulls your wrist closer to him, making you look up at him to hold his gaze. “I need the credits to keep my scholarship and I won’t let you ruin it for me.”

“I don’t care about your stupid scholarship” You hiss, looking firmly at his eyes and laughing cynically. “Move away or I’ll scream”.

“You’ll scream?” Jean snorts, his free hand going up to your chin and forcing you to look at him. This time, the grip is a little bit rougher, his fingers pressing on both of your cheeks to keep you firm. “Go on, scream, scream as loud as you want. Anyways, scream and whine it’s the only thing you can do, right? That’s why you’re hooking up with Jaeger”.

Your eyes go wide as your hand grabs the neck of his shirt tightly, bringing him closer and feeling his warmth breath against your face. He’s talking out of his anger, but you’re reaching your limit too.

“Yeah, Jaeger it’s pretty good at making me scream, whine and beg for more. I guess that you use that as an insult just because you’ve never been with a girl.” You pout to take a fake sad tone of voice. “Get your nose out from the books and taste the real world, Kristein”.

“Really bold of you to tell me that when you are the total opposite of me” Jean slightly turns his head to the side, his grip on your chin got lighter but his face is closer.

"So you admit that you’re a virgin?” You snort, leaning your head to the opposite side, too.

“Try it for yourself and let’s see who is the wrong one”.

Jean doesn’t even give you time to answer when his hand on your chin already traveled to the back of your neck and grabbed your face against his into a kiss. You whimper against his lips, feeling weak legs and having to hold his shoulders for support.

It’s hard for you to admit how good a kisser he is, his lips sucking on your so sweetly and passing his tongue slowly through your lower lip in a try to join his tongue to the kiss. It gets harder for you to resist as his hands slowly slide down through your body to play with the border of your skirt on your waist.

By pride, you try to keep it like a simple kiss but his hands go up to stop on the verge of your shirt and squeezing the skin of your waist causes you to whimper and let him finally use his tongue.

He’s holding you firmly as you both continue, he groans softly when he pulls back and you grab him to bring him again to you. Your breathing is hard and your legs tremble as his hands slowly caress you under your shirt, teasing you by just barely touching the lower part of your breasts and passing softly your thumb against your nipples above the material of your bra.

“Are you scared to touch some boobs for the first time? Is that so?” You tease, throwing your head back as he starts to kiss your neck and push you gently to the table, noticing how you were changing from leg to leg to keep standing and letting you lie a little on the cold surface.

Jean chuckles and bites softly on your neck, kissing it and feeling how good your back arches under him. The movement of your body lets you feel his hard crotch touching softly your stomach, causing you both to groan by how sensitive you are already.

Jean sucks hard on your neck before answering, making you squirm on the cold surface with a soft whine.

“Nah, I just want to let Jaeger believe that you were needy for him when I actually got you ready” He winked at you and you chuckled in response.

“Fuck you. In your drea—” Jean thrusts between your legs, almost making you let out a lewd moan, but you bite your lower lip on time to not let him get what he wants.

You're about to swear at him and tell him that he's an idiot, but his thumbs curl at the border of your skirt and start to toss it down, revealing slowly more of your skin and making you shiver. Jean is impatient and hard right now, at the point to stop pulling it down at the level of the middle of your calves when he notices that you weren't wearing any underwear. He has to bite his lip to not moan at the sight of your soaked pussy already clenching to feel him inside.

So you were so whiny before because of that, huh?

His hand travels between your folds to caress your entrance and feel your fluids moistening his fingers, he opens his mouth to say the dirtiest thing about the pool between your thighs thanks to the absence of underwear, but you speak before he can say anything.

“Don’t say it” You struggle to talk, moaning softly as the dip of his fingers teases you. “My initial plan was to meet Eren after finishing this shit—”

Even though he’s wearing jeans. with the fabric as a barrier between you both, his thrust really got you trembling in arousal for feeling more. The fold of his zipper teases you so bad as he grinds slowly between thrusts, rubbing on your clit with the right fucking peace.

