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abbyandersxnswife · 4 months ago

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Look for the Light ── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Canon Abby! x reader; apocalypse au!

Synopsis: You and Abby used to be best friends back in the Fireflies, but after her trip to Jackson, she makes it clear she no longer wants to be friends. If anything, she doesn't seem to even like you anymore. However, her actions keep stating otherwise...

Warnings for; Smut, switch Abby! Follows timeline of TLOU2

Word count: 3.9k

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You didn't know Abby Anderson.

At least, not anymore.

Now she was just Issac's top Scar killer, another soldier in the WLF, another person like any other.

You arrived at Soundview Stadium a few months ago with a few other WLF soldiers, your patrol unit finally moving in after guarding a post near the Seraphites Island.

You still remembered the day you first ran into Abby again, surprised to see her returning from the lodge up in Jackson.

You didn't know how high she had climbed in the ranks with Issac then, all you knew then was that your old best friend was standing in front of you, walking with Owen and Mel- and you nearly knocked her over when you ran to give her a hug, burying your face in the crook of her neck, never so glad to smell the familiar scent of pine and vanilla. Abby had been strangely stiff, patting you awkwardly on the back like you hadn't spent nearly two years with her in the Fireflies.

Seeing her gave you hope, hope that you two could talk and make up for lost time, finally have some companionship- but that hope was quickly dashed when Abby made it clear to you that she didn't want that at all.

She had said it later on when you two were alone, your things finally unpacked in the tiny room. You had tried to ask her how she was doing, how Jackson went, if she was alright, but it all fell on deaf ears.

"Listen y/n..."

Abby had said, pausing for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck. It was as if she knew this wasn't a good idea, that the next words were words she couldn't take back.

"I don't think we should be friends, I know we used to be but that was a long time ago- I'm just not the person you used to know."

You had been hurt then, hoping she'd give you more of a reason, but Abby was silent, her once bright blue eyes cold and dim.

If Abby Anderson no longer wanted to be friends, if she wanted to pass by you in the hall like you didn't once know every detail about each other - fine.

Fine by you.

"Y/n?"

You opened your eyes groggily and opened the door to see Nora standing in the threshold.

"Hey, Issac wants you to report to him- says he's got the details for your latest mission"

You smiled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Thanks, Nora, I'll be there in a sec"

You threw on some clothes before heading out, making your way up to Issac's office.

"Hey-"

You pushed open the door and saw Abby, Manny, and Issac already waiting for you, and felt your heart drop into your stomach at the sight of her.

"Ahhh, y/n there you are, now we can get started. A rogue group of Seraphites attacked a patrol yesterday down by the Eastbrook area- I want you guys to go in and sweep to make sure they're all gone. Bring any supplies you find back." Issac pointed to the map on the table for emphasis.

"Y/n, I know you haven't been on a mission with these two before but trust me, they're good. I can get your old crew for a different mission another time"

"No problem Issac, I can work with anyone"

"Great," Issac said before continuing, "When you return, we'll start drafting our plans to invade the Seraphites' Island, we can take the boats and see if we can defeat them on home territory."

Your gaze immediately darted to Abby, wondering what she thought of the news, but she only stared stubbornly ahead.

"Grab something to eat and then head out, take the truck, Manny."

"Alright, let's go guys"

Manny left, and you watched Abby leave as well, trailing behind them, sighing inwardly at the day ahead of you. Today's mission was gonna be a long one.

"The Seraphites have been growing bold lately"

Manny broke the silence, seemingly oblivious to the tension that lay between you and Abby.

The back of the truck was snug, Manny and Abby on one side, you on the other. Abby was looking anywhere but your face it seemed, and you sat there quietly, pretending like you weren't sneaking glances whenever you got the chance. After all, this was the closest you had been to her in years.

To be fair, you both equally avoided each other at base- she didn't want anything to do with you, so why would you bother with her?

"Yeah well they broke the treaty, if any of them are at Eastbrook we wipe the site and leave"

The air is chilly when you step out, you adjust your jacket and flip the safety off your gun.

"School looks deserted, but best if we just do a patrol of the site just to be sure. Abby, go with her, patrol the inside, I'll do a grounds check first"

Manny walks off, gun in hand, already entering an old school bus parked in front of the school.

"Come on" Abby says, and you follow her as she prys open the front door.

The interior of the school is a mess, the wallpaper of the walls peeling, desks pushed half hazardly into the hall. Sad shreds of streamers hang from the ceiling, every window smashed, the shards glistening on the floor.

You enter a classroom, pushing the door open with your gun.

Your eyes light up at the greenery inside, the schooldesks covered in a bed of moss, ivy hanging from holes in the ceiling.

"It's beautiful-" You say to yourself, bending down to pick up the remainders of the kids' drawings on the ground. You examine one, it's a picture of a house with what looks to be a horse-

"Can you stay focused? We're supposed to be looking for supplies"

Abby's voice cuts sharply through the silence, the only sound the rifling she's causing by searching through the desks.

You sigh and help her, retrieving a roll of bandages and a few packs of old batteries before moving onto the next room.

Abby finds the cafeteria at the end of the hall, and the old shelves of the cafeteria pantry prove to be quite sparse, with nothing but some old bean cans that Abby takes anyway. She's still acting like you don't exist, so you've got a whole lot of time to examine your surroundings.

You hear a creak while searching through the cupboards and pause, listening for footsteps.

"Do you mind moving a little quicker? Maybe your old patrol did things slower, but I'd like to get back to base sometime soo-"

"Shut up!" You whisper harshly, cutting her off.

Abby looks offended, finally training her gaze on yours, but your eyes dart away to the doors of the cafeteria.

"What?"

Abby asks, watching you.

You hear it again, a second creak. You push Abby up against the wall by the lapels of her jacket, her blue eyes wide with surprise. Her gaze darts down to your lips for a second before her arms come up to pull yours off.

"Woah y/n- what are you-"

A loud bang interrupts Abby's next words, the double wooden doors of the cafeteria slamming open as five Seraphites rush in.

"Seraphites!" You yell, dragging Abby down with you to avoid the gunfire.

Abby breaks out of your hold, punching the nearest Seraphite in the face as you shoot the second. The third Seraphite comes running at you, tackling you to the ground, slamming your wrist against the concrete floor. A sharp pain runs through your arm, and you watch as he kicks your gun out of reach. You grapple on the floor together, kicking as he attempts to strangle you, worried about Abby- before a loud gunshot rings out and the Seraphite's body slumps over you.

Abby stands over you, one hand extended. You take it.

The other two Seraphites lay dead on the ground, bodies riddled with bullets. You brush yourself off, but the ache in your arm is making itself more evident.

"Thanks"

Abby hands you your gun but her brows furrow at the way you cradle your left arm gingerly.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

You feign nonchalance as best you can.

"Yeah.. but my arm might not be"

Abby hesitates for a moment, but reaches out and examines your arm. Her touch is soft, a strange contrast to the stoic way she's been acting this whole mission.

"I think medical should check you out" Abby says, clearing her throat. "Come on we should head back to the truck."

Abby steps back and pushes open the doors. You follow her out.

Medical let you go with a brace for the minor fraction on your left arm. You felt miserable, first mission back in the field and injured- you wouldn't be cleared to go on another for at least another few weeks.

You sat slumped against a bookshelf in the library, half hazardly reading "City of Thieves" by David Benioff, ignoring the dull ache in your arm. You'd been doing this for at least a week now, hiding out from prying eyes.

"Y/n?"

Your eyebrows raised at the sound of Abby's voice, and even further when she came over, standing awkwardly in front of you.

"How's your arm?"

Abby asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"It's fine, I guess," You replied. "Just reading to pass the time. Medical ordered I "take it easy" for the next two weeks." You rolled your eyes at the last part. The corners of Abby's mouth twitched, as if she was holding back a smile, but you were sure it was a trick of the light.

"That sucks.. what are you reading?"

Much to your surprise, Abby sat down next to you, one muscular arm reaching over your lap to grab your book.

"Hey, City of the Thieves? I'm reading this one right now- no spoilers"

She held up a finger in warning, and you smiled at her attempt to joke.

"Yeah, yeah" You waved her away.

A beat of silence stretches between you, and you work up the courage to break it.

"So.. what did you come here for? We both know it wasn't just to talk about books"

"I.." Abby looked at the floor, picking at the fabric below. "I wanted to apologize for what I said a few months ago.. and how I've been treating you ever since. I'm sorry"

Abby stops to look up at you, and you take the opportunity to study her. Her cheekbones are a little sharper. There's a healing cut across her cheek that hadn't been there before. Her rosy cheeks, full lips, and clear blue eyes- they're the same.

She's still your Abby, somewhere.

But the hurt you felt then, the lack of company you've had, the loneliness you've felt? It's also there, somewhere.

"Why'd you do it then?"

You ask, and Abby's eyes drop back to the floor. She's silent for so long you're sure she's going to just leave, but she answers.

"I thought I'd feel better after I found the guy who killed my dad in Jackson... but, I don't."

You inhale at her admission, eyes searching for hers as she meets your gaze. The softness she finds in yours prompt her to press on,

"I feel like nothing makes me happy anymore, I still wake up every night from reoccuring nightmares about him- and I've pushed a lot of people away because of how angry I feel. Angry that he's left me, angry that killing the one guy I trained for 4 years to fight to avenge him didn't make me feel better, angry that I've fucked up in every relationship with anyone I care about because of it-"

Abby runs her hands through her hair, smoothing down the stray strands of hair in her braid.

"Y/n, I pushed you away because I care about you. I was being fucking stupid back then- and every time after. I wanted to be near you so much but I felt like I didn't deserve it. I'm not a good person. You deserve someone better than me"

Abby hung her head and stood up, ready to accept whatever you had to say.

"That's up to me to decide Abs."

You said softly, and Abby looked up in surprise. She felt both shock and happiness when you hugged her, and for a second she stood still. Was she allowed to have this? To have you, even for a moment?

Abby hesitated for a moment, before burying her face in your hair, pressing you closer to her.

She never wanted to lose you again.

The next few weeks passed by in a blur, your arm healing up just fine. You and Abby spent a lot of time together- eating together in mess hall, going for walks around the crop fields- she helped keep your mind off the itch you felt to get back out.

Lately though, Abby had been acting a little strange, spending more time in the gym, off walking Alice or talking to Manny more than she usually did. You assumed it was nothing though, after all, what else could it be?

"Did you hear? Issac's gonna do a large-scale attack on the Seraphites Island, Manny and Abby got instructed to lead the assault with their chosen squads."

You overhear Nora talking to Mel on your way to mess hall, and your eyebrows furrow. You remember Issac talking about invading the Seraphites back when, but Abby hasn't mentioned it to you at all. Before you have more time to think about it further, Abby arrives and hands you a still warm burrito.

"Hey y/n, brought you breakfast"

Abby smiles at you, and you smile back despite the worry at the back of your mind. She would tell you, wouldn't she?

"Wanna go for a walk?" Abby asks, but you shake your head. You're due for a visit to Medical- you hadn't been needing your arm brace and was sure that with a medical note Issac would dispatch you to assignments again.

The Medical Bay turned out to be quite empty, so you're out with the note clutched in your hand in no time.

You head up to Issac's, past the cells holding Seraphites, and knocked politely on the interrogation door. Issac emerged a dew seconds later.

"Y/n? Oh, a medical note"

While Issac read, you inquired about the rumor you'd heard at breakfast, trying your best to seem casual.

"Abby and Manny are leading the squads in the assault on Seraphites Island right? Would I be able to join them?"

Issac looked surprised,

"You'd have to ask them, they get first pick of who they'd like, then I'll form the rest of the squadrons. Why don't you talk to Abby? I'm surprised she didn't ask you already, I told her about it weeks ago."

Issac's words ring in your ears as you make your way down to Abby's room. You knock on her door for a second before you burst in.

Abby's shirt is off, her dark grey tank laid out on the bed. She's in the middle of drying her wet hair when she sees you come in. You can't help but stare- at her abs, at her white bra, at her unbuttoned dark green cargo pants- and ignore the flutter in your stomach.

You wrench your gaze away.

"Y/n?! What's wrong?"

Abby moves towards you, but you put a hand out. Her cheeks flush when she realizes what she's wearing, or the lack thereof, and bends down to grab her shirt.

"I got cleared from Medical! And uh.. Issac told me you and Manny are leading squads for the invasion against the Seraphites?"

You say, addressing the ceiling.

"Oh.." Abby says, trailing off. She slips on her tank top, stalling.

"I.. I only just found out," Abby lies, "I haven't decided who I want for the squadron yet-"

"You just found out?" You say, angry at her blatant lie. "Don't lie, I know Issac asked you weeks ago"

Abby's tone is defensive,

"Did you ask him behind my back?"

"When were you planning to tell me?" You shoot back, "Were you planning to tell me?"

Abby backtracks at your words, rambling. Her hands raise, like she's guilty of a crime.

"I was- I swear I was, I would have asked you to be on the squadron but your arm was still healing and-"

"Why didn't you just tell me? Forget picking me to be on your squadron, I don't care about that- were you just gonna leave and not tell me? Let me wonder if you fucking died or not?"

Abby's eyebrows raise in alarm, realizing her misstep at identifying what was making you so upset. She sits down, wiping her sweaty hands on her cargos.

"No- y/n, I promise I would have told you, I just didn't want to ruin the peace we were building- and honestly I'm sure I'll be fine, I've done tons of patrols-"

You shake your head-

"Be honest. This is just another way of pushing me away, isn't it? Have you been having nightmares again? Why can't you just be honest with me, what's going on?"

Abby's face breaks, the flicker of conflicting emotions clear to you for a moment. She warrs against touching you, but loses the internal battle. She pulls you closer to her position sitting on the edge of the bed, hands caressing the back of your thighs, unsure of if it's reassuring you or her.

"The nightmares... they never stopped." Abby takes a breath before continuing, "And.. Owen's missing, his patrol partner Danny was found dead," Abby explains, "I keep pushing you away because it hurts that I might lose you. What if Owen's dead? What if that was you next? I don't want to lose you."

Your eyes soften at her words,

"Abs, I'm sure Issac's got people out looking for Owen... and you won't lose me. I may not be as seasoned as you are, but I held my own just fine at the Seraphite outpost for months. Besides, if I go with you, you'll be there to watch my back."

You reach out and cradle her face, stepping a little closer, now stood directly between her legs.

Abby hugged you around the waist, hiding her face in your sweater, voice a little muffled.

"Issac said Owen is a traitor- that he killed Danny to protect.. a Seraphite. I told him it wasn't true, that there was no way he'd do that, that if I could just look for him I'd bring him back- but Issac refused. He wouldn't let me look for him."

Abby looks up at you, a mixture of grief and worry plain on her face. A stray tear rolls down her cheek and you brush it away.

"You're all I have left y/n." Abby whispers.

You crumble like putty in her hands, biting your plush lip as you look at her. Abby felt like she was going to explode.

This whole time, Abby's thought the way she felt about you was one-sided. Even when she was busy pretending to no longer care about you, even when she was staring straight head walking past you in the halls, even that damn school during your first mission together- a bit of her always longed for you.

She had tried to chalk it up to the fact she missed her best friend over the years, that she had a stupid girl crush in her teens, but these past few weeks only served to prove her wrong.

So, when you lean into her, Abby can't resist. She feels like she's lost everything- her dad, Owen- and you're all she has left. Can anyone blame her for acting on what she wants, just once?

Abby pulls you into her lap just as your lips crash into hers, both of you reaching for the other.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you kiss Abby, her large hands gently pressing you closer at the small of your back, and your hands tangle in her hair.

You can't get enough of her, hands pulling up her shirt, running your fingertips over her midriff as she shivers at your touch.

"Y/n? We don't have to do anything if you don't want to-"

You cut Abby off with a firm kiss as you push her over.

"Abs, I want to. I want you"

Abby grins at your words, and pulls you down into her for another kiss. Her hands guide your hips as you grind down on her, moaning into her mouth.

Abby thinks this is the closest she'll get to heaven, and flips you both over, her body pressed up against yours.

"I'm glad- I've wanted you for so long" Abby says, kissing down your neck, moving your shirt aside for easier access. You moan as she leaves hickies on your chest, her hands already undoing your pants, fingers dipping down into you.

"Oh baby, you're so wet for me"

Abby's voice is huskier than you've ever heard it, and you feel yourself get even wetter at her words. She rubs your clit with her thumb as she slips two fingers in, fucking you at a quick pace.

"Abs-" You choke out, hands reaching for her.

Abby smiles, love clear on her face.

"You sound so pretty y/n"

You pull at Abby's hair and she sucks at your nipples as she fucks you. You're sure there will be hickies all your neck come tomorrow.

"Fuck, Abs I'm gonna-"

"Come for me"

You come, shaking in her arms. Abby sucks her fingers clean, grinning at the brilliant shade of red you turn in response. You pull her in for another kiss before murmuring,

"Your turn"

Abby sheds her cargos, climbing back onto the bed. You slide your fingers through her wet folds, eliciting a sigh from her as you sink two fingers in, curling them to hit her gspot. You're maintaining a regular pace when Abby speaks up,

"That feels so good- but can you add another?"

You blink, but smirk as you obey her request. You speed up your pace, three fingers disappearing in her dripping cunt quickly, Abby's whimpers growing louder with every thrust.

"Fuck- y/n, I'm gonna come-"

Abby whimpers as she comes, growing tight around your fingers as she grips the headboard above your head.

You smile at her, sucking your fingers as payback for her earlier stunt, and she just laughs, rich and warm.

"I'm glad we both feel the same way about each other" Abby says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I think we always have" You admit, hands cradling her face before drawing her in for another kiss. Abby's eyes are relaxed, her grin wide. You continue, smiling softly-

"You won't lose me, Abs. You never have, and you never will."

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#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou2 #abby anderson the last of us 2 #the last of us 2 #Abby Anderson switch!#abby x reader #canonAbby!#abby anderson fluff #abby anderson angst #the last of us #the fireflies

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ramp-it-up · 4 months ago

Text

... As Hard as I Did

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Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Now he knows he wants more than just one night with you, so much more. Do you feel the same?

Word count: 1.9K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after KYD IV, but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Bucky is in love. The angst! The fluff! The morning after! Bucky wakes you up the best way he knows how, thorough female receiving oral sex, edging, manual sex, teabagging, squirting, nipple play, begging, use of Daddy, bukakke, cum play, Bucky cooks for you, google translate Romanian, the "L" word, allusions to cock riding.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

James Bucky Barnes had slipped and fallen in love.

Steve was so right.

It came out of the blue last Monday when he met with you about a painting, and here he was the very next Sunday morning, holding you in his arms. The ruse of him being a fully legitimate art dealer and not a crime boss had been quickly done away with by the media and your friends, and the fantasy of wooing you met the reality that you did not come to play.

You called Bucky on his bullshit and that made him fall even harder for you. He was honest about his plan to go legit and careful with your feelings, not immediately turning to physicality as he did with every other woman. There was something special about you that was worth the wait.

The five days had been an eternity for both of you, and Bucky had been like a teenager, unable to last very long. He was determined to set that right today, and also to tell you how he felt.

Bucky Barnes knew very little fear, but wondering if you returned his feelings was shaking him to the core.

He held to his original dream of making you smile at him forever, but those dreams had grown to thoughts of a life together, a home you could build together, and the thought of what kids together might look like.

Bucky smiled and held you closer as you snuggled deeper into his embrace and threw your leg over his hip. He caressed the soft skin of your thigh as he argued with himself. He was too old for this; he would be an old man when your kids were just going to college, but that didn’t stop him from making Steve go with him to Cartier yesterday after your event.

Steve grumbled, but he was still smitten with you from his conversation with you yesterday, so he didn’t protest the 5 carat purchase that Bucky made. His best friend just asked Bucky some pertinent questions like:

Had Bucky told you that he loved you?

Did you love him?

Did you even want to get married? To a criminal?

Did you want to have kids with Bucky?

Bucky just stared at Steve, creating the opportunity to goad him.

“But all that aside. If you don’t lock her down, I just might. I’ll close the deal swiftly.”

That left Bucky’s blood to boil while he prepared for dinner last night, but when he opened the door and saw you standing there, every negative vibe left his vicinity.

And now, you were here, warm and beautiful, and naked, in his grip. He was going to take full advantage of the few hours you might gift him today. He didn’t want to risk you running away after he told you his feelings.

He lifted your thigh and positioned himself most where he needed to be.

—--

You moaned in your sleep. You dreamed that Bucky was eating you out again, but you couldn’t quite feel his kisses and slurps to your folds, only whispers of sensation, like air. It was so frustrating, so you grabbed Buckys’ hair and scratched his scalp, trying to encourage him to be rougher.

He moaned and you smiled, calling his name.

“James, please….”

Your eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliarity of Bucky’s bedroom in the morning light. Your legs were spread wide and Bucky’s head was pillowed on your thigh, his hot breath teasing your pussy.

“What are you doing?”

You looked down to see him staring at your most intimate parts and smiling.

“Mmmm. Good morning Frumoasă. I’m about to check an item off my long list of what I want to do to you…”

He pursed his lips and softly kiss your lower ones. You shivered and continued playing in his hair. You laughed, music to Bucky’s ears. He smiled up at you.

“Oh, so you have a list, do you?”

“Yes, an extensive one at that. I will show you later, but right now…”

Bucky moved to kneel and shoved his hands under your ass, serving you up to him as on a platter. His eyes moved from your fluttering cunt up your soft belly and your beautiful breasts to your face. He leaned forward to give you a sound smack on the lips.

“I was wondering if I was going to get a good morning kiss.”

That eyebrow arched and he moved down your body again.

“That’s all in my plan, Frumoasă. Just be patient. ”

You pulled Bucky’s hair as his long, thick tongue licked through you to your soul. You shuddered and Bucky smiled, then those lips took hold of your clit and sucked ruthlessly as he brought one hand up to push two fingers inside you, the squelch of your wetness so gloriously obscene. He stopped and just pumped those fingers inside you, listening.

“Hear how wet you are for me? It’s a dream come true.”

You reached with grabby hands for him to stimulate your clit as all he did was fuck you with his fingers and hold you open for him. You were on the edge of madness. And it seemed that was where Bucky wanted you.

“Jamie….”

“Atât de nerăbdătoare Frumoasă. savurați momentul.”

Somehow, you knew he was telling you to wait.

“Please, please, please James. Eat your pussy please!”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his head. You begging was his weakness, what he wanted to hear from since day one. Then he realized what you’d said.

“... Did you say… that this pussy was mine?”

You smirked at him, feeling the brat.

“Maybe…”

Bucky frowned and slapped your clit, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to roll up your spine and wetness to gush out over his fingers.

“Ow! Yes! Yes! This pussy is yours, Daddy, please eat it.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and his cock, which was hard against his abdomen, jumped.

“Seems you know the magic words, Frumoasă.”

Bucky rewarded you with his mouth clamped over your clit and his eyes locked on yours as you watched his tongue working in his jaw. He was eating you out like a professional. You arched into his face, clit hart and throbbing, ready to give him…

He pulled away as you gasp/screamed in outrage, then whimpered and pouted.

“Please Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re ruining me, I can tell. But tell me, Frumoasă, tell me…”

He regarded you now with a new possessiveness. Impossibly, it made you wetter.

“What else of yours is mine?”

You squirmed under his attention and he rewarded you with another finger in your cunt and all three curled against that electric spot within you.

“What about this ass?”

His pinky bullied into your tighter hole, and you arched as he leaned down to suck your clit like saltwater taffy.

“Oh shittttttt! Yes! Fuck yessss.”

Bucky was grinding his cock against the sheets now, possessed by the sight, taste, and feel of you in his hands. He could actually taste that you were close now, and he wanted it almost as much as you did, but he abandoned you again. He looked up at your body.

“What about those glorious tits?”

He reached up to pluck both of them of them ruthlessly over and over as he continued to finger fuck you. His breath was ragged and his face a mask of desire, but he still had a modicum of control.

“They are next on my list.”

“W-what do you mean?”

You were thrilled and scared at the same time.

“Nu-ți face griji pentru ea frumos, doar ai răbdare.”

And his face was busy again between your legs, which were shaking around his ears. He held one down with one hand as he fucked you with the other.

“Shit, Daddy! I’m gonna….fuck! I’m gonna…”

Bucky nodded and looked up at you, then he told you to cum with his fingers and you shattered, gushing into his mouth and all over his bed.

Bucky leaned up and groaned as he played in your wetness, using that hand to begin to jack himself over your shuddering body.

“Can I come all over you, Frumoasă?”

“Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky groaned and then manhandled your nipples.

“Cum all over me, Jamie.”

Then he roared as you moved so that you could suck his balls.”

“Holy, shhhhhhitttttttt!”

You were circling your own clit as the first hot drops of his cum sprayed over your already heated body. You came one more time as he focused on your breasts and left a hot, sticky mess all over you.

Your eyes were closed as your shivered because Bucky’s hot mouth was sucking his spend off your nipples. He alternated between kisses, bites, and laps against your skin.

“James! Gotdamn! I–”

“I know, I know, Frumoasa. But I can’t get enough...suportă-mă, iubito…”

—---

Later that Sunday, around noon, you sat, twice showered, marked, edged, and fucked to within an edge of your life as you ate the brunch that Bucky made you. You were ensconced in one of his plain white tee shirts and some of his boxer briefs and socks, and he was looking at you hungrily.

You laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky smirked, happier than he’d been in a good while.

“Do you want more…?”

Despite the debauched things you’d spent the morning doing, you blushed and looked down at your plate. You felt like a slut. But in a good way. You loved sex with Bucky. It seemed like even his pleasure was focused on you. It was unlike any other relationship you’d ever had.

“I’m sorry. Do you regret it?”

Bucky stopped eating and tipped your head up by your chin with his fingers. He looked worried and you melted. You bit your lip and decided to go for it.

“No. Because I love you.”

Bucky’s fork clattered to his plate and his eyes grew wide while your bright smile faded. Then he frowned.

“Fuck.”

He looked mad.

“I- I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too soon. I’m sorry, just forget that I said that.”

“No! Shit…”

Bucky grabbed your head and kissed you, the strawberries and cream from the waffles flooding your senses as his tongue found yours. When he was done, he grinned at you.

“I was pissed for a second, but not at you. What you just said is all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you, too and here you are, saying it first.”

You rolled your eyes, although your soul soared. You pulled away and took another bite of food.

“It’s not a competition, James.”

You said it through a full mouth.

“Hmmmm. Maybe not. But I do love you more.”

He took another, bigger bite of food and you shook your head at him.

“You are insufferable.”

Bucky grinned.

“Get used to it if you’re gonna be my girl.”

“Your girl? Oh?”

Bucky wiped his mouth, then picked you up and placed you on his lap.

“Y/N L/N. I love you. And I want to figure this thing out between us. I want you to be my girlfriend while I figure out how to be the best man for you. Then maybe… “

You stopped him with your finger on his lips.

“Listen. One step at a time, Jamie. I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You are the best man for me. My man. I’m along for the ride.”

Bucky kissed you, then stood up and threw you over his shoulder as he moved to his couch.

“Speaking of riding. There’s my list to attend to.”

You screamed and laughed as Bucky slapped your ass.

——

Next part Here!

All feedback is golden, babies! Let me know how you feel. ✨

427 notes · View notes

wolverigrl · 5 months ago

Text

The first date

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I made some small changes in the last parts! The movie they made is a fictional one about Lady Deadpool. Everything takes place in 2015. Y/n is in her late 20s. Blake and Ryan got married long before and I changed the ages of their and Hugh's kids so it would fit more!

Warnings: none, only some swearing here and there and a bit fluff, not proofread!!

Enjoy!

Previous part

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The early morning breeze was cool as I jogged through Central Park, the soft hum of the city waking up in the background. The familiar rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement was oddly comforting, almost like a meditation. I pulled my black baseball cap lower, shielding my eyes from the rising sun, and zipped up my running jacket a bit more. My leggings clung comfortably to my legs, and I felt grounded, my mind clear, my body moving with ease.

Jogging here had become part of my routine, a way to escape for a moment. The quiet mornings felt like a reset. As I slowed my pace and started walking toward the park exit, my breathing still steady, I noticed two people approaching from the side, their faces lighting up in recognition.

"Excuse me... are you y/n?" the guy asked, his voice a little shaky with excitement.

I smiled softly, adjusting my cap. "Yeah, that’s me."

The girl next to him looked at me with wide eyes, already fumbling for her phone. "Oh my God, we are big fans! Can we take a picture with you?"

I chuckled, nodding. "Of course, let’s do it."

We huddled together, her phone snapping a few pictures. The guy, who looked like he was around his early twenties, lingered for a moment longer, hesitating before speaking.

“You probably hear this all the time." he began, "but you really inspired me. I’ve always wanted to act, but I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Seeing you do what you love gave me the push I needed so I just joined a local theater group."

For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I felt a rush of warmth. It wasn't every day someone said something so meaningful.

"That’s amazing! I’m so glad I could inspire you. Keep at it, okay? It’s tough, but if it’s your passion, it’s always worth it."

He nodded, his face full of excitement and we hugged each other as a goodbye. As they walked away, I called out, “You made my day! Love you guys!” Their faces lit up even more, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like this.

This encounter left me with a good feeling, and as I walked back home, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. Connecting with people like that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place.

Back in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the past few days—work, interviews, photoshoots—but one thing stuck out more than the rest: Hugh. I had been thinking about him more than usual, and after yesterday’s intense moment, it was hard not to.

Still, before I let my thoughts drift too far, I got got into the bathroom for a quick refreshing shower. After that I changed into a comfy office look, grabbed my phone and dialed my parents. I hadn’t caught up with them in a while, and I missed hearing their voices.

“Y/n! Pumpkin! How’s our superstar?” my mom’s voice greeted me on the other end.

I smiled, sinking into the cushions. "Super busy, as usual. But everything’s going well. I'll have a meeting with the team today. lots of interviews coming up."

We chatted for a while about my schedule, how they were doing, and the usual family updates. I purposely avoided mentioning anything about Hugh. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not when things between us were still so undefined.

After saying goodbye, I got up to get ready for my meeting at the office. As I was applying a bit of makeup, my phone buzzed on the counter. Hugh’s name appeared on the screen.

HUGH: Good morning, beautiful❤️ How's your day starting?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed back, already feeling my heart speed up a little.

Y/N: Good morning handsome🥰 Doing pretty good so far. Just came back from my morning run. How about yours?

Almost immediately, his reply came through.

HUGH: I still don’t know how you can enjoy running😅 Mine's good too. Picked coffee with a friend and now we're at his house already working.

Y/N: Maybe you're just getting old?👀

HUGH: Why so mean? Did you trip on your run?

I snapped a quick selfie in the mirror with my tongue out and send it to him.

Y/N: I'm not mean. It was a legitimate question. I'm heading to the office now! Wish me luck!😘

HUGH: Looking great as always! And good luck, though you don’t need it. You always kill it sweetheart😘

A moment later, another message appeared, this time with a photo of Hugh, standing in what looked like an unfinished house. He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt, his arms slightly dusted with sawdust, his hair messy in a way that only made him look better. I paused, biting my lip. He looked really good. And my mind, much to my frustration, flashed back to that kiss.

Y/N: Somebody pls call the fire department🔥

HUGH: Lady, stop exaggerating😂

I chuckled, shaking my head. There was something so annoyingly attractive about how casual he was, even when he looked like that. After a few more texts, I realized I had to leave or I’d be late.

The management office was buzzing with energy when I arrived, as usual. I greeted everyone warmly, settling into the meeting room where we began discussing upcoming interviews and events. Everything was going smoothly, just the usual PR talk—until one of the managers, Sam, leaned forward with a more serious expression.

“So, we’ve been thinking,” he began. “The buzz around you and Hugh has been great for both of your images. The movie’s coming out soon, and the fan speculation has been... let’s just say, active”

I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.

“We think it would be smart to keep that momentum going." Sam continued. “Even after the release of the movie, we want you two to keep up the appearance of having something going on. Publicly, deny it in interviews, of course. But tease the people a bit more. Keep them guessing.”