Your lip is starting to get a taste of iron between your teeths by how hard you are biting yourself to hold the moans but when he grabs the border of your high sock to pull it and let it go back to your skin with a soft slap. You let go a cute and small whimper as he does the same with the other leg.

“Huh? Did I hear something?” He asks, using a fake surprised tone as he thrusts, your lower lip holds it again, but your muffled moans against your hands says the opposite. “Again! What could it be? Rats?”

He keeps wondering about your noises and strangled moans, between every question it comes a thrust that has you trembling and shutting your eyes with a strength that has you almost seeing lights.

“J–Jean!” You whine through a moan, your voice coming out high pitched and making him grin with pride.

“Yes?” He smiles down at you, some strings of his hair falling on his face and sticking on his forehead.

He stopped thrusting to see how you struggle to breathe and your swollen lower lip is trembling, calling for his lips to get it to a worse state. But there's a bigger swollen pain between his legs. His boxers definitely are stained with a wet spot of precum, all the thrusting play got him sensitive too.

But he doesn’t want to be the one giving up first.

You murmur very softly three words that throw your pride to the floor, Jean clearly hears them as music to his ears.

“Can you repeat it more clearly, dear? Just to be sure that I hear someone whining and begging my name"

“I won’t. Just put it already—”

Jean introduced two fingers inside you before you could keep fighting, his fingers are long. Fucking long. So you are already squirming and biting your hand to hold the moans as he keeps fingering you and filling the room with the wet sounds of your cunt dripping on the table.

Fuck, now I understand why no one comes to the study rooms.

Then, your phone pops with a notification. Definitely is a message from Eren and you have to take a deep breath, trying to get a coherent sentence out from your mouth filled with the sounds of your pussy clenching around Jean’s fingers.

“J–Jean, please— Let me answer Eren.”

“Hmm? I didn’t asked you to say his fucking name right now” His fingers get a quicker peace, curling on the weak spot inside you that causes your back to arche and leave a hard bite mark on your hand to hold the lewd sound coming from your mouth. “I asked you to repeat what you said before that.”

Even in your current state, breathing hard and with a hot feeling pooling on your chest of your incoming orgasm, you deny with your head. Your pride was thrown away since you started moaning his name, what is stopping you right now is only the embarrassment of admitting that your pussy is clenching for him.

Jean is not really happy with your answer, sighing and pulling away his hands from you to sit again in front of his laptop, trying to fix his hair as he sighs, pretending to focus again on the screen. You whine in response, feeling a mix of emotions inside you: anger, sadness, disappointment. Everything at the same time.

“Why did you stop!? You’re fucking hard, I can see it even through your jeans!” The tone of your voice is unstable, trembling and feeling like your orgasm is about to go away. “Come on, Jean!”

Jean chuckles, his hand touching softly his thigh up and down to heal the pain a little.

“I won’t fuck you if you don’t ask for it.”

This motherfucker.

“If you ask me to fuck you,” Jean continues, unbulcking his belt to pull down a little his jeans and boxers at the same time, he’s needy as much as you that by the only feeling of the fabric passing through his aching dick makes him groan “I’ll do your part of the project, even if Doctor Smith doubts my words, I’ll convince him that we did it together.”

You already forgot about the damn project. But, the desperation of needing those credits to pass the semester joined to the desperation of needing to cum lead you to get off of the table and sit on his lap with struggle caused by your shaking. You hold his shoulder with one hand as you positionate your entrance above his hard crotch with your other hand to hold his base and put his dip right on the entry of your wet cunt.

“Please… Fuck me” You whisper desperately as your cheeks are a turning into a burning red, doing your best to hold his gaze as he chuckles and grabs firmly your hips, he licks his lips and smiles before answering.

“As you order.”

Jean bites his lip and pushes your hips down roughly, making you let out a bit too high a moan as his hard length stretches you out. In your thoughts, the fear of someone hearing you is forgotten, you just want him to start thrusting as hard as he was doing before, putting you in a worse state than before.

He doesn’t seem to care either. Jean’s moans are vibrating against the crook of your neck, using all his strength to hold himself from the need to mark you up.