I blinked, processing what he was saying. "So, you want us to pretend we’re together, but not really confirm anything?"

Sam nodded. "Exactly. It’ll keep the public engaged, and your fanbases will stay hooked. It’s good for both of you."

The idea sat heavy in my chest. I could see why they wanted it—it made sense from a PR standpoint—but the thought of turning something personal into a game made me uneasy. What if it messed things up between Hugh and me? What if it turned whatever we were trying to figure out into a spectacle?

“I’ll talk to Hugh about it." I said carefully. “And I think it’s best if you reach out to his team as well, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Sam smiled, satisfied. "Good call. Let us know what you both decide."

They nodded, and we moved on to other topics. I was particularly excited when they mentioned a potential collaboration with a fashion brand. Modeling for a brand had always been a dream, and eagerly agreed.

After sorting out some paperwork, I left the office, my mind still swirling with everything we discussed. As I stepped outside, my phone rang. It was Chris.

"Hey!" he greeted me. "I'm in New York earlier than planned. Are you free?"

Of course, I agreed, and we arranged to meet up at his hotel. Soon, we were stroling through the city together, talking about everything from movies to work. Even though my phone buzzed several times, I ignored it, wanting to be fully present with Chris.

After a while, Chris turned to me with a grin. "So, about those rumors with you and Hugh... anything you want to share?" I felt my stomach twist. Lying to I Chris didn't sit right with me, but Hugh and I had agreed that only Ryan and Blake knew about us. So, I gave him the standard answer.

"We’re just friends,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes. “You know how the rumors go. Our Managers want us to play along because it looks good. That’s all.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but letting it slide. “If you say so.”

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he said, “Actually... I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met someone.”

I blinked, surprised. "What? When?"

“Not too long ago. Her name’s Alba. She’s incredible—smart, sweet, talented and down-to-earth. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

As Chris spoke, his eyes lit up, and I could tell he was smitten. I felt a surge of happiness for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Chris, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”

He smiled, clearly touched by my excitement, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, talking about Alba, his family and how things were going. Eventually, I had the idea to skip the pub and order takeout instead. Chris agreed, but only on one condition.

"We have to watch a Disney movie!" He said with eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Deal!" I laughed.

After heading back to my place, we posted a photo of us together on Instagram, and as expected, the comments looded in.

>>ginainabottle: Where's Hugh?😭<<

>>markix69: Y/n always with the dilfs. QUEEN💯<<

>>teddy1xoxo: How is it living my dream?❤️😭<<

I finally checked my messages and saw a few from Hugh.

HUGH: Have fun tonight😘

HUGH: Meeting up already?

HUGH: Everything okay?

Guilt twisted in my stomach and I quickly called him.

"Hey.." I said softly when he picked up. "I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier. I was just... you know how it is... We've been talking non-stop."

"Y/n it's fine." Hugh replied, but there was something off in his tone. "What've you two been up to?"

I told him everything--how we spend the day walking around, catching up and now were getting ready for a movie night.

"Chris is still here, actually." I added. "We're about to watch The Little Mermaid."

There was a pause before Hugh spoke again, and I could swear there was a hint of something... maybe jealousy? But I brushed it off.

"I miss you." he said, his voice softer now.

"I miss you too." I replied, smiling at he thought of seeing him soon.

"Oh, by the way." I added remembering the management's idea. "My team suggested we tease the fans a bit more online. Even after the movie releases."

Hugh chuckled. "Yeah, we can play around with it. Deny everything but drop a few hints. But what do you think?"

I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation with my team. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't want the media or public pressure to affect what we're building between us, you know? But if you're okay with it, maybe we should continue."

Hugh chuckled, the tension easing from his voice. "Like a soft launch, huh? So, we hint at things but never really confirm it?"

"Exactly." I said, smiling at the idea now that it was being said out loud. "We can have fun with it. But still deny things if people ask outright."

"Deal," he said, his tone light again. "Let's tease them a little, but keep the mystery alive."

We both laughed at the absurdity of it, and the playful tone of the conversation helped ease my earlier guilt. Then, Hugh's voice turned a bit more serious, though stillwarm. "By the way... how about gym and breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

I hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of how much I wanted it. "Like... our first real date?" I asked, grinning into the phone.

"Yep. Our first official date." he confirmed, the excitement in his voice clear.

"Then, it's a yes!" I said, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach at the hought. "Where should we meet?

We hashed out the details and after a few more minutes of casual banter, we finally said our goodbyes, both of us feeling lighter.

As soon as I hung up, I turned to find Chris giving me a curious look from the couch. "So. first date, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed, knowing I couldn't hide it anymore. "Yeah, fine. You got me," I admitted, plopping down beside him. "Hugh and I... there's something going on. But we're keeping it quiet for now. Chris grinned, clearly happy for me. "I had a feeling. And honestly? I'm happy for you. Hugh's a good guy He was always super nice when I had the chance talking to him."

"Thanks, Chris. It's just complicated, you know? With the media and all."

"Yeah, I get it." He said with a knowing nod. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you." He then smirked, his teasing side coming back. "So are you guys gonna do a soft launch like the rest of us normal people, or something more dramatic?"

I squealed and shoving his arm. "What the heck?! He mentioned a soft launch too! What are you? Telepathic?!" And we both bursted into laughter.

We calmed down and shifted our focus back to The Little Mermaid. Chris singing along to Part of Your World with exaggerated enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he dozed off, his head lolling back against the couch. I smiled fondly at him, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, but it was nice to end it with someone I trusted so much.

Grabbing my phone,I snapped a quick picture of Chris, chuckling to myself as I did and quickly posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:

>>y/n instagram: Disney and chill with my favorite co-star🧜🏻‍♂️<<

The comments poured in almost instantly, but I ignored the notifications, setting my phone on the coffee table and grabbing a blanket to drape over Chris. After making sure he was comfortable, I turned off the lights, heading to my bedroom. I slipped under the covers, the events of the day replaying in my mind. Hugh, Chris, the PR idea and the upcoming date.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Chris moving around the apartment. I got up and changed into comfy clothes as I walked into the living room where he was packing up his things, looking like the human version of a Disney prince as usual. As I stretched and rubbed my eyes, he glanced over at me with a soft smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead." he teased, zipping up his jacket. “I’ve got a meeting downtown, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

I sat up and gave him a playful wave. “Didn’t want me to think you snuck out, huh?”

“Exactly. I’m not that kind of guy,” he joked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Then his tone softened. “Hey, keep me updated on the Hugh situation, okay? I’m curious how things go. And don’t forget to tell me about that first date.”

I smiled, the warmth of his support making me feel even more confident. “I will. Thanks, Chris.”

He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, y/n. And don’t forget, I’m always just a text away if you need me.”

“Will do. Good luck with your meeting!”

With a final wave, he headed out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a mess of nerves about my first official date with Hugh later that morning. I had no idea what to expect, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn into a disaster.

After Chris left, I freshened up, threw on my workout clothes, and made my way to the gym where Hugh and I had agreed to meet. This wasn’t just a casual workout—it was our first date, so I kinda did a big deal out of it.

When I arrived, Hugh was already there, looking ridiculously good in his gym gear. He waved me over with that easygoing smile that never failed to make my heart race.

“You ready?” he asked smiling down at me.

“I was born ready!" With this Hugh opened the door and let me go in first.

We started with some light cardio to warm up, and things were going smoothly—until we hit the weight section again. I’d watched Hugh easily lift a set of dumbbells like they were made of air, and, in a moment of misplaced confidence, I thought 'Why not?'. I grabbed a barbell and decided to push myself a bit further than usual. The first few reps went okay, but as I tried to push the barbell up again, my arms started to shake. I tried to power through it, but I quickly realized I had overestimated my strength. Just as the weight became too much, Hugh was beside me in an instant. “Need some help there?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. I tried to save face. “I’ve got it, just—just give me a second…” Before I could protest further, he gently but firmly took hold of the barbell, lifting it with ease and placing it back on the rack.

"Yeah, you totally had that under control." he teased, his smile widening. “Okay, maybe I overdid it a little." I admitted, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.

"No shame in asking for help." he said, giving me a playful nudge. “Just don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”

I playfully groaned and lightly slapped his chest. He just laughed, pulling me tighter against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I looked up at him, grinning, my gaze lingering on his lips for a beat too long.

“Do you need a kiss to forget that little mishap?” he teased, moving his face closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smirked, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh, I’ll need more than one to forget that.”

Before he could respond, I closed the gap between us, pulling him in with my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangled in his messy, sweat-damp hair as our kiss deepened, the heat between us rising instantly. He brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, and I parted my lips, welcoming him further. His hands gripped me firmly at the waist, keeping me pressed tightly against him, while my hands couldn’t stay still, roaming over his broad shoulders and chest. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, completely overtaken by the moment, the world around us fading away.

I didn’t even realize when my hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips grazing his warm skin. But just as quickly as the moment ignited, Hugh pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.

“We’re only on our first date,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t even given you flowers yet.”

I chuckled softly, my head still spinning, and nodded. “You’re right. We said we wouldn’t rush things… and, well, making out in a public gym might be pushing it. I don’t think our management would be too thrilled if the media caught wind of this.”

Hugh laughed, loosening his hold on me, though his hands lingered for a moment longer. “Yeah, I can already hear the headlines.”

Reluctantly, we stepped back from each other, both grinning, but still feeling that magnetic pull between us.

After that little incident, we wrapped up the workout, and I offered to cook us breakfast back at my place. It was the least I could do after Hugh saved me from total humiliation. But as soon as I started cooking, I realized maybe that wasn't the best idea.

The eggs burned almost immediately, the toast was so hard you could break a tooth on it, and I somehow managed to get pancake batter all over the counter.

Hugh stood nearby, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and concern.

"I swear, I'm usually better at this." I said, desperately trying to salvage something from the mess. Hugh laughed, leaning against the counter. "Better at lifting weights or cooking?"

"Oh shut up!" I laughed and tossed a burnt piece of toast at him, which he dodged easily.

"You sure you don't want me to handle this?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

"Hugh, I already said no. I'm perfectly capable." I said defensively, though the evidence clearly suggested otherwise.

"You keep telling yourself that." he teased.

I flipped another pancake, only to see it land halfway off the pan.

I let out a dramatic sigh, slumping my shoulders in mock defeat. Hugh chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a quick kiss to my neck. The warmth of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard sent a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising instantly. I turned my head towards him, and with a soft smile, he said, "Looks like the universe is giving you a day off from cooking. Let’s clean up and eat at the café instead."

Eventually, we gave up on my culinary attempt and decided to head downtown to the next café. We settled into a cozy corner table, ordering some coffee and toast. As the food arrived, I couldn't help but laugh.

"At least this can't go wrong, right?" joked, gesturing to the perfectly normal-looking plate in front of us. Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. With us, anything's possible."

I pretended to look horrified. "Don't jinx it!"

He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, What do you think of our first date so far?"

I paused, meeting his eyes.

Hugh leaned back smiling. "Well I've gotta say, it's been pretty great so far."

I chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through me. "I agree. Disaster-prone, but definitely memorable."

We spent the rest of breakfast chatting, laughing about the little mishaps from the past couple of hours, and just enjoying each other's company. It, again, felt easy and natural, even with the nerves of a first date hanging in the air.

As we finished up, Hugh reached under the table for my hand and squeezed it gently, giving me a soft look that made my heart skip a beat. "You know, I'm really glad we do this."

"Me too, Hugh." Iadmitted, feeling the same.

Later that afternoon, Hugh and I met up with Ryan for an interview promoting the movie, which finally releases tomorrow. It was just the three of us sitting in a comfortable setup, no live audience, just cameras, and a quiet room. I always looked forward to interviews with Ryan—he had a way of making everything fun and unpredictable.

The interviewer greeted us friendly with a firm handshake and began with the usual questions about the film after introducing us to the already recording camera.

"So, y/n, how did it feel stepping into the shoes of Lady Deadpool?”

I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly, it was a dream. She’s such a chaotic, yet deeply emotional character. Playing her meant getting to do some wild action scenes while also diving into her personal struggles. Plus, I got to wear a lot of leather.”

Ryan jumped in, grinning. “And kick some serious butt. Let’s not forget that.”

The interviewer nodded and turned to Hugh. “And how about you, Hugh? Wolverine is such an iconic character. How was it returning to the role?”

Hugh smiled, looking relaxed. “It’s always an honor to play Wolverine. This time around, the dynamic with Deadpool—and Lady Deadpool—added a whole new level of fun. The banter, the action sequences, it all just felt... electric.”

Ryan leaned in dramatically. “But let’s be honest. It was terrible. We all hated each other on set!"

Hugh, the interviewer and I bursted into laughter as Ryan continued, completely straight-faced. "No, seriously, it was a nightmare. Every day was a battle I'm surprised we even finished the movie."

"I mean, you were pretty hard to work with.: I teased, leaning into the joke.

Ryan shrugged dramatically. "I do my best to bring chaos wherever I go."

The interviewer then introduced a fun segment: Fan questions pulled from Twitter. “Alright, we’ve got some tweets here from fans. Let’s see what they want to know.”

He read the first tweet aloud. “@MarvelFanGirl asks: ‘What was the funniest moment on set?’ "

Ryan immediately jumped in. “Oh, I’ve got this. There was actually a pretty intense kiss scene between y/n and Hugh in the original cut of the film, but - spoiler alert - it got cut because the film was running too long. Marvel classics." Hugh chuckled, already shaking his head in amusement.

"And I swear by the mother of my children, Blake Ellender Lively!" he dramatically paused. "They just kept going after the director's cut! The crew didn't know if they were still in the scene or... well, if it was method acting, if you know what I mean."

At this point the interviewer started laughing uncontrollably and held his hand in front of his mouth.

I laughed, hiding my face in my hands. “Why do you always bring that up?”

“Because it’s comedy gold!” Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Don't listen to him, Hugh said, grinning. "He's just upset he didn't get a kiss scene."

"Eeeexactly!" Ryan exclaimed, pointing at Hugh. "Where's Deadpool's kiss scene, huh? It's an outrage!"

Even the crew behind the cameras started laughing and the interviewer moved on with the questions, still giggling.

"Ryan, if you could switch roles with anyone in the cast, who would it be?" asked the interviewer.

Without missing a beat, Ryan replied.

"Y/n, hands down. She got the sexiest costume, the coolest weapons, and she gets to kick more butt than anyone else. Plus, let's not forget--she gets to kiss Hugh."

I groaned, shaking my head while Hugh laughed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never!" Ryan said with a grin.

The next tweet came in, and the interviewer read it out. “@WolverineLover asks: ‘If Wolverine and Lady Deadpool had their own spin-off movie, what would it be about?’”

Hugh pretended to think seriously. “I imagine it would be about trying to stop Lady Deadpool from blowing up everything in sight.”

I shot him a mock-offended look. “Hey, Lady Deadpool isn’t that destructive.”

Ryan snorted. “Oh please, she’d turn the whole thing into a circus. Wolverine would just be there for damage control.”

We all laughed as we moved on to the next question. “@DeadpoolRocks asks: ‘Ryan, how much of Deadpool is actually you?’ "

Ryan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, about 90%, I’d say. The other 10% is just me trying to look cooler than I actually am.”

As the interview wrapped up, we exchanged a few more lighthearted jabs, and I couldn’t help but feel how much fun we had together. Ryan and Hugh had a way of making every moment a little less serious and a lot more entertaining.

“Alright." Ryan said, standing up as the cameras shut off. “Who’s ready for round two tomorrow?”

I moaned, already dreading whatever he had in store. “I’m not sure my dignity can handle it.”

Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to save you. Again.”

“Let’s just hope there are no weights involved this time,” I quipped.

After the interview, we walked off stage, and Ryan clapped Hugh on the back.

"Man, I'm still disappointed they cut the kiss scene. We were all waiting for the slow-motion sparks."

Hugh just laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why the audience would come to watch the movie. For that."

Ryan wagged his finger. "Don't underestimate the power of romance, Jackman. Fans live for that!"

I shot both of them a look, trying to keep a straight face. "As long as no one mentions the breakfast disaster, I'll consider this interview a win."

Ryan blinked, clearly intrigued. "What breakfast disaster?"

Hugh grinned mischievously, but before he could spill, I put my hand over his mouth in protest. "Nope! Not happening. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Im going to get that story out of one of you. Just wait!"

"Ha! You wish!" I called over my shoulder, heading out of the studio with them.

Eventually, we split off, with Ryan going in one direction, and Hugh and I in another, after we said our goodbyes.

Hugh opened the passenger door for me so that I could get in. After my little "Thank you", he closed the door with a smile and sat down on the other side. "My place or yours?"

I kissed his cheek. "Let's go to your place."

With that, Hugh drove off, placing his hand on my thigh as he drove.

Smiling, I looked out of the window and stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. What a day.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild

Next part

Sorry if it's not proofread! Struggled with a migraine today but still wanted to finish this part. But I tried my best! And I hope I didn't confuse anybody with the small changes.

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polarisjisung · 5 days ago

Text

COSMIC FEELINGS

synopsis: The rain had its oceans. The sun had its moon, everything had a reason for falling—and you had him. With Park Jisung, you were always falling: falling down, falling short, falling in love. But sometimes, love isn’t enough. And sometimes, love is all you need.

wc: 3.3k pairings: ex bf! jisung × fem! reader genre: angst, fluff, exes to lovers warnings: swearing, loserish pining ig notes: can you tell i like the exes to lovers trope ... anyways HAPPY JISUNG DAY!! tried something a little interstellar and cosmic themed for our favourite space nerd and NASA lover jisung.. I hope you like it gang ! gotta stay true to my user iykwim | LIBRARY

Today marked exactly 6 months.

6 months since everything fell apart.

The time had stretched by, hours like days, weeks like months, and the nights dragged on, even longer.

You struggle to believe that you and Jisung broke up only 6 months ago. It could have been six years, six centuries, or even six lifetimes, and it would all feel the same—an endless expanse of time.

It wasn't healthy, you supposed, because in each and every waking moment, the thoughts of him clouded your mind. His name was on your lips, repeated like a mantra, day in and day out.

And the nights?

They'd swallow you whole, pulling you into their eternal embrace, the minutes dragging on, slipping through your fingers like stardust.

Every night, he invaded your sleep. His face, his laugh, the way he looked when he’d roll his sleeves up a little too high.

You could trace every inch of him if you closed your eyes—those familiar grooves in his hands, the faint scars across his skin, each imperfection etched into your mind. Pain you could never erase, left only for you to commit to a beautiful memory.

To you, Park Jisung was the sun, the moon and all the stars in the sky.

Eternal, radiant and yet so very distant.

As you stood on the balcony, feeling the weight of the empty space beside you, you sighed. You didn’t remember when the sky had become so empty, but it felt like it had been that way for years.

The constellations that once felt familiar now seemed like strangers, their lights flickering in ways you couldn't recognise.

When you lay down, hoping to take your mind off of him, you remembered how you used to lie together.

Beside you, the bed sunk with emptiness, and you recalled how your hands had traced the starry formations against his skin, mapping the universe as your fingers brushed over his.

In those moments, you swore you could taste the stars in his words, the way he’d speak of them—of space, of time, of you.

Park Jisung called you beautiful, like it was your name. He loved you like it was all he knew. And in his eyes, you saw a future made of light, of endless skies, of forever. A forever with you.

But now, the stars looked different—fainter, perhaps. The moon, too, seemed smaller tonight. Maybe it was the distance, or maybe it was just the weight of how long it had been since he called you his sky.

You caught yourself wondering if he was out there, somewhere beneath the same curtain of noir, staring up at the same stars, feeling the same tug in his chest. In his heart.

Truly, you don't know how it happened. But you remembered it like it was yesterday.

The rain tapped against the window in a steady, unrelenting rhythm, the kind that made the world outside look like a blurred painting, colors mixing into nothingness.

Inside, your apartment was quiet—too quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the soft rustle of Jisung’s jacket as he dropped it by the door. The clock on the microwave read well past midnight.

04:25

You had just gotten home after work.

You stood by the kitchen counter, your calloused fingers gripping its edge as you stared down at the chipped mug in front of you, the steam from your tea rising in slow spirals.

Your eyes were tired, red, dark circles hinting at restless nights. You hadn’t expected him—hadn't even wanted him to come. You didn't have the energy for it. For him.

But here Jisung was, standing in the entryway, his hair damp from the rain, his hoodie hanging loosely around his shoulders.

The space between you felt too wide, too heavy.

"You didn’t have to come," you said, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

You shouldn't have, Jisung heard.

He didn’t move immediately. His gaze lingered on you, on the way your shoulders hunched as though the weight of your silence was pressing down on you.

He exhaled sharply and crossed the room to stand beside you.

The space was still there, the one that had always been between you two these past few months, like an invisible chasm that neither of you had known how to cross.

"Y/n, I—" Jisung stopped himself. His words, heavy as they were, seemed to hang in the air, too fragile to be spoken.

He hadn't seen you in weeks. Not properly at least, only through 2 minute FaceTime calls and quick selfies snapped between the times you'd head to work and to sleep.

And you hadn't seen him, perhaps if you had it would've been easier to notice the deepening bags beneath his eyes, how his cheeks were beginning to hollow. How every part of him reflected you, dull and lifeless.

Jisung was an open book before you, yet at this moment, you were blind to his pages. Illiterate in the way of his unspoken words.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the warmth threatening to rise in your chest.

"What are we doing, Jisung?"

His lips tightened. He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before he pulled back, as if the contact was too much, too little all at once.

What were you doing?

Jisung wished he knew.

You were both trying, he was sure of that much, but it felt as though your efforts bred different results, like you aimed for the same thing and ended up in opposite directions.

Relentlessly, you had tried and tried and tried, but no amount of effort seemed enough. Like nothing could save you. A cruel twist of fate.

"We’re both drowning," Jisung said, his voice low, almost lost in the noise of the storm outside. "In everything... and there's no space left. Not for us. Not for anything."

You turned your back to him now, because facing him felt too much like watching something break. "I know." You said.

There was nothing else to say, nothing left.

Still, Jisung had hoped you'd continue.

You didn't.

You didn’t have the energy for it.

Between work, and the extra degree you'd all too ambitiously decided to start studying, the basic necessities, like sleeping, and eating, there was no time left. Like a robot, you only did what you were programmed to do, and it seemed Jisung was no longer part of your code.

He waited for your denial. It never came.

You barely had time for yourself, you didn't in fact, so how could you argue that you had time for Jisung, for your love?

You couldn't correct his words, not when he hadn't said anything wrong.

So you stayed quiet.

The silence was no longer comfortable. It stretched between you like an unwelcome presence, suffocating in its weight.

Jisung wanted to reach for you, to hold you like he used to, but every time he moved, it felt forced, it felt wrong. The timing had always been wrong. Schedules clashing.

You had become ghosts in each other’s lives.

"I miss you," he whispered, as though admitting it would make it hurt less. It only made the ache deepen. "But I’m not sure I know how to be the person you need anymore."

Your breath hitched in your throat. "I know, I’m sorry."

Jisung’s chest tightened, his hand balling into a fist at his side. The weight of your words settled on his ribs, pressing down on him.

He had never wanted this.

Never wanted to stand here, in this cold apartment, feeling the distance that had crept between you two over the weeks, the months.

And yet, here you were, saying things you hadn’t said in so long. Truths that had long been buried under the weight of your hectic lives.

The rain beat harder against the glass, as if the world outside had heard the finality in your voices.

You closed your eyes, your fingers brushing the edge of the counter.

The room was too still, too heavy with everything unsaid.

"I love you, you know,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “but it's too selfish of me to expect you to do the same, even now.”

Jisung nodded slowly, the motion jerky, like something inside him was unraveling.

He hadn’t come here to say goodbye.

But the words had already formed, and the door was already closing, even if neither of you had pushed it shut.

“Maybe it's best if we break up.”

"I'm sorry," he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "For everything."

You nodded in return, your gaze fixed on the rain outside. "I am too."

And with that, the space between you two grew wider, a gap neither of you could bridge, no matter how hard you tried.

The storm outside wasn’t the loudest thing in the room anymore. It was the silence, growing heavier, thicker, until it swallowed you both whole.

And then, he was gone.

You told yourself you were fine, told yourself that moving on was just part of life, that you'd get over it. You'd heal. But as you went about your days, the ache never fully disappeared. Instead, it had faded into a dull throb, a constant reminder of what once was. The endless longing had inserted itself into your routine, and you'd learnt to live with the pain.

But when you saw his name pop up on your phone, the world, your world, had tilted on its axis, orbited too much, too fast and too far. All at once, your throat constricted and you gasped for air, shaking, trembling.

You couldn't breathe.

In the moments it took you to gather enough courage to read the text beneath his contact, your heart raced, your palms sweat and the weight in your chest intensified. So foreign, yet so familiar.

It was exhilarating.

Jisung always made you feel this way, electric, ablaze— like the universe ran through your veins.

The message was simple: "can we talk".

No punctuation, no personality—the same as the first time Jisung had ever texted you.

It was dry, it was boring and yet it planted that same quiet curiosity in your chest as it had years ago. Before Jisung had sunk beneath your bones and nurtured that deep-rooted familiarity into the only thing, the only feeling, the only experience that you could ever call love.

You didn't respond right away, though your fingers hovered over the screen. The hesitation gnawed at you, for a moment you considered not responding at all. A long moment.

But it was the memory of his eyes, the way he'd looked at you before everything fell apart, that forced you to tap out a reply. How could you ever say no?

Though you're not sure falling apart was the right term.

You and Jisung had crumbled, piece by piece, atom by atom.

Your light had dimmed, your nebula collapsed— everything caved in on itself. Slowly but surely, your strengths, your weaknesses, your love.

You had imploded.

The coffee shop was small, cosy, almost like a memory.

Pink walls and tall ceilings, the soft murmur of conversations and the clink of mugs create a comforting background, with the same warm lighting overhead that you had always loved.

You hadn't been here in months, and you felt the nostalgia creeping in, coming through smiles from regular customers and greetings from the baristas. It had been so long, too long.

But strangely, you didn't miss it as much as you thought you would.

Still, amongst the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the pastel walls of the building, it felt warm, easing the tightness in your chest ever so slightly.

You sat waiting for Jisung, tucked away in a booth just next to the window.

You had arrived earlier than the both of you had agreed, hoping the nerves would settle if you had accustomed to your surroundings.

You weren't so sure that was the case now.

Too many questions clouded your thoughts, what did he want to talk about, and why so suddenly? He had only messaged you last night, agreeing to meet the next morning—today.

And if there was one thing you knew about Jisung, it was that he rarely, if ever, acted on impulse.

His urgency was disconcerting, to say the least.

But your thoughts didn't end there.

You wondered if he had changed, if he was still the Jisung you loved, or a new version you wouldn't recognise.

Sure, it had been 6 months since you broke up, but it had been far more since you saw Jisung, really saw him, not just the 2 second check ins and the 5 minute calls.

You shifted in your seat, a shiver running down your spine. A bitter taste sat in your tongue.

Behind you, the sound of the door opening brought a rush of emotion—like your heart recognised him before your mind had the chance.

Jisung was standing there, hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure where to go.

But then, they locked on you.

And just like that, the months between you disappeared.

He smiled. It was a quiet thing, more like an exhale than an expression. The same smile that you knew so well, and had told you countless times that things would be okay.

You hoped it could do the same today.

“Hey,” he said, voice softer than you remembered. The warmth in it making your chest tighten.

You nodded, unsure of how to start.

Your throat felt tight, like there were a thousand things you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for.

“Do you… do you want to sit?” you asked, gesturing to the chair across you.

He nodded again and you watched as he settled in, eyes not leaving yours.

The silence was thick, heavy, like the air was holding its breath. You were too.

It felt like Jisung was waiting for you to speak, but you didn’t know how to bridge the gap.

You never knew how when it came to him. Not when the distance between you had never been there in the first place.

He spoke first.

“How have you been?” his gaze was gentle, tender, a half smile rested across his lips as he spoke.

“Fine.” you choked out, really as convincingly as you possibly could.

But Jisung clicked his tongue.

He knew, you thought.

How could he not?

You and Jisung were born from the same star, he echoed your emptiness, and you reflected his light.

Of course he knew.

“Really?” he sighed, raking a hand through his now dark blue hair, “Because I haven't been.” Jisung sighed, locking his eyes with yours once again, only this time he didn't dare to look away, speaking with conviction, with determination.

“I miss you. So much. It kills me to wake up and see that you're not next to me” Jisung gulps, holding back in every aspect but verbally, “I even miss you now, when you're sat across from me, because I don't just miss seeing you, I miss knowing you.” he pauses,”I miss loving you.”

Jisung's voice is heavy with each breath he takes, and fuck, he feels like he's floating when your gaze softens beneath his, choked with tenderness for you.

He wants nothing more than to bask in the sweetness of your voice, to drown in your moonlit eyes and show you all the little stars in his heart.

Jisung's not done yet though, there's so many things left to say, too many in fact, but nothing more pressing than this.

“I regret it.”

He feels the weight lift off his shoulders, like he can sit up straighter as each syllable falls from his lips, “I regret not telling you then how much you meant to me, how much I didn't want this to happen to us.”

How much I loved you

Carefully, you listen, like every word is sacred.

You don't speak, you don't nod, you don't even move.

Scared that the slightest disturbance would fray your concentration and you'd miss every small signal Jisung sent towards you, like the fire in his soul wasn't contagious, like that fire wasn't ignited by you.

“You weren't just part of my life Y/n, and I'm an idiot for not having realised sooner. You were my life. You are my life.”

There was a pause. You didn’t know how to respond to that.

Meanwhile, Jisung's lips curl upwards unconsciously.

It had taken him half a year, six months, twenty-six weeks, one hundred and eighty-two days to finally give his truth a voice.

And God, was it liberating.

Jisung had loved you in every life, he thinks, like you were written on every molecule he ever became. Your souls intertwined. Star-crossed.

He watched closely as you processed his words, the glow in his eyes growing warmer with each second he let them rest on you. You were yet to respond, but you knew, Jisung hadn’t a care in the world aside from that, it only mattered to him that you knew.

There was a knocking at your chest, a feverish swelling, innocuous, like flowers blooming through the cracks of your ribs. Like your whole body had been struck by lightning.

But you couldn't move.

The stillness coated your limbs, spreading across your entire being, a strange sort of paralysis that only seemed to occur when he was around.

“I love you,” he said, suddenly, sharply cutting through the silence.

“I don’t expect anything,” he continued, his voice thick with regret. “I just… I needed you to know.”

His words hit harder than you expected, and you flinched inwardly, trying to keep your composure.

The ache in your chest grew, the familiar pang of loss creeping in.

You thought you had buried it, locked it away in the back of your mind, but now it was surfacing, raw and insistent.

You didn't know what you wanted from this, what you hoped would happen now. It wasn’t like before, when you could just run to him and everything felt right.

This time, it felt like a dream—something you couldn’t quite touch. Distant.

An interstellar love, but you weren't capable of defying gravity.

Or maybe you were just so damn scared that this was another moment where you'd let yourself fall for him all over again, only to end up with the same broken pieces.

Perhaps it would have been easier to hate him.

Your silence stretched on, his words lingering in the air between you.

Jisung's knee began to bob impatiently beside you, though his expression was still just as comforting as before.

He sat, awaiting your response.

“I love you.” he repeated.

“Again?” you breathed out, finally.

“Still.” he confessed. “Desperately, selfishly, irrevocably, I still love you”

Oh.

“I thought you were happy,” you managed to say, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I thought you were better off without me.”

I thought you were over me

His eyes softened, but there was something almost painfully raw in them, like a wound that had a band aid slapped carelessly over the top, unable to heal.

“I never was. But I convinced myself I could be,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I thought there was no point if i couldn't even see you, no point in us, no point fighting.”

He sighed, running his tongue across his cheek, “I was wrong, so fucking wrong.” Jisung knew that, and it had cost him everything.

You nod. Part of you wanted to leap with joy, and another part of you wanted to cease to exist.

But all of you wished he had said those words sooner.