But using Eren’s toy without him knowing feels so good.

“Fuuuck—” Jean groans against your neck as you move back and forwards on his lap, his nails are marking you under your sweater to keep you taking him as deep as you can while you move your hips. “This pussy is so fucking tight and wet for me, huh?”

You nod, you don’t know at what you are been agreeding, you just are tasting every second and thrust of how good it feels his cock hitting on you. Jean grabs your waist more firmly to lift you slightly so he can bring his hips up to thrust with more strength everytime he slams on you.

The soft moans coming out from your mouth when his curvature starts to hit on your sensitive spot are being held on the shoulder of his shirt, holding it so hard that you might rip it. The sweet release of your orgasm is coming from the foreplay, Jean notices it, so he picks you up to pull you out of him and put you again on the table.

Obviously, he pushes his laptop aside to put you on the table. In his desperation of getting inside you again, the laptop almost falls from it and you gasp almost scared.

“Jean! Your laptop!” You try to advertise him, but his dick getting inside you again makes you hold a breath in surprise as he starts to thrust again. The table is shaking almost violently as he hits hard on your pussy. “I–Idiot! It’s g-going to fall!—”

He ignores you, lifting a little of your sweater to hold your waist firmly on the table, exposing a little bit of your abdomen for him. You whimper at the cold feeling of the material, squeezing him harder and he lets out a weak whine in response.

“I don’t care, you’re about to cum, I feel it.” Although Jean’s comment, his thrusts lose their quick peace, but every hit is harder and deeper. Your hands travel above your head to hold the border of the table, torturing your lower lip to hold the moans. “Cum for me, cum all over my cock—”

His order resonates on your brain so hard along with his thrusts that you moan his name against the back of your hand as you squirm and shake when your orgasm hits you. All your body burns on his thrust trying to keep the same strength with your walls squeezing him.

“J–Jean…!” He keeps hitting inside you to let you ride your orgasm as long as you can, loving the sound of your whines and soft moans. You don’t want him to pull out for anything in the world “C–Cum inside, please!”

But he denies with his head, pulling out from you when he feels his orgasm about to explode and pumping his length up and down above you, throwing the white lines of his cum on your exposed stomach that slowly start to drip down to your swollen cunt.

He breathes hard, holding the table at the sides of your legs trying to recover. You are almost in the same state, breathing hard while you look at the dark bite marks on your hand. “W–Why didn't you cum inside? It’s okay for me.”

“Nah,” He laughs breathly, straightening up as he smiles, fixing his jeans and fixing his shriveled shirt and looking for something inside his backpack, moving this around until he grabs a pack of tissues and hands you one. “I wanted Jaeger to believe that he’s the only one giving you a good orgasm today.”

You snort, taking the tissue to clean your abdomen and fix your appearance too, biting your lip remembering that you’re still on plans to see Eren later.

“What makes you believe that that was a good orgasm?”

“The dark marks on your hand say otherwise” He smiles, grabbing his laptop from the border and sitting on the chair again, ready to start working again.

He literally had you cumming on that spot before and now he's typing again like nothing happened? Fucking nerd. You think with a smile as you grab your things and look at the messages from Eren.

“Are you sure that you can do it alone? I can stay a little longer if you want.” It’s weird to hear you wanting to help on it, but he shakes his head smiling and looks up at you.

”I think that if you stay here, we won’t get this thing finished in time.”

You smirk, walking to the door and stopping on it before leaving, turning to him with a soft blush on your cheeks.

“Only for curiosity” You balance on your feets, playing with your fingers. “I also need a partner for a presentation for the class with Professor Ackerman. Do you want to…?”

Jean smiles, winking at you as he answers.

“See you next week in the same room? I'll go all the way in so don't make plans with that idiot".

@softlilpeachxx

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #brilium #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #snk x reader #jean x reader #jean smut #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein smut

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skzhocomments · 5 months ago

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The Rising Empress (Bang Chan) - Chapter 4 - The Bearer of Bad News

General Masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 (coming soon)

Taglist: @vxllxnsworld

---

Chapter 4 - The Bearer of Bad News

Chapter word count: 1.8k words

“This humble maid greets His Majesty, Sun of the Empire.” Mari bows with utmost respect to Chris, who quickly asks her to raise her head.

“What is the Empress up to these days?” He asks her, paying attention to the slight disgust plastered across her face. Truth is, he expected Aristia to warm up to someone, at least to her personal maid, but judging by the strong response of the maid’s body language, it’s clear that she didn’t.

“… Not much. She takes a walk every midday through the gardens, but other than that, she stays locked in her room. She writes, eats-”

“Writes?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. She’s taken a liking to writing as of late.”

“What does she write exactly? Letters?” Chris asks, his heart thumping in his chest. Is she perhaps informing the King of the South about any of the Empire’s affairs?

“No. Stories. What they contain, however, is not something I am aware of.”

“I see. Could you bring me some of her writings?” He furrows his brows in confusion. He still believes she is a spy for her family, and the fact that she hasn’t yet sent any reports back to the Kingdom is surprising to say the least.

“I am afraid not. She keeps them locked in her drawers and carries the key at all times around her neck.”

“I see. Thank you, Mari.”

The girl bows and turns to leave, before Chris remembers something.

“Ah, one more thing. I noticed something unpleasant looking at the Empress the other day. Her garments are dirty. Is there an issue I should know about?” He raises an accusatory eyebrow and watches the maid’s mannerisms carefully.

“… No, Your Majesty. I will make sure Her Highness’s attire will be more appropriate from now on.”

“Yeah. Do that.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

The next morning, Aristia wakes up to her maid frantically buzzing around the room, carrying multiple dresses on her arms.

“What’s with all this fuss?” She groans and sits up on the bed, trying to make sense of what is happening.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. I am to prepare you for breakfast, as His Highness has requested your presence.”

“Mhm.” She nods, before the words fully register in her head. “Wait, what? Why?”

“Apologies, but I don’t have any additional information. His Majesty’s personal guard is waiting for you.”

Still confused and groggy with sleep, Aristia stands up and makes her way to the dresses. With a yawn, she analyses all of them, and choses a pastel yellow dress with flowers made of lace scattered all over, with puffy sleeves. The dress is comfortable and breezy, much like the ones she’s worn until now. Only, this dress is not dirty, nor shabby, nor old.

It fits her right, besides around the hips, where excess fabric covers up her silhouette. The dress would’ve been perfect when she first arrived in the Empire and had her measurements taken, but now, it’s loose fitting, a reminder of the fact that she’s become malnourished. She decides to wear a tight corset to make it look a bit more her size, and she successfully hides how much weight she’s lost.

As soon as she’s done dressing herself, she steps out on the hallways and sees a familiar face. She smiles, genuinely this time.

“Hello, Changbin.”

“Your Highness.” He bows and returns her smile. “You remembered my name.”

“Of course I did. What have you been up to these days? I haven’t seen you around.” She asks as they start walking towards the gardens, where the Emperor apparently wants to have breakfast with her.

“I’ve just returned from a trip abroad to the Western Kingdom.”

“Oh, was it fun?” She asks, and Changbin looks puzzled. He’s never been asked if a diplomatic trip was fun, so he doesn’t quite know what to reply.

“I guess so? It went alright. I had to guard Prince Felix as he’s been sent to represent the Empire in some negotiations.”

“What for?” Aristia questions, glad that for the first time, someone is not sparing any details.

“As you might know, sugar canes only grow in the west. Oh, in case Your Highness is not aware, sugar canes are used for-”

“Producing raw and refined sugar and molasses. Yes, I know.” She cuts him off with a kind smile and he seems excited.

“Exactly! I had no idea sugar came from that tall grass!” He exclaims, making her laugh.

“Yes, I read in a book about the process of extracting juice by crushing the sugar cane. Oh, do you know that rum is actually made from that juice or from molasses?”

“Rum?”

“The drink.”

“What is that? Does it taste any good?”