You hadn't realised when you’d caught your bottom lip between your teeth, but it had gone raw from how you'd been constantly biting at it.

You hadn't noticed until you felt Jisung's gentle touch against your lips, his thumb guiding your lip out from your clenched jaw, his hand resting beneath your chin.

He didn't say much, instead Jisung quietly shook his head.

And then it hit you.

Every beautiful quirk, every perfect imperfection, everything that so delicately composed Park Jisung, you saw it all then.

Everything you loved.

He had the sun in his smile, the stars in his eyes, he loved like the moon, through every phase, eternal and silent. Like a promise, celestial.

It came crashing down on you, like an asteroid would the earth. Beautifully, crushingly.

“I love you too.”

It had been 6 months since you saw Jisung, and you loved him all the same, like he'd hung all the stars in the sky.

Jisung smiled at you, like a match catching fire. Like he had been waiting for ignition.

And in that instant, you realised—he wasn’t just a star in your sky.

He was a supernova, brilliant and all-consuming, collapsing and expanding in the same breath, burning, not just with you, but for you.

Love like his didn’t fade quietly; it burned, it devoured, it reshaped the very fabric of the universe.

And as the fire took hold, you didn’t run.

You let it consume you.

Because some loves aren’t meant to flicker.

Some loves are made to explode.

tags: @yizhrt @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip @blondemrk

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blueberry-rose · 4 months ago

Text

Overworked!Arlecchino x wife!reader

Warnings: fluff, nudity

Arlecchino’s been working so hard. Coming home late, she already wakes up before you and goes the bed after you, you get that her work is important but you miss being able to sit in her arms as just relax while the kids sleep. Plus you hate seeing those creases under her eyes because she not sleeping enough to the point where you will go up to her and pout until she finally goes to bed with you but that’s not helping considering you have caught her waking up at four in the morning and getting ready for work. You hate seeing her so overworked.

So you decided to do something that will make her relax at least a bit. You knew she was going to be mad at you but she’ll get over it. You turned her alarm off. Forcing her to sleep in a bit at least. You turned off your alarm too just so you had an excuse to lay in her arms longer. You felt her grip tighten stirring you from your sleep. “Mhm” you cuddled into her arms more.

“Dear, did you unplug my alarm clock?” You opened your eyes barely awake.

“What?” You questioned your eyes barely focusing on her face, her brows creasing, her face clean of makeup, her bags even more noticeable.

“Did you unplug my alarm, dear?” Her voice was more firm adding the dear to seem more gentle.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry. I had to clean behind our bedside tables.” It was a lie and Arlecchino could tell.

“Did you just lie to me”

“I can’t get anything past you” you let a pout form on your face.

“Why?” oh she’s mad.

“Because you’ve been overworking yourself. And I’m your wife so I have every right to make you take care of yourself.”

“And how dear, are you going to do that? I still can go to work for another 10 minutes and still make in on time.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep you busy until you can’t go to work”

“Oh?” You climbed on her straddling her hips, “someone’s eager” you started to press kisses to her face.

“Eager for my husband to take a day off”

“Are you wanting me to yourself today.”

“Mhm” you pressed a kiss to her lips. She quickly deepened it, her hands rest on your hips holding you in place.

“Fuck, you look so cute like this.” Arlecchino’s thumbs rubbed circles on your hips. “So what does my little wife have planned that she had to keep me home”

“I’m going to pamper you.”

“What?” Her eyes widened slightly.

“You always pamper me when I get stressed out, or overwhelmed. So I’m going to return the favor”

“Dear, I pamper you because I like to.”

“So let me pamper you this time, please” archons arlecchino can’t say no to your pleading eyes. You know she can’t.

“Fine. Just this once.” You placed a gentle kiss to her nose, before she pulled you into a kiss, her lips were so soft against yours. Her tongue easily over powering yours. She loves seeing how quickly you submit to her tongue letting her lead, she loves seeing you lose your breath just because she’s kissing you. When she finally releases your lips you were out of breath, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to hers. “Go on why do you show me how you’re going to pamper me” you got off her lap much to her disappointment.

“I might have gone out yesterday and got something’s”

“Ahh spending my money to pamper me”

“Hey, you told me that I would never have to work again when we got married so our money”

“I’m the one that makes it.”

“You make to much money for one lifetime”

“Just means I get to spend more on you”

“Be quiet will you I want to do something you for once”

“Careful what you say, dear. I don’t like when my little brat tries to take control.” You just stuck your tongue out before retreating to the bathroom. You heard her let out a sigh as you shut the door.

That’s when you started your little plan to take care you her stress. You turned on the water to a nice warm temperature, Arlecchino always liked her showers hot because of the cursed fire in her veins though she’s not picky. Cold or hot doesn’t matter. It wasn’t long before the mirrors fogged up. That’s when you grabbed the bag of stuff you brought yesterday night and hid under the sink. It had Epson salt, roses, and candles, red and black of course. You carefully remove the pedals off the roses decorating the bathroom floor with them and adding them to the bathtub. Then you set up the candles, lighting them carefully arranging them on the countertops, you sprayed the water a bit with your perfume, than added the epson salt. You know your husband is always alert, her muscles tense so you are hoping that this will help her relax. You peek out that bathroom after turning off the light bathing the bathroom in warm candle light.

You walked up to arlecchino, she finally got out of bed even with her heels off she towers over you, you never complained though, and she definitely doesn’t not with how much she calls you adorable and tiny. As so as she was within reach your started to remove her clothes, surprising her.

“You’re bold today dear,”

“Just let me take care of you, you don’t need to tease”

“Oh but you are so cute when you blush” after successfully getting her clothes off you grabbed her darkened hand pulling her in the bathroom. She stood there surprised for a second. “Dear, you did this? I might have to overwork more often”

You playfully smacked her arm. “Don’t you dare.”

“So demanding.” She tilted your head up with her index finger and thumb and placed a gentle kiss to your lips, “why don’t you join me love, I would hate to be in such a romantic setting all alone.”

“It’s supposed to be a gift for you.”

“It would be even better if I had you in my arms.”

“Fine, just let me get something first.”

“I guess I’ll get comfortable while I wait.” You left the bathroom and went to get some wine, and two cups. Hoping to spend the whole day just in her arms. And when you got but you saw your husband in the tub, eyes closed head leaning against the wall, arms resting on the side of the tub. “Welcome back dear” she didn’t even open her eyes but you can swear you see a faint smile, she rarely even shows you her emotions.

“I brought something to help you relax even more”

“Oh?” she opened her eyes turning her head to face you. “I see, my little wife is trying to make it impossible for me to get anything done today”

“Yep” you open the bottle and poured you both a cup. Handing her hers before you started to slip out of your clothes. You could feel her eyes never leaving the sight of you, like a predator to a pry. You then grabbed your wine before stepping into the tub, your wife’s legs opened so you could sit between them, you sat down in the tub the water was perfect, you let out a little sigh leaning back into your husband, her arms wrapping around you immediately.

“Looks like you needed this as much as I did”

“I am the mother of the house, I’m the one that has to deal with the children all day.”

“Yes but we have caretakers dear. You can take a day off to the little ones have older siblings that can take care of them too”

“I know. But I’m their mother I want to take care of them”

“I know dear,” she placed a gentle kiss to your head. “And you do an amazing job the kids are even more happy then I’ve ever seen them”

“Really?”

“Yes, you do amazing every day my dear. I couldn’t be prouder of you. My love.”

#arlechinno genshin #genshin x reader #lesbian #arlecchino x reader #fluff

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foone · 2 years ago

Text

Your best guess is that you've been in this time loop for something north of 15 years. You've lived that day, April 9th, 1997, something like 6000 times. You think... The second most ironic thing about being in this time loop* is that you have ADHD, and time blindness has always been something you've suffered with.

The time loop hasn't helped. You'll really get into a book, and don't look up from it until it's yesterday. Or, earlier today? Or tomorrow, it's all the same day. You wake up in your bed at 8:27, having slept through your alarm, no matter what happens. You've had plenty of time to do all the classic time loop things: told everyone (they forget the next day), kissed everyone (a surprising number of people turn out to be up for itl), tried to run (you made it all the way to Memphis one day, but it didn't make any difference), tried to make everything perfect and right (harder than you'd think, and there's nothing obvious that needs fixing), and gotten yourself exploded and shot and run over. You even made it into orbit once, NASA still swearing at you on the radio the whole way up. You've robbed all the local banks, kidnapped the mayor, and stolen half the stuff in the town, just to see what people have. Why not? It's hard to have a sense of morality when there are no repercussions to any actions, at least none that last more than 24 hours.

You convinced a scientist to shoot neutrinos at you once, thanks to something you'd read in a book on time. Didn't seem to make any difference, though you could swear the next day felt different, in some hard to define way.

You've gotten into a rhythm of starting each day and just walking out your front door, to visit a different place in the city, and knock on their door. If they're home, you ask questions, then use the answers next time to get further. If not, you let yourself in and see what their house looks like from the inside.

Even their shocking crimes no longer can shock you. Mr. Stevens is a burgler, Jenny J. is halfway through murdering her husband, Alex over on 5th street has a basement full of photos they shouldn't have, and more neighbors than you'd think are cooking meth or growing cannabis in their little backyard sheds or closets.

You can go to the police, you can confront them, you can explose them, or you can get a weapon and go all vigilante on them... It doesn't matter in the long run (and for you, the long run is very short indeed). They'll be fine the next morning, back at it again like nothing happened.

You wake up that same Wednesday morning, put on some clothes, and walk out the door. You got into a gimmick of crossing the road with your eyes closed: you know where the cars are, and if you keep the same pace, they definitely won't hit you. Besides, if you do, you wake up back in your bed. Big woop.

But you don't make it to the road this time. You trip, falling on the hard concrete of the sidewalk. What the hell? Your arms ache from catching yourself, and you have to suppress the time-looper instinct of "I hurt. Restart the loop!",at least until you figure out what happened.

You look back and there's a sneaker sitting on the sidewalk. A perfectly normal shoe, just a little skuffed up. A bit down the sidewalk, there's another, the other foot presumably.

You have a moment of equal parts panic and elation. You're out of the loop? You're out of the loop! This might be Thursday.

You gather yourself from the sidewalk and run back up the path to your door. You open the newspaper... April 9th. This is still the same day. You look back at the road, seeing the patterns of crossing cars you've seen thousands of times before. You listen, and your neighborhood sounds right. You can hear Timothy down the road yelling about baseball, so it's not 9:14 yet.

This isn't a new day. This is the day. This is your day. So why is something different? What, a partial time loop? And almost time loop? Most things are the same, but not all? It makes no sense.

You hear yelling down the road. You jog towards it, as an out of place sound just doesn't happen in your day. Around the corner there's a police officer shouting at a woman who is rapidly disrobing and flinging her discarded clothes at the officer, who is shouting at her and his radio. So far, she seems to be winning, but she's about out of linen ammunition.

You realize you don't recognize her. She's not one of the people you know, and you know everyone. She's someone new, the very anthesis of what a time loop is about. That, combined with recognizing that charicatistic disdain for consequences makes you gasp. My God... She's another time looper. She's done this day before, and it's just repeated, and now she's doing everything to see what happens. You're not alone in this crowded city anymore! You run towards her, eager to introduce yourself.

* Themost ironic thing about being in this time loop is that every copy of Groundhog Day at your local Blockbuster is checked out.

#Time loop #my writing

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chaimilkshake · 4 months ago

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Brother’s Best Friend - Nicholas Chavez x fem!reader

summary: you’re Cooper Koch’s sister, coming to visit him after his success in Monsters where you meet his co-star.

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end!

word count: 752

a/n: lmk if this needs a part two because i will write it.

Being the sibling of an actor wasn’t easy. Your older brother, Cooper, quickly became well known after Monsters blew up. To celebrate, you drove to LA to see him.

You had visited plenty of times before, living in California, but this time was different. Something in the air felt so wonderful as you drove, windows down, wind through your hair. Today was going to be good, you could feel it.

You pulled into the driveway of your brother’s house, noticing a couple of other cars, but not thinking anything of it. When you strolled up to the front door, you didn’t even get the chance to knock before the door flew open.

Cooper exclaimed your name, pulling you into a tight hug. “I didn’t know you were coming!” He said, hugging you still. You chuckled, hugging him back.

“That was the point!” The two of you stood on the porch, simply enjoying each other’s embrace for a minute before you whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

He relaxed at that, slowly pulling away to look at you properly. “Thank you.”

Before you could say anything else, your attention was drawn to the man standing at the doorway. It only took a second for you to recognize him.

“Oh! This is Nicholas. Nic, this is my sister,” Cooper said, stepping back to introduce you two.

You smiled, nodding at him.“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Nicholas nodded, although his eyes lingered over you a little bit longer than they should have.

Cooper cleared his throat, putting his hands together and smiling. “Okay, come in, come in!” He ushered, pulling you inside with them.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” you say as you walk into Cooper’s house, entering the living room.

“Oh, not at all. We were just hanging out,” Cooper explains, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him. You joined him, Nicholas taking the spot on the other side of you. “So. Fill me in. What’s new and exciting?” He asks, smiling at the cliche question and picking his drink up.

You chuckled, shaking your head. He knew how much you hated when your relatives would ask that after a long period of not seeing them. “Same old, same old. School, work, sleep, and repeat, y’know?”

“Nothing new at all? No new friends, more than friends?” Cooper teases, nudging you and sending a wink your way.

For some reason, the question makes your cheeks flush. You knew this was just Cooper being Cooper, but something about Nicholas sitting next to you made it awkward. “You’re acting like we haven’t spoken in months, I texted you yesterday,” you laughed, shaking your head. “You would already know.”

He smiles, nodding his head. “I know, I know, just teasing you. Do you want a drink?” He asks, moving to stand.

“Uh, maybe just water?” You ask, thanking him as he moves for the kitchen. Nicholas takes this opportunity to speak up.

“What school do you go to?” He asks, and it’s clear his eyes have been on you since he sat back down.

“Oh, University of California San Diego,” You nod, smiling at him. It was nice of him to fill the silence, because you know you wouldn’t have the courage to.

“Really? That’s cool. What do you do there?” He asks, sipping at his drink.

Fuck. You knew he’d ask that. You clear your throat, suddenly finding a loose thread in your shirt very interesting.

“I’m an anatomy major.”

Nicholas chokes on his drink, immediately bringing a hand up to his mouth. You can’t help but chuckle, seeing him struggle to swallow it. He laughs once he does, nodding and wiping his mouth.

“Anatomy, really?” He asks, the two of you chuckling again.

“Yup. Gonna do something in the medical field, not quite sure what yet.”

He nods slowly, putting his drink back down. “You gotta be pretty smart to do that, huh?” Nicholas asks, smiling at you.

It takes you a minute to respond, finding yourself hypnotized by him. His pretty smile, eyes, hair. Everything, really. Your smile sticks until you remember he asked you something. “Oh! Yeah. I mean, I guess. It’s not easy work,” you ramble, trying to recover from that awkward silence, feeling your face heat up again.

Nicholas laughs again, watching the color bleed into your cheeks. “Well, if you never need a reference, I’m here.”