“Don’t you have it here?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

“No, I don’t believe we do.”

“It’s an alcoholic beverage… It apparently tastes quite sweet, as it’s made from fermented molasses. I actually don’t know what it tastes like either. Since the Kingdom doesn’t produce any sugar canes, I could only read about it.”

“I see. Your Highness seems quite intelligent.” He compliments.

“Did I seem dull until now?” Aristia asks in a serious tone, and Changbin starts apologising instantly.

“No! Of course not! God, what have I said? Of course, you always seemed intelligent. You’re my Empress and-” He rambles and Aristia bursts out laughing.

Having a genuine conversation with someone who doesn’t seem to view her as an enemy is refreshing.

“Oh.” Changbin blushes.

“I thought you would’ve been served some rum in the west.”

“Maybe Prince Felix… I haven’t been given any.” He pouts slightly, and Aristia laughs again.

“Speaking of, how is he doing? Did he find the trip difficult? Is he healthy?”

“Yes, the Prince is as cheerful as always. He was, however, quite disappointed that he didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to you after your wedding. Now that he’s back, Your Highness will probably not be able to get rid of him.”

“Oh, my.” Aristia smiles as they eventually reach a small greenhouse in the middle of the garden.

Changbin keeps guiding her to the table, and as they approach, Aristia notices Chris and Felix talking lively about something. The closer they get, the more she realises Felix is telling his brother details about the trip.

“You’re here.” Chan’s lips turn into a thin line, but the girl chooses to ignore his hostility and focus on Felix’ smiling face instead.

She salutes the two with a bow then sits down with Changbin’s help.

“Sister, you look so beautiful. I love how your dress looks.” Felix compliments, his smile radiating as much as the sun’s rays.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, how was your trip?”

“I was just telling Chris about it. The people of the west are quite nice! I had an amazing time, and we managed to score the deal with the-” Felix speaks but gets interrupted by Chris clearing his throat. He shuts up instantly and mutters a small “Sorry.”

Apparently, Aristia wasn’t supposed to know of this information either.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I was telling Chris about this gift they gave me. You all should try it. Changbin, I mean you as well. I know you didn’t get to taste any while we were there.” Felix resumes his happy stance and pulls out a small bottle out of his coat, pouring a brown liquid into four small glasses.

Rum.

Changbin grabs his glass with interest and tastes the liquid. As soon as it touches his tongue, he tastes sugar and alcohol, and he turns his head to Aristia.

“Is this the liquid you’ve been telling me about? What was it called… rum?”

“Have you had this before?” Felix asks, eyes sparkling with interest.

“No, I just… read about it in a book.” She smiles.

“Her Highness is so humble. She knows all about the way this drink is made.” Changbin starts boasting and telling the table all about their conversation, and with each word, Chris is looking more and more intensely at Aristia.

“Perhaps this knowledge will come in handy once we get the sugar cane seeds.” The Emperor says after a little while, shocking her.

He finally thinks she’s going to be useful at something, and although Aristia’s eyes grow wide for a short moment, she has some conflicting feelings about this matter.

“Anyways, we should get to eating. There are some matters I have to attend to after breakfast.” Chris continues.

After he says that, he looks towards the attendants on the side of the room who rush to bring all sorts of fresh salads, boiled and fried eggs, cheeses, salami and hams, as well as crackers and fresh fruit. For the first time in months, Aristia can eat a fresh breakfast, so she doesn’t hold herself back.

“This was so good!” Felix smiles gleefully, and both Chan and Aristia nod their heads in approval. He reminds her of a little kid, happy of everything, and unintentionally makes her smile.

“Felix, sorry about this, but would you please give us some time to talk privately?” Chris asks his brother, and he nods excitedly, thinking they finally started to get along.

He’s happy that his plan seemed to work. After all, he is the one who insisted that Aristia joins the two for breakfast, lunch and dinner from now on, after hearing that the Emperor never once shared a meal with his wife since the wedding.

He excuses himself, leaving Chris and Aristia alone.

“A letter from the Kingdom of the South arrived this morning.” The Emperor starts, and she instantly looks at him with dread. “It seems your father wants to come visit. He misses his precious daughter.”

“… When?” She asks, her body growing cold. She doesn’t want to see her father. She finally got away, she had a few months of peace. He hates trips. So… why?

Why is he coming here?

“In about one week from now. Seems he simply… informed us of his arrival, and what can we do but accommodate him?” Chan asks with a fake smile, irritated.

He dislikes the disrespect of someone announcing him they’re visiting instead of asking for permission, but he still has to play it nice while his troops undergo more training. The Kingdom of the South is known for their strong army, after all, and war over the emerald mine is sure to break out soon enough. He needs to buy more time.

“… Why did the letter get here so late?” Her hands start trembling slightly, so she moves them under the table. She’s forgotten what it felt like to be afraid, to walk on eggshells.

“Who knows? He must’ve sent it a bit before he decided to leave. I have a few meetings to attend, so I’m going to leave you to it. Oh, something else before I go. You are expected to join us for lunch and dinner as well, as per my dear brother’s request.”

Aristia nods absent-mindedly out of habit, but she barely hears his words.

Her father is coming.

Her head falls down, hair covering her face, as she shivers in place. One of her hands raises to her lips and she begins nervously biting her fingernails.

He can’t come here.

He can’t.

This place is safe…

Nothing will happen.

Yeah.

He wouldn’t dare hurt me here.

I am the Empress.

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 (coming soon)

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 4 months ago

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CS Winter Bingo--Square 6 (bundled up for the cold): A Match Faked for Christmas, ch. 5 of 5

Hi there and happy holiday season! In an attempt to continue procrastinating my season 4 rewatch drabbles–and to not feel guilty about it–I decided to participate in the CS Winter Bingo event. I received nine winter/holiday related prompts arranged in a square like a bingo card. My mission is to make a bingo by writing at least three of my prompts before winter is over, but I’m hoping to do better than that! I’m hoping to finish all nine! Given the nature of the event, you can expect a lot of fluff (but then what else would you expect from me, after all?) I’m hoping to keep them short as well, but I’m usually not nearly as successful at that. And without further ado, let’s play CS Winter Bingo!

Rating: G

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list):

@jennjenn615 @laschatzi @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @kmomof4

@linda8084 @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82

@therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

Word count: 2071

Today’s prompt: Fake Dating: Holiday Edition

Other chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

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

Emma closed her door and then sunk back against it. She was so epically, massively screwed!

After THE KISS (she couldn’t help but think of it in all caps), she and Killian had left the party rather hastily. Ruby’s catcalls and innuendos about what they were off to do ringing in their ears. They’d walked in silence across the street, and it wasn’t until they were in front of her door that Killian hesitantly spoke.

“Swan, perhaps we should talk about what just–”

She cut him off with a huge, exaggerated yawn, stretching her arms over her head to complete the effect. “I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Nevermind that it was only 8:30 pm. She had to get away. Had to. She couldn’t have this conversation now.

She saw the disappointment flash in his eyes for a moment, and then it disappeared. He took a step away and pasted a determined smile on his face. “Good night Swan. Sweet dreams.”

She assumed he headed back to his own house then, but she couldn’t know for sure. She didn’t wait around to find out, merely let herself into her own home as quickly as she could.

And now here she was.

Emma was running. She knew she was. That kiss had been….she didn’t even know how to describe it. It was addictive. It made the whole party fall away. There was no one else in the world but her and Killian at that moment. She’d swear she’d heard bells ringing, angels singing, felt a bright, warm light cover them in glory. She was pretty sure she’d touched heaven.

Emma groaned. This was not her. She was mentally spouting so many cliches, she’d have probably made Mary Margaret blush. What was Killian doing to her?

There had only been one time in her life that she’d fallen so fast and so hard for a guy. She’d been sixteen when a much-older Neal had convinced her that she mattered. That she was loved. That she had found home and forever and all of that crap.

And then he’d taught her a lesson she’d never forget. He’d not only left her, he’d literally left her holding the bag for his own crimes. Sent her to the slammer for almost a year.