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez fanfiction #cooper koch #fan fic #fan fiction

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stvrgxsm · 2 months ago

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afterglow | joel miller [5k]

“what am i then?” “you’re the only thing worth living for.” or joel is an asshole until he isn't.

c: smut mdni, 18+. angst. abandonment. miscommunication.

a/n: i figured i would put this out here again. please let me know what you loved and what you didn't! enjoy:)

the thing is, you really shouldn’t be surprised.

he is not yours; has never been, will never be. he is completely his own man, and he has never lied to you about that.

but sometimes, when his body curls into yours late at night, and you can feel his breath ghost over your neck– when he tucks his worn boots next to yours under the bed and smiles sheepishly when you point it out– when a woman glares at you and he pulls you closer– sometimes you pretend he’s yours.

of course, all these lovely moments are tempered by his perpetual frown. he always seems to troubled in spirit about something.

today it was some FEDRA agent overstepping the law and facing no repercussions. yesterday it was tess being cagey about the dropoff for the smuggled contraband.

joel miller is a bitter man. but sometimes he lets himself soften, and you cling to those moments like a raft in a torrential flood.

you hum as you cook dinner– it makes you feel a little better about life. these days it’s been a struggle to look forward to the next day, the next meal, the next shift. when everything in life just seems to propel your demise, nothing seems worth it.

hence the humming.

joel isn’t home yet– probably won’t be for a while. he takes extra shifts whenever he can. you’ve learned by now to not expect him home by 5.

you haven’t lived together for very long. when tess started taking on bigger jobs, she insisted she needed a separate space. she got her own apartment, and you took the one she shared with joel. at first, he insisted on taking the couch and letting you have the bedroom, but then it became an issue of too little space. with joel sleeping in your only shared room, neither of you felt comfortable with the other. you fought about it.

after that you took the left side of the bed.

it’s hard to believe you haven’t known him for that long. you’re a new addition to their team– it’s not longer just him and tess. you don’t join them on smuggling trips, but you like to think you make their lives easier with the soft things you provide for them. like your garden. or dinner.

the timer you set for the chicken dings, and you jump to pull it out of the oven. it’s beautifully cooked; the bread crumbs you’d spread on top had browned just how you wanted. you love this– the playing house. it allows you to feel like all those expensive cooking classes your parents paid for before the outbreak are finally worth something.

the meal is all prepared and set out. now it’s just the wait for joel. he’s usually home by 6:30, so you tell yourself you’ll wait until 6:45 to start eating. he’s told you time and time again not to wait for him.

you glance at the clock. 6:24. it’s not really time for him to be home yet, but it’s getting there. you eye the bottle of red that tess returned from the last trip to bill and frank’s with. you had wanted to share it with joel, but it’s getting late. surely one glass won’t hurt.

you’re tipsy, and the chicken is cold on the counter when you check the time again. 6:48. still not technically unusual. you finish your plate.

the bottle is half-gone when you finally stumble into bed. your eyes catch the clock again. 8:35. you don’t even register it.

you wake to darkness.

for a moment you lie there, trying to remember why your head hurts so bad. then you remember– the chicken, the wine, joel.

you feel around next to you for his comforting warmth, but there’s nothing there. you sit up. he’s not there. you’re alone.

“joel?” you whisper into the empty apartment.

nothing.

you swing your legs out of bed and stand on unsteady legs. your head still hurts a little, but you weren’t blackout drunk. you can expect a mild hangover, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now.

the clock reads 3:42. even if joel took the late shift, he would be home by now. even he is not so foolish as to think he can risk missing curfew by this much. something must have happened to him.

it doesn’t even occur to you to wait for him. you’re just grabbing your handgun and stuffing it into the waistband of your pants. the metal is cold against your skin, but you’re so buzzed with adrenaline and worry you barely feel it. you pull on a light sweater and open the door.

he’s not in the hall. he’s not in the stairway.

in fact, you walk the full length of your street before you’re certain he’s not there. you stand alone on the end of the street and sigh, planting your hands on your hips.

at the end of the day, what do you know about joel miller? where would he go in case of an emergency?

tess, you finally decide. he would go see tess. so off you go, across the QZ, to tess’s apartment. it’s a long walk, but you know the patterns FEDRA follows, and you know where to hide. along the way, you see no one, but you hear lots.

moans, mostly. some singing. crying. the sounds of a broken city.

tess’s apartment looms before you, and you’re suddenly struck with uncertainty. what if he’s not here? before you can stop yourself, you raise a fist and knock softly.

tess opens almost instantly, not even looking tired. her blonde hair is pulled sharply away from her forehead, into a bun at the nape of her neck. her brow furrows. “what are you doing here?”

“joel,” you whisper. “is he here?”

she steps out of her apartment and looks left and right. then back at you. she hesitates. “why don’t you come inside?”

“what happened? is he in here?” you ask as you cross her threshold. she closes the door behind you. “tess. where is he?”

she seems almost distracted as she closes all the curtains. “joel. he didn’t come home last night?”

“uh, no. look, should i be worried? i mean, i am worried! where is he?”

tess looks straight at you. “i don’t know. we did a job yesterday. nothing big– just a few pills. he kept talking about you… he was all smiley.” she frowns in thought. “there was one weird thing.”

“yes? what was it?”

“when he dropped off the pills, the FEDRA bastard asked about you.”

you’re taken aback. you don’t interact with any FEDRA officers. “i don’t even know any of them!” you protest, as though she’s accusing you of something.

“no, i know,” she’s quick to assure you. “it threw us off, too. joel kind of… lost it. i’ve never seen him like that before, and i hope i never do again.”

you hesitate before asking, “what did he do?”

tess grimaces. “let’s just say FEDRA’s down one agent.”

“oh.” you’re breathless for a moment, which confuses you, but you shove it aside. for now, you have to focus on your missing roommate-slash-partner-slash-whatever-you-are. “so where is he?”

“after that, he just ran. i thought he went home. i guess not.”

the worry that sprouted earlier is now blooming fully in your chest. it bursts out of your mouth with every breath, every word. you’re choking on it.

“where– where might he have gone?”

tess thinks for a moment. “there’s a speakeasy he talks about sometimes. it’s down by the old port. do you know where that is?” you nod. “do you have a gun?” you nod again. “do you want me to go with you?”

“no, no, it’s fine. i’m good at staying out of trouble.” you force a brief smile and start walking towards the door. she follows you out.

“will i see you tomorrow?” she asks.

it’s a double-edged question. she’s asking not only about your safety, but also about your allegiance to her and her organization. “yes,” you finally answer. “yes, you will. with joel.”

you share a smile, and then the door is shut and you’re gone. you know exactly which speakeasy tess is talking about. joel has taken you there a few times. you’ve enjoyed it every time, but he likes it more than you. you’re clinging to the hope that he’s there through the short walk, all the way up to when you rap out the code on the door.

you hear a lock unclick. faint music seeps out from under the door. FEDRA must pretend this place doesn’t exist. sometimes they turn a blind eye to something good.

your theory is proven right when you spot several FEDRA agents lounging at the bar. the dim lights help hide the block letters on their uniforms, but it seems you’re looking for trouble tonight.

your gaze immediately lands on him, and your lungs empty in one relieved gasp.

joel is in a corner, surrounded by his coworkers. he’s smiling. he’s… laughing. his hand grips a beer bottle by the neck, and you shift your weight, flustered against your will by the sight. he doesn’t see you, but in your happiness you don’t register this.

you’re at his table in mere seconds, smiling broadly despite your exhaustion. it’s 4 in the morning, but you couldn’t be happier.

then his eyes meet yours, and your stomach drops.

“what are you doing here?”

it’s joel, yes, but something’s different. he’s drunk. that’s the biggest thing. but also, he seems angry. your smile from before is gone, replaced by an angry scowl. one that has never been directed at you before.

you take a step back before you realize what you’re doing. “i… i was worried about you.” your voice sounds so small.

the men sitting around joel laugh. he doesn’t stop them, and your heart twinges in your chest. suddenly the worry from earlier is gone, replaced by a burning anger. it flushes your cheeks, it stains the breaths that spill from your open mouth. you’re blinded by it.

you’re frozen there until he speaks. he holds all the power.

finally, he looks at you. it’s almost like he’s condescending to you. “get out, little girl,” he says. it’s nothing, it’s not even a real acknowledgement of you. but his voice isn’t slurred, which tells you he hasn’t had as much alcohol as you originally thought.

“what?”

he rolls his eyes. “i said–”

“i know what you said.” you can hardly believe yourself. you can hardly believe joel. he’s never done this kind of thing before. “i waited for you. why didn’t you come home?”

joel shoots you a withering glare. “we’re not family, you know,” he finally says. “you’re a burden. you are a responsibility. i owe you nothing.” he doesn’t spare you a second glance, just turns back to the others at the table and reaches for another bottle.

you stand there for a moment, frozen, but when it becomes clear he’s done with you, you leave. the walk back to your shared apartment feels longer than usual. you’re in your head, trying to figure out a plan. what could you possibly do when joel always has the upper hand?

then it hits you. if joel wants you gone so bad, if he really wants you out, you’ll give it to him. you’ll give it to him until he chokes on it.

that night, you take all of your stuff and bolt.

you’re aware of the time constraints you’re under. joel might be drinking, but he’ll still want to be home for a shower before he goes off to work. it’s a little before 6:00 when you’re finally done. all of your things are stowed in tess’s apartment for now, until you can find your own place.

you stand there, surveying your new home. it’s bigger than the one you and joel shared, but it’s also not as comforting. you scan the kitchen and living area multiple times before you realize that it feels different because joel’s record player isn’t there. in the place where you had stored his records, tess has a cabinet of clothing.

you heave a sigh. it’s not perfect, but then again it’s not forever. just until you find an apartment. and a job. preferably one that doesn’t involve seeing joel fucking miller every single fucking day. you wonder if you can include that on the application.

tess is off doing… whatever it is she does during the day. she’s left you with a spare key and instructions to not let anyone in. the day is yours. you spend it sleeping.

you unpack when you can. it takes a few days to get fully accustomed to the new living space, but that’s normal. you’re in an entirely new home.

speaking of which… you’re not entirely sure how to thank tess. a card doesn’t seem like enough, but a cake is too much. she’s assured you multiple times that no thanks are necessary, she’s just doing what anyone would do. but you both know she’s not. the boston QZ inhabitants are not known for their generosity or charity. quite the opposite, in fact. before you fell in with tess and joel, you got your ass handed to you pretty regularly.

there’s so much you have to thank her for. you don’t even know where to start.

on your fourth day there, tess doesn’t have any plans. normally she “works”-- whatever that means– but today apparently she’s off. she comes out of her room looking fresh, clean. you begin to suspect she only showers when she has time.

but now her hair is pulled back into a bun, and her sharp face is softened with some light makeup. “hey,” she greets you with a nod.

“don’t you look nice. where’s the party?”

she laughs good-naturedly. “all dressed up with nowhere to go, i guess.” tess has a glint in her eye. you’re a little suspicious.

“what are you looking at me like that for?”

“no reason.” but she doesn’t stop.

“no seriously, come on.” you rise from the couch, setting aside your knitting. “what are you thinking?”

“i’m thinking you should go out tonight.”

“...oh.”

“with me! we’ll go to some speakeasy and drink cheap liquor that men buy for us. it’ll be fun! plus,” she adds, smiling widely, “you need a rebound.”

you groan and throw your head back. “oh, come on, what does that even mean?”

“it means you’ve been sitting on this couch for way too long. so he broke your heart.”

“it was way more than that.”

“okay, so he crushed your chance at ever finding happiness.”

“getting closer.”

“but you can’t let that define you!” she plants her hands on her hips. “what better way to show joel he was wrong than to hook up with someone else?”

“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“what better way?” she asks again.

“it’s way more complicated than that and you know it!” you stop to collect your thoughts and find yourself thinking of joel and his smile. “diseases.”

“what?”

“diseases! stds! i don’t know!” you’re gesturing wildly with your hands now, and tess is bent at the waist from laughing so hard. “it’s a real possibility!”

“that was true with joel, too!” she points out.

you’re silent for a moment. it’s only been four days– not nearly long enough for you to “get over” him. “i miss him.”

tess stares at you with wide eyes. “what?”

“i miss him.”

she sputters, “i thought you hated him!”

“i don’t hate him! he just…”

“he broke your heart! stomped on it! in public!”

“yes, i know. i was there. but, i just… i just miss him. i can’t shake the feeling that he didn’t mean it, that he wasn’t in the right state of mind.” you shrug. “maybe i’ll never know. but i just don’t feel right hooking up with someone else when i’m still in–”

you barely stop yourself in time. tess catches you anyway.

“you’re in love with him? no way.” she’s shaking her head aggressively, emphatically. “no dick is that good. no dick is worth that.”

“it’s not about his dick!” you sink back onto the couch and bury your face in your hands. you feel hopeless all of a sudden. “what if he was the one and i fucked it up?”

“you can’t fuck up the one.” she kneels in front of you and takes your hands in hers. “listen to me. if you want to go back to him, i’m not going to stop you. but he doesn’t deserve you. and if he keeps acting this way, he never will.”

you suppress a groan. it’s all so complicated, and it makes your heart ache. why isn’t love ever simple? in a world colonized by evil, why does even this have to be tainted? “i’m not going back to him,” you swear. “i just… i just miss him. i don’t know.”

“we don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.” tess shrugs sadly. “i get it if you’re like, i never want to go out again.”

“no, no, that’s not it. i just… i’m just tired.”

she gives you a knowing look. “right. well, i’m going to at least get a drink. i’ll be back later.” then she laughs. “i really will, i’m not going to curse you out in public. sorry sorry sorry so sorry i just couldn’t–”

you’re both laughing as you jump up to shove her out the front door. she shouts apologies through frantic giggling even when the door is closed behind her.

meanwhile, joel is getting his ass handed to him.

“you’re a fucking idiot,” tess scoffs. “you know she’s the best thing that ever happened to you, right?”

he frowns. “she didn’t happen to me. she was just someone else i had to take care of.”

tess stops in her tracks, forcing him to slow down. “what the fuck even is that, joel? did you even go home that night?”

he shoots her a desperate look. there are dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep. he never could sleep as well without her. “yes, okay, i did! i did go home! i meant to go apologize, but she wasn’t there. so i went to wait for her at one of the markets she mentioned. she loves cooking, so i figured– look, it doesn’t even matter. she doesn’t want to see me.” he runs a hand through his already-messy hair. “i don’t know what to do.”

“apologize, dickhead!”

“how can i apologize when she won’t even see me?” joel is getting more and more distressed as he talks about it. it suddenly hits him that if you refuse to see him, he won’t have anyone.

sure, there’s tess, but he would never tell tess about his day. he could never tell tess what he wants for dinner.

if there’s no you, who is he supposed to talk to?

tess is gesturing wildly with her hands. she does that when she gets excited or nervous. “you love her, don’t you?”

“how can i say i love her? i obviously don’t.”

“okay but you did, right?”

he hesitates. it feels wrong to say this about you when you’re not even there. “i loved her as much as you can love someone you’ve only known for a few months.”

she doesn’t waste even a second. “so then why’d you do it?”

it spills out like a broken bottle of whiskey. “she got close, tess! i was putting my boots under her bed! she gave me a massage. she told me she likes hearing about my day.” saying it out loud, joel’s beginning to realize how big a mistake he’s made. “i loved her. i love her, i just don’t know how to fix it. i’ll end up hurting her no matter what i do.”

tess stares at him. for a long moment, neither of them say anything. then he keeps going. “the last thing i want is for her to think i hate her. i don’t. i just… i miss her, and i don’t know how to fix it… i can’t fix it on my own.

“i want us to be happy,” he concludes.

well, mostly he wants you to be happy.

your happiness just happens to correlate with his.

it doesn’t often rain in boston, but when it does, it pours.

on this particular evening, you’re alone, tess having left hours earlier for something work-related. you’re still not entirely sure what she does on these work-related outings.

you’re just about to curl up on the couch with a cup of weak tea and your battered copy of pride and prejudice when there’s a brisk knock on the door. you freeze. tess has always told you never to open the door for anyone. in fact, that was the first rule she established when you moved in with her. apparently tess is something of a target, and so now you are too.

but this knock sounds familiar, and when you look through the peephole, you know why. you yank the door open.

“are you insane?”

joel just stands there, shivering. he’s soaked to the bone. “i’m so sorry,” he says. “i don’t want to waste your time. i’m so sorry.”

“what?”

“i should’ve come home, and i’m sorry that i didn’t.” his teeth are chattering from how cold it is, and part of you wants to let him inside. but the other part clings to your pride. “i’m sorry that i let them laugh at you, and i’m sorry that i said you were a burden. you are… anything but.”

you don’t say anything for a long moment. “what am i then?”

joel doesn’t hesitate. “you are the only thing worth living for.”

“what does that mean?”

“i love you,” he blurts. your eyes go wide. “i love you desperately. i love you hopelessly. i loved you as you left me, and i loved you even though i knew you would never come back to me. i loved you then as i love you now, and i understand if you want nothing to do with me. you don’t need to accept this, or even tolerate this, but i need you to know. you must know. i—“

“stop, stop.” he does. “what are you doing?”

his brow furrows. “i’m apologizing to you.”