What she’d learned? Love was a myth. Forever was a fairytale people told themselves to make themselves feel better in the midst of their crap lives.

Her brief relationship with Walsh years later–which had ended when he had an affair with a woman who had a truly bizarre fettish for flying monkeys–had only cemented her belief.

She really knew how to pick them, didn’t she?

And so she’d vowed to protect her heart. Look out for yourself and you’ll never get hurt. How had she let Killian slip past her defenses so thoroughly in only a week?

If she let this continue, if she didn’t cut things off cold turkey now, when things went south with Killian, it was going to hurt like a son of a bitch.

Something told her it might already be too late for her.

The tears sprang to her eyes, and she let them fall, as she moved away from the door, heading toward her master suite. She’d take a long, hot bath, and then go to bed, and tomorrow….tomorrow she’d avoid him like the plague–and she’d keep it up until she got him out of her system.

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

She was woken bright and early Christmas morning by the ringing of her doorbell. Emma groaned, covered her head with a pillow and tried to ignore it. Maybe whoever it was would get the hint and go away.

Riiiiiing! Knock!

No such luck.

Breathing threats and murder, she tossed off the covers and padded to the door. A woosh of cold air greeted her as she opened it, and he was there, covered in a thin coat of snow, wearing a delighted grin and bearing a steaming mug of something that smelled of coffee and chocolate and peppermint.

“Merry Christmas, Swan!” he said delightedly!

Unbidden, her eyes traveled to his lips and her heart stuttered.

It turned her annoyance into something approaching rage. “Killian, we’ve talked about what happens when people wake me up at the butt crack of dawn.”

He grinned mischievously as he pushed past her into her home, blew out a breath and muttered something about the cold. “Indeed. I believe the consensus was that my murder could be avoided by bribing you with hot, festive beverages.”

She smiled in spite of herself. Couldn’t help it. How he managed to convey both childlike wonder, devilish mischief and steaming sexiness all at the same time was a mystery to her.

“I really should just kick you out on your ass, you know,” she said, her voice conveying affectionate exasperation.

He shrugged, handed her the mug and began the long process of removing hats and scarves and gloves and coat. She barked a laugh at the sight of the ugly Christmas sweater beneath. It depicted a pirate ship full of festively clad pirates singing “Yo, ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!”

The ridiculous garment seemed to break whatever was left of the tension between them, and easily, almost effortlessly, they fell into the pattern they’d been following for the past week–talking and laughing and simply enjoying each other’s company. Emma made him pancakes and he cleaned up after them.

She’d been afraid the next time she saw Killian, he’d insist on continuing the conversation he’d started when they parted the night before. She’d been afraid he’d insist they talk about THE KISS and what it meant and where they went from there. Instead, he seemed to have judiciously chosen to ignore it; pretend it had never happened.

But it was there, always there between them, an unspoken presence both delightful and terrifying. They’d have to talk about it eventually, Emma knew that, but today was Christmas Day. That was a conversation for another day.

“Forgive me for stating the obvious, Swan,” he said, after their breakfast was over, “but it snowed last night.”

She grinned. “I noticed. Looks like we got quite a bit.”

“I bet there’s at least 6 inches out there and it’s still coming down!” A child who’d just found out he had a snow day from school couldn’t have sounded more excited.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you like snow?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he said. “It’s pretty and it’s fun…and then when you come in from the snow, you get to warm up.”

He wiggled his eyebrows in exaggerated flirtation at that, and she laughed.

“So how about it, Swan?” he said. “What say we build a snowman?”

“A snowman?” she said with a grin. “Killian, I haven’t built a snowman since I was like ten.”

“Well then’d I’d say you’re past due, love.”

“It’s cold!” she whined.

“We can bundle up,” he wheedled. “Come on Swan! If you can’t act like a child on Christmas morning, when can you?”

She felt the last of her resistance fading, and she sighed exaggeratedly. “Fine! But if I get frostbite, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

There was that smolder again. “Never fear, Swan. I’m more than capable of keeping you warm and keeping frostbite at bay.”