“yes, but why?”

“what do you mean?”

“what are you trying to get out of it?” you refuse to let him back in again if it’s just to break your heart. you need to hear him say it– say anything, really, that would give you an excuse to close the door.

“i want you to be happy,” he says. like it’s as simple as that. like he really does just want you to be happy.

“i am happy,” you blurt out.

he nods. nods again. “i’m so sorry,” he says, and then he turns away.

before you know what you’re doing, you shout, “wait, no! joel!” you let go of the doorframe and reach out for his shoulder. “joel, i’m not happy. i miss you. i love you.”

you manage to pull him back towards you, and then his arms are wrapped around you and you’re burying your face in his neck. “i’m so sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “i’m so sorry.”

“i forgive you,” you breathe.

joel pulls back just slightly, still keeping his arms around you. “come home,” he murmurs.

you nod immediately, and then shake your head. “i have to leave a note for tess, she’ll be so mad if i just leave.” you drag him into her apartment with you. he follows dutifully as you search the kitchen for a sticky note, and waits while you scribble out a quick explanation.

joel came by. went home with him. thank you!!

“do you think that’ll be enough?” you ask, holding it up for him to see.

he squints at it. “i don’t know, baby. maybe just a little more.”

you flush at the petname, but if he notices, he doesn’t show it. he’s moved to your hand, clinging tightly to it as you lengthen the note. (he apologized). “is that good?”

joel hums his approval. “good job, baby.” you shift your weight, and this time you know he notices, because a smirk dances on his lips. he doesn’t comment on it.

it’s still raining by the time you leave tess’s apartment, though not as hard, and because it’s still before curfew, it’s safe for the two of you to walk home.

home. for so long joel’s apartment felt like an in-between space. a place to go to at night. it took so long for you feel safe there, and then it all fell apart. now it’s no longer a room with a bed, it’s no longer just a refuge, it’s a home.

he loves you. just thinking about it makes you smile, even as the rain pours down. joel is holding your hand, he’s calling you baby, and he’s taking you home. you don’t know how this could get any better.

and then suddenly it does, because as soon as you get home he’s kissing you in the doorway, pushing you against the door and fumbling with the lock. your breaths are labored, and you can hear his own desperate panting as he shoves the door open. he mouths his way down your neck, and you suppress a moan.

somehow, joel maneuvers the two of you into the bedroom, where he lays you down with breathtaking gentleness. you stare up at him, wide-eyed. maintaining eye contact, he slowly kneels and pulls your shorts down to your ankles, where he leaves them and looks away, choosing instead to eye your core, glistening with your slick already. he drags one finger through your folds. when you don’t say anything, he adds another, this time pressing into you lightly. you choke on a moan.

his hand retracts, and you can’t restrain the whimper that tears from your throat. “joel,” you cry. “please.”

“good girl,” he soothes you, rubbing circles into your inner thigh with his thumb. “don’t hide your noises. i want to hear how good i make you feel.”

another moan slips free. a grin stretches across his face. then he’s burying his face in your thighs and your back arches off the bed, his name spilling from your lips with reckless abandon. he’s messy with it, smearing his spit and your slick across your folds and thighs.

you know the walls are thin, but in your bliss you don’t care. all you can think of is joel, joel, joel. joel who loves you, and who is unfurling you on his tongue.

you’re so close, and then he presses his thumb to your clit and his tongue to your fluttering hole. by the time his tongue breaches your core, your orgasm overtakes you, lifting you up and away. you fall silent for a long moment, but joel doesn’t mind.

he pushes himself up to your head, kissing you through the high, bringing you back down to him. “shh, shh, shh, baby,” he coos. “you’re so good for me.”

a soft smile graces your lips, and you pull his lips back to yours, kissing him slowly. “i love you,” you whisper, and though you can’t hear it, you feel his lips mouth it back.

he shifts up, spreading your legs wider, and you know what’s coming. he keeps his mouth pressed to yours, swallowing your moan as he slides home, filling you up just right. your mind goes blank, but you’re dimly aware of how deep he is, how full you feel. if you could speak, you would tell him these things.

but as it is, all you can manage is a quiet affirmation. “you feel… you feel so good,” you whimper, eyes squeezed shut. he still hasn’t begun moving, just staying sheathed to the hilt in you. “yes, joel.”

he makes his first thrust softly. “that’s it,” joel says. “my beautiful girl.” he quickly establishes a rhythm, sliding in and out to the tune of your whines and cries.

“please, joel, please,” you whisper, fisting the sheets in your hands. “please kiss me.”

you don’t have to ask again. instantly, his lips finds yours. he groans into your mouth and braces his hands on your hips, holding you there while he pushes into you over and over.

it’s not that long before you can feel your orgasm approaching again. “joel, i’m– i’m gonna come,” you say, eyes squeezed shut.

“go ahead, baby,” he commands. “come for me.”

with one final thrust, he’s spilling into you as you come apart around him. “joel,” you mewl. he’s still buried deep inside you, his forehead resting on yours as you both float down.

when he pulls out, it’s cautious and gentle, and you can feel his love for you. your eyes drift shut, and you’re dimly aware of him walking away, but for once it doesn’t bother you. you know he’ll come back.

he loves you.

as it turns out, he does come back, holding a warm cloth. he wipes you clean and helps you to the bathroom so you can rinse off. he follows you into the shower wordlessly, pressing kisses to your shoulders and forehead.

that night, as you lie in bed and feel him curl into you, you don’t have to pretend anymore. he really is yours.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #tlou #the last of us #the last of us x reader #fanfiction #the last of us imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine

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zepskies · 5 months ago

Text

Lost on You - Part 10

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: And we’re back! In today’s episode, we have a very special guest. 😉

Also, just so you guys know, my podcast interview with the Idling in the Impala podcast is now live! For all the timestamps of key moments, fic recs, and SPN writer shoutouts, see this post (you'll find the link to the video there too).

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 6.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, angst, drug use, PTSD, violence, and another big reveal…

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 10: I Need a Hero

Revenge could wait for one more day.

It all can wait, Ben thought. Despite how vehement he was yesterday, today, he was reminded of how good it felt to sleep in a warm bed with a beautiful woman.

He laid there behind you, on his side. He’d woken up to the sound of music somewhere downstairs, maybe in the dining room.

What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.

You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward.

Still moans in her sleep.

He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.

His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.

“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said. “Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat.

For so long after that day, he hated you. He told himself that he didn’t give a shit about whatever was happening to you, because you clearly didn’t give a shit about him.

But the long months wore on to longer years, alone in the dark. Too often, your words would rattle through his head, reach through his chest with ragged claws. No matter how much he fought it, all he had time to do when he was alone, was think.

He vacillated between stubborn, angry indignation, and rethinking every interaction he had with you, with Countess, the rest of the team, and beyond. Slowly, he allowed himself to retrace his steps. If only in his mind, he began to regret certain things…at least where it came to you.

Ignoring you was both harder and easier, since he couldn’t see you.

That all changed a few days ago.

Eisenstein returned to his cell, but this time he wasn’t alone. Two guards held you bound and gagged. You were just as shocked to see him as he was you.

It felt like he was suspended in time.

He saw the signs of aging in your face, but it didn’t matter. Even now, you were beautiful.

The spell of it broke when they threw you down onto the metal table usually reserved for him. He saw now that they had you in a straitjacket to keep your hands covered. The anger built inside him, almost incandescent in his veins.

“What the fuck is this?”

The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.

A realization soon dawned on Ben, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. He saw your terror, the way you wordlessly pleaded with him, asking for help with your eyes.

Part of him still hated you, but he couldn’t take it. He wouldn’t allow this sick bastard to hurt you again. Not right the fuck in front of him.

You were still his.

His hand traveled down your bare shoulder, over the gentle slope of your side, and down the curve of your hip under the covers. You shifted and hummed, edging toward wakefulness. Ben settled in from behind, protectively embracing his body around yours in a perfect fit. He began kissing along your neck, slowly.

“Hmmm I’m sleeping,” you said, keeping your eyes closed. He smirked. His lips became more insistent, along with his hand spanning your thigh.

“Wake up, then,” he said. He teased the shell of your ear with his tongue, dragged your earlobe between his teeth. You shivered.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you retorted, smiling.

Ben huffed. “Yeah, keep being a fucking brat. That’ll get me to stop.”

His beard rasped against your skin as his lips found a path down the column of your throat. Acquiescing to open your eyes, you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more room. Meanwhile, his cock pressed insistently against your ass.

You smirked and shifted your hips, grinding back against him. “Maybe I like working you up.”

“Oh yeah?” He moved your thigh over his to spread your legs for him. There the warm, blunt tip of his cock pressed at your entrance, nudging you open with shallow thrusts. You moaned in response, reaching back to slip a hand in his hair.

You were a wanton little thing, he thought, even as he reached around to bury his fingers in your pussy. Already finding wetness between your folds, he gathered some of it and rolled your clit smoothly between his fingers. You gasped his name, your hips bearing down against him.

He took the opportunity to sheathe himself all the way inside you, until his hips were snug against your ass. You made a sound of pleasure that had his balls clenching on reflex. Your voice was a curse, even without your powers.

For once, he fucked into you slowly, with long, unhurried strokes that still managed to rock the bed. Ben was surprised the frame and springs hadn’t given up yet.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear me?” he said, close to your ear. He punctuated his words with deeper thrusts. “Say you understand.”

“Yes,” you agreed on a gasp.

“Yes, what?” He laid more tantalizing kisses along your neck and jawline. “Tell me.”

“I’m yours,” you said, in a coarse whisper. Ben claimed your lips in a kiss, before he kept moving inside you in languid strokes.

You were a moaning mess, your eyes squeezed shut. You grabbed at your breasts and kneaded them yourself, rolling and pinching your nipples. He strummed more insistently on your clit, until he felt your inner walls finally start to throb around him.

Your orgasm hit you in a slow, long wave as you pressed your face into your pillow. And you clenched so impossibly tight on his cock, it triggered his release as well. His arm curled around your middle and pressed you tight against him as he uttered a sharp grunt. He finished hot inside you, panting heavily into your neck afterward.

“Well, good morning,” you quipped, despite trying to catch your breath as well.

Ben’s hazy reverie broke into a chuckle. He dropped a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “Whatever.”

When he pulled out of you, you shivered a little. He rolled onto his back, and regardless of the mess in the sheets, you turned over to rest your elbow on his pillow, leaning over him.

“I should probably tell you something,” you said.

He eyed you in suspicion. “What now?”

You smiled and laid a hand on his chest, dragging your nails through the fuzz there.

“My family’s from Brooklyn, not a small town in Indiana,” you confessed. "Made it up to make me seem more...down to earth. Doe-eyed and likeable."

Ben’s brows shot up. He took a moment to process that information, then he shook his head.

“Fucking figures.” His arm lowered to curl around your lower back, caging you against him.

“I grew up in a brownstone that we had to share with two other families,” you said.

“So you were broke.”

“Yep. When I was born, my family spent all their savings to contract with Vought, to give me Compound V,” you explained. “Their plan was something like, if I became a famous superhero one day, I’d bring us out of our shitty life.”

Ben sighed, shaking his head. “So they pimped you out to Vought.”

“Essentially,” you said. You paused. He could see it was difficult for you, but you talked more about your life—the expectations from your parents, the training, the grueling schedules and the robbing of your childhood.

“When my mom died, I…I realized just how much they took from me,” you said, gazing up at him. “Isn’t that horrible?”

Again, Ben shook his head. His hand had been caressing up and down your back, but it stopped now. Part of him was still reluctant, but he told you about the biggest lie of his life. That he hadn’t grown up poor or struggling. That his father practically owned half of Pennsylvania, and Ben had been a spoiled rich kid. He’d also gotten kicked out of boarding school after starting a fight.

“My father said I wasn’t worthy of his name,” he said, with a wry turn of his lips. “So I went out, talked to some of his golf buddies in the War department, and got myself into the Vought program. I became Soldier Boy.”

You listened with rapt attention. Not interrupting him, just giving him the time he needed to find his words.

“When I came home after the war, my mother was just as proud as she’d ever been,” he recounted. But he didn’t smile. “My father took a good look at me, maybe for the first time in my life. And you know what he said?”

You gave him a questioning look, silently prodding.

“He said I took a short cut. ‘A real man wouldn’t have cheated,’” he said.

When he eventually met your gaze, you at least didn’t look pitying. Just understanding.

“I guess we both have daddy issues, huh?” you said.

Ben shook his head. Then he eyed you. “You don’t look that surprised by all this.”

You smiled, a little sheepish. You stroked your thumb across his chin.

“I can sense when a man is lying to me, remember?” you said pointedly. “I clocked you a long time ago, pal. Mostly any time you told some fake war story... You didn't fight in the war, did you?”

He frowned in offence, even though you both knew he couldn’t deny it.

"I was there," he said.

You gave him a knowing look. "Ben."

"I fucking would've, all right, but by the time I got there it was pretty much..." He waved a dismissive hand. His brows were crunched along with his worsening frown. You felt his embarrassment, and as a result, his agitation. You were glad to finally get the truth in his own words, but you didn't want to work him up in that way either.

You tried softening him with a kiss to his cheek. You rubbed a soothing hand over his arm.

“So what do you want to do when we get our lives back?” you asked, purposefully changing the subject. “After the whole payback thing.”

Ben sat up with you against the headboard. His upset slowly faded away with your ministrations, your gentle touch, and his expression fell into contemplation.

“I always thought I had time, but uh…I thought I’d eventually settle down. Have a couple of rugrats of my own. Raise a family,” he said. “Thought I could do it better than my old man.”

You tilted your head at him with a certain measure of surprise. Out of everything he might’ve said, that one didn’t occur to you. Although, with his upbringing, you supposed it made sense. You smiled.

“You might have a few of those out there somewhere,” you said.

He chuckled. “I've always thought so.”

He looked at you in a way he hadn’t before, a bit gentler, with something else you couldn’t name. Your face warmed as something fluttered in your lower belly.

“So tell me then. What do you want?” he asked.

Once you worked through that bit of nerves, you thought about his question. It took you longer than you thought it would to come up with an answer, but when you did, it was the most honest thing you could think of.

“I want to be happy.”

He paused, not expecting that answer. Then he nodded, with a short hum.

You sighed. “Okay, if you really want to go after Vought, I think I have an idea of where we should start.”

I can’t believe it. This thing still fits me pretty well, you thought. You twisted in the mirror to examine yourself in your old black and violet supe suit, though you didn't bother with the mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was already with your generous host, sat with widespread legs on the couch while he smoked a large blunt. His smoke coiled out lazily.

“You gotta believe me, I didn’t know what they were planning,” said Arthur Cohen. AKA: The Legend. He had been forced into a chair, though Ben hadn’t bothered tying him up. The man knew better than to make a false move. He was a decade older, and lucky for him, even wiser.

His penthouse apartment in New York looked more or less the same. Hit records and old successful movie posters adorned the walls, like a true has-been.

“Yeah, you said that fifty fucking times already,” Ben snarked. “What you haven’t said, is why.”

“To be honest, I never asked,” Arthur said. His expression soured. “Stillwell and Stan Edgar shivved me out of that decision, those uppity fucks. Then they got me fired on some technicality.”

“Allegations of embezzlement, or so I heard,” you said, reentering the room.

Arthur raised a finger. “Not true. That money was well earned backpay.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I know you’re lying, right?” You approached the men and crossed your arms. “What’s the lay of the land now?”

“Well, Stillwell’s the new me. Stan’s the new CEO. They disbanded Payback after you disappeared. The others are either working new gigs or are in early retirement. But I heard Vought’s working up to creating a new team.”

You nodded and shared a glance with Ben. He looked a little too chilled out right now. Apparently, Arthur had the good stuff.

“Before we jump into the frying pan with this, I want to go see my family,” you said. “Would you…want to go with me?”

Ben blew out more smoke, gesturing at Arthur. “I’ll keep this one company until he finds our old team. Make sure he doesn’t fuck off to Rio.”

You felt the sting of disappointment, but you sighed and agreed.

“Just…wait for me to get back before you go anywhere,” you said. You saw Ben prickle a little at being “told” what to do. You lowered down to his lips.