She shivered in reaction, her gaze moving once more to his lips, currently ticked up in a saucy smile. Good lord, the man was going to be the death of her, but what a way to die!

Five minutes later, clad in two hats, a pair of gloves topped by a pair of mittens, a fluffy red scarf and her heaviest coat, Emma headed outside with her neighbor.

After building not one but two snowpeople, (Emma insisted that the second one was a snowwoman. It was only fair.) Emma had stepped back to admire their work. A moment later she felt a snowball pelt her in the middle of the back.

“Oh no you did not!” she said, grinning and then stopping down to fashion her own missile.

“I’m afraid I did, love,” he grinned utterly unrepentant. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

What she did about it was fire a snowball directly into his (far too handsome) face.

And with that an all out snowball war broke out, but never was a war fought with more laughter or playful taunts. Ten minutes later, Emma picked up her newly made snowball and ran full tilt toward Killian. Just before reaching him, she slipped, falling directly into him. Her momentum toppled him, and the long and short of it was Emma found herself sprawled on top of Killian, both breathing hard, both looking into the other’s face with intensity.

The desire to lean down and kiss the hell out of him was so strong, it took everything inside Emma to pull away, wipe the desire from her face and offer him a hand up.

He looked disappointed for a fraction of a second before the grin returned. “Truce?” he asked, offering her his hand.

“Only if you make me some more of that hot cocoa you brought that first day.”

“Done!” he said.

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

A few minutes later, Emma sat at her counter, watching as Killian puttered around her kitchen preparing the requisite cocoa. I’m gonna miss this, she thought as she watched him stir.

A pang went through her at the thought. How was she going to go back to her boring, ordinary life before Killian? It was like The Wizard of Oz–how Dorothy lived in a world of black and white, and didn’t even realize it until she’d gotten to Oz and suddenly saw all the colors.

How did one come back from that?

What if….what if she didn’t? What if she let this thing between them play out?

The thought scared her…but so did the thought of cutting him out of her life completely. Could she trust him? Was she willing to take the leap of faith and find out?

“Swan?” Killian asked tentatively as he set a steaming mug of cocoa before her. “That’s quite a tragic look. What’s troubling you?”

She took a long swig of the sweet, creamy liquid, buying herself time, but finally she decided the time to be a coward was at an end. She met his eyes. “It’s Christmas, so I guess that means we’ll need to ‘break up’ soon.”

Was she imagining the disappointment on his face?

“The thing is,” she said, glancing away and then determinedly looking back at him. “The thing is, I…I’m not sure I want to.”

Surprise replaced the disappointment in his eyes. “Swan? What are you saying?”

“I don’t know!” she burst out. “I’m not ready for labels or making things official or whatever, but I don’t want to lose what we’ve had the last week. There’s something there between us…at least…at least I think there is?”

His eyes gentled, and he reached over and took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “There is,” he answered simply. “And for my part…well, if I’m being honest, by the time I left your house on that first day I realized I was going to want more than fake dating. Love, I know you’re afraid. I don’t know why, although I hope you’ll tell me in time, and I haven’t wanted to push you, but if you want to know where I stand…I’m in it for the long haul.”

Emma dragged in a long breath waiting for the fear to come. “Killian, if we start…something…between us and it goes bad, I don’t know if I’ll survive it. Not again.”

He brought his free hand to cup her face, letting her hair trail through his fingers in the gesture. “Emma, I don’t know the future. I don’t know what lies before us, but I can tell you this. I’ll always, always be at your side. I’m all in.”

She looked intently into his eyes, searching for lies, searching for deception. She found none. “Then,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Then I am too.”

His smile rivaled the sun that had just broken through the clouds, and then he leaned in and kissed her.

Six months later, David and Mary Margaret received a “save the date” for Emma and Killian’s wedding, coming up on the following Christmas Eve.

David figured there would be no living with her after this.

The End!

#cs fanfiction #cs winter bingo #cs au ff #cs fake dating #bundled up for the cold #a match faked for christmas

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