“Please?” you said, plying him with a kiss, and a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I’ll be back soon.”

He tightened his hand on yours. His gaze drew over you, briefly with more clarity through his high.

“Fine,” he said. “Be careful.”

You nodded with a smile, giving him one more kiss goodbye.

Your father was the longer drive north than your brother’s house in Queens, so you headed up to find the former first after borrowing a car from Arthur. According to him, your father had moved upstate to Albany after your “death.”

Now, you understood why.

He lived in a two-story house on a whole acre of land, complete with three cars, a pool, and oh yeah, his new girlfriend. She looked good hanging off his arm in Atlantic City, as you saw from a picture on the wall—after you broke into the house, that is. To be fair, they’d left the sliding glass door open in the backyard.

Your dad was dressed like he just got home from the golf course, walking over from the kitchen to the living room. He dropped his glass of wine in shock when he saw you standing there, admiring the only framed picture of you, your mother, and Chris on one of the display shelves. Glass shattered across the hardwood floor.

“Hey, Dad,” you said. You turned to him, not bothering to hide your disdain.

He gaped for a few seconds as he tried and failed to make his mouth work. He pointed at you with a shaking hand, your name finally falling from his lips.

“It’s a beautiful place,” you said. You gestured widely at your surroundings. “It’s nice to see that you finally got what you wanted.”

He tried to go to you, to embrace you, but you held out a hand. Your lips trembled as you fought the onslaught of your emotions. If he touched you, you might not have been able to control your actions.

“Did you give any of the settlement money to Chris and his family? Or did my death just make you rich,” you asked.

Your father’s eyes closed. He released a heavy sigh before he was able to meet your gaze again.

“He wouldn’t take any of it,” he admitted.

Your tears stung in your eyes as you smiled a little. “Sounds like him.”

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Again, he tried to get closer to you, and again, you held him off.

“The only thing I need from you is to keep doing what you’re doing,” you said. “Keep living your life like you no longer have a daughter.”

With that, you stalked out of the house and shot out the door, back to your car, no matter how much he called out after you. You got into the driver’s seat and beat the wheel once, twice, venting your frustrations. But you forced yourself to take in deep breaths to calm yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes.

He wasn’t worth it.

You wondered if you should go see Chris though. Would it be safe for him and his family? Was Vought watching them as a contingency, if you ever escaped?

You weren’t sure. You rucked through your purse lying in the passenger seat for the weird “cell” phone Arthur had lent you. You wanted to check in with Ben first, before you went anywhere else.

You started to dial, but a gloved hand shot out and injected a needle into your neck. You startled at the sharpness and the feeling of a chemicals rushing through your body. Your eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

All you saw was a blurry, black mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was fucking plastered.

He had been ever since you left yesterday morning. In his unrest, he’d moved on to a handful of whatever opiates Arthur kept in his medicine cabinet.

Christ I’m fucking bored.

He glanced down at the phone in his lap. The one Arthur gave him, along with a list of numbers that had been taped to the fridge. The first number on the list was the cell phone you were carrying. Ben read the rest of them.

Pizza place. Chinese. Swedish massage—hmm, there’s an idea. Handy man. BEST escort service…

Ben rose a brow. An inebriated smile curved his lips.

“What makes it the best escort service?” he asked, and loudly. Enough that Arthur came over from where he’d been making calls in his office, trying to find the rest of his former teammates’ whereabouts.

Arthur raised a brow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea right now?”

Ben shot him a terse warning look. The other man raised his hands.

“Eh, I’m three times divorced. What do I know?” he said, but he sighed and gave Ben a long look. “It just seems to me that you and Sirena got a good thing goin’, that’s all.”

The thought of you managed to cut through the haze of drugs clouding Ben’s mind. He frowned.

“That’s how Missus #1 caught me, with one of my ex-assistants in the jacuzzi,” Arthur said, with a mild grimace on his face. “She got that house in the divorce. Well, that and the kids.”

Ben looked over at him blankly.

Heaving a sigh, Arthur went back to his office.

Ben glanced down at the list of numbers in his hand, and the cell phone in the other. What the fuck was taking you so long then?

He dialed the first number on the list—your number. It rang several times, but you never answered. He called you again, waited a few minutes, then called you a third time. You weren’t answering.

His frown worsened, along with a suspicious prickling up his spine. Fuck...

He'd felt it the moment he let go of your hand, but he'd been too out of his mind to actually listen to his instincts; the same ones that warned him not to let you out of his sight. And more importantly, not to let you go.

He got up from the couch and stormed into Arthur’s office, shoving the door open. Arthur jumped in his seat.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“She’s not picking up the fucking phone,” Ben said. He paused. “Something’s wrong.”

Arthur didn’t ask him the predictable question: how do you know? He just took in the look on the supe’s face and knew it wouldn’t be wise arguing. He tried calling your father's home, but all the man would say was, "She left. She's gone."

Arthur hung up with the man, and for a long moment, he sat pensively while Ben angrily paced the small office, like a tiger confined in its enclosure.

“It’s possible that Vought knows you guys made it back,” Arthur said. At the dark look on Ben’s face, the other man rubbed his chin with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to track her down for ya. In the meantime, I’ve got Countess’s address. Maybe she'll even have an idea of where to look for Sirena.”

He slid a piece of paper toward Ben across his desk. He grabbed it, pointing a threatening finger at Arthur.

“Find her.”

You woke with a groan. You knew a drugging when you felt one, and this was it. Someone had given you a powerful sedative.

You were alone in a white padded cell, lying on a cot. It was all too familiar.

Except for the tall figure in black standing in the middle of the room, watching you. You gasped with a jolt, pressing your back against the wall after you sat up. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Irving?”

Black Noir stepped closer until he was sitting beside you on the cot. Tentatively, he raised a hand up to touch your cheek with gentle, gloved fingers.

Your shock gave way to anger. You slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?!” you said sharply.

Noir backed off at once, as if you’d struck him a real blow. He got up, went over and grabbed a dry erase board that had been lying against the far wall, along with a marker off the floor. He wrote something down on it, then he showed you.

You shouldn’t have come back to NY.

You frowned, both at what he “said,” and in confusion. Why wouldn’t he just talk to you?

“What did you expect?” you asked incredulously. “For me and Ben just to disappear forever? To let you keep ruining our lives?”

Noir paused at that. He tilted his head with a long look at you. With your abilities, you were able to sense that he was disheartened, and even angry. He erased the board with his arm and wrote something else.

Do you love him?

You blinked at the question.

“Who?” you asked, even though you knew.

Soldier Boy

Emotion rose high in your throat, but you worked past it with a swallow, and a deep breath.

“That’s none of your business,” you said.

Noir just stared at you, his head tilting forward. The longer he stood there, watching you, waiting for an answer, the longer you prickled with unease.

He erased the board and wrote the same question again. He held it out for you to see, shaking it once in emphasis.

Do you love him?

You hesitated, but you didn’t want to lie anymore, even to yourself.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “I know what he’s done, believe me, but he isn’t a monster.”

Noir’s head twitched. You felt his anger intensify. He dropped the board onto the floor, startling you, but all he did next was slowly raise his hands to take off his helmet. He showed you what was left of his mottled, disfigured face—the burnt skin and the divot in his skull that had never fully healed.

Your mouth parted in shock as tears sprung in your eyes. You tried to avert them, but Noir stepped forward and grabbed your jaw, turning your face up to his and forcing you to look. Your lips trembled, but you met his gaze unflinchingly.

When he seemed to be satisfied, he released you and stepped back. He placed his helmet back on.

“I understand why you hate him,” you said at last. “But you made your choice when you let them take me too. You…you changed everything for me.”

You were satisfied to feel a lance of Noir’s guilt. You had scars too, and most of them weren’t physical.

“I’m not going to apologize for my choices now,” you said, with a firm glare. “So unless you’re going to kill me, you can fuck off, before I scramble what’s left of your head.”

Your eyes glowed with your power. You opened your mouth to begin your siren’s song, but Noir turned on his heel and exited the door, leaving you alone in the cell.

A fucking chimp sanctuary. Really? Ben thought as he broke into the boundary of the reserve. About a quarter mile into the tall grass, he found a large, if rundown country style house in the middle of the woods.

“Yes, Big Daddy. I’m almost ready for you. Just let me heat these up…”

Ben raised a brow, but he gritted his teeth and kicked through the front door. There she was, Crimson Countess in all her glory, holding a set of anal beads.

She gasped at the sight of him, but she ignored the “client” on speaker on her landline phone, and dropped the beads so she could aim a fiery blast at the intruder.

Ben jumped out of the way and tossed his shield. It hit her square in the chest and sent her flying back into the wall, destroying a bookshelf and the dining table. He walked over to it with slow, heavy steps.

She raised her head with a groan, but then, her eyes watered with disbelief…and fear, when she looked up at him.

“Ben?” she said. “My God…it’s really you, isn’t it? You... you look the same.”

“You don't,” he remarked. He lowered down to grab her by the collar of her suit and raise her out of the rubble.

“How much did the Russians pay you, Donna?” he asked calmly.

She struggled to escape, her nails scraping at his gloved hand. He tightened his hold.

“They didn’t,” she admitted. Tears leaked from her eyes under her mask.

“They didn’t pay you anything?” he said through clenched teeth. “Then why?”

You know why, came sneaking voice in his mind. He tried to pay it no heed, but Donna sneered at him.

“Because,” she spat. “I fucking hated you. We all did.”

Ben’s lips pulled at a humorless smirk. His chest prickled with heat. “I should’ve known you were a bunch of sniveling, backstabbing, fucking cowards.”

“Kill me then,” she taunted. “Is that gonna make you feel better? Going to make you feel less empty inside?”

Ben’s chest began to get that nuclear glow, but he managed to fight it down, back into embers.

“Not yet,” he said. He drew her in closer. She held onto his wrist, her feet scrambling over the debris on the floor.

“I need to find someone,” he said. “And you’re going to help me.”

Ben and Donna sat across from each other on her living room couch, with the landline sat between them. The phone was on speaker as it rang. The longer it took, the more annoyed he became.

“This better work,” he said. She gave him a flat look.

Finally, a woman answered the phone.

“Good afternoon. Stan Edgar’s office. How may I assist you?”

“Hi Gloria, it’s me, Donna,” she said. “I need to speak with Stan as soon as possible, please.”

“Ooh, I’m afraid he’s in a meeting.”

“Trust me, he’s going to want to take this call.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid his next availability isn’t until next week. And next month if you want an in-person meeting.”

“Just tell him to call me back asap!” She said, hanging up the phone in a huff. Ben gave her an unimpressed look.

“That was your big fucking plan?” he said.

She huffed. “You think breaking into Vought is going to be easy? Let alone finding that weasel. He’s got the best security money can buy, and by the way, finding where they’re keeping your little girlfriend isn’t going to be any easier. They could’ve stashed her literally anywhere by now.”

You think I don’t fucking know that? Ben got up from the couch with an angry breath. He turned away from her and rubbed at his beard in contemplation. He shouldn’t have let you go anywhere alone.

I should’ve been there. The thought gripped him, deep in his gut. Guilt was an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling.

“We’re going to need help,” Donna said.

His bad mood took a turn for the worst. He glanced back at her.

“What, the rest of the fucking Scooby gang?” he snarked.

“Or you can try going in alone, guns blazing,” she shrugged. Her sharpened gaze met his. “How fast do you think they’ll kill her, just to spite you?”

Ben’s jaw clenched. Donna leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

“Or worse. They’ll put you back in a box and ship you back to the Russians,” she said. Her snide smile had him clenching his teeth. “Either way, you’ll never see her again.”

With everything in his being, Ben wanted to fry this bitch to Kingdom Come.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving.”

Donna’s expression fell. “What?"

"You heard me!" he barked, grabbing her arm to pull Donna to her feet. "Get the fuck up."

She struggled against his grip. "Where’re we going?”

“To find those fucking Twins.”

They took her car, a tiny sedan. Evidently, the end of Payback hadn’t been good for Donna’s career. Arthur had told him that, irony of ironies, she now sang at a Soldier Boy tribute act at Voughtland to pay her bills. And as he’d seen earlier, she needed to pad her income in other ways.

She was driving them up to Vermont. It was going to take days, and Ben was already sick of her.

It was a small blessing when they stopped at a gas station in the nighttime. She gave him her credit card to buy some snacks for the road while she filled up the tank. (He took the keys with him as insurance that she wouldn't bolt with the car.)

He returned with a far bigger bag than she expected. She forgot what a human garbage disposal he could be. He tossed the card back at her.

“Your card’s maxed out, by the way,” he said.

She glared at him, but she endeavored to let it go with a sigh, raising a hand to her temple. How the fuck had this become her life?

To minimize being overheard, she stepped closer to him while the gas pump kept going on her car.

“Gunpowder is the easiest one to find next. Mindstorm’s probably hiding in a hole in the middle of the woods some-goddamn-where,” she said, keeping her voice down. She gave her unwanted companion a sly look. “Though I’m thinking you want Mindstorm to stay wherever he retired.”

It brought up an unsavory memory.

After the team turned on him, Mindstorm had been the one to lock his gaze on Ben. For a moment, his feet had been rooted to the ground while Mindstorm tried to shove him deep into his mind. It had given someone the opening to slip a mask of Novichok over his face. He suspected it had been Countess.

Now, Ben turned to her with a glare at her audacity.

“You know, for a massive cunt, you’ve got some brass balls,” he said dangerously. “How the fuck didn’t I see what a vindictive little snake you were from the beginning?”

Donna scoffed in derision.

“I’m vindictive? Says the cheating, lying, bastard,” she snapped.

“Oh, shut your hole. You knew what I was doing, and you didn’t give a shit,” he said with a glare. He leveled a finger at her. “You used me to get exactly what you fucking wanted. Fame, money, and all the perks that come with it.”

Her lips pursed, like she didn’t want to admit it. But if they were airing out dirty laundry, then she wasn’t pulling any more punches.

“Well, I wasn’t the only one. Was I?” she said. “Anyone who ever smiled at you, fawned over you, or sucked your dick was trying to get something from you. Or, they were scared of you. Because you’re a bully. A fucking monster. And sooner or later, Sirena won’t be able to stomach you anymore.”

The thin leash on his temper finally snapped. He reacted, reaching out to grab her by the throat. He was truly thinking about breaking her neck.

Donna choked for air and gripped his wrist. “Without me, you’ll have no one. Good…fucking…luck finding her.”

Ben was furious, but he battled it down, expelling a breath of frustration.

He released her. She coughed and gasped and stumbled a few feet away from him, glaring at him all the while through her fear.

When she was eventually able to stand again, she and Ben shared a look of mutual loathing, but also, of understanding.

It was an uneasy truce. For now.

You were quickly unraveling alone in the dark.

You felt the phantom cold of your old cell. No matter how you rubbed your arms through the leather of your supe suit, you couldn’t get warm. You released a shaky breath and swiped at your tears.

You missed Ben. He had to know by now that you were in trouble, but you didn’t know if he’d know how to find you. Or worse, if they found him first.

You steeled yourself and tried to calm your panic. You counted to thirty. Your eyes flit to every small detail of your cell that you could name: the small crack in the gray linoleum tile, the line of ants slowly creeping along the corner, the brittle wool blanket you were sitting on, laid over your cot.

When your breathing was steady, you tried to think. You didn’t know where you were, of course, but you could try to sense how big the building was.

You did something you rarely did. You cast your awareness outward as far as you could reach.

There were very few male energies, and you only picked up on a few scattered thoughts.

Until you found one. It felt…strong, but young. A kid?

Jesus Christ, what’re they doing in this place? you thought.

What…who’s there?

You heard the voice in your mind, small and afraid and lonely. Before you could answer him, the door of your cell opened to a few familiar faces.

There was an older man in a lab coat that you recognized, but you couldn’t place his name until you read his monogram. Vogelbaum. Followed by Stan Edgar and Black Noir, who came to stand behind you. You knew that if you made any wrong moves, Noir would kill you this time.

Quickly you read their energies as you observed them.

Vogelbaum gave off mild interest in you, but it felt clinical. Stan felt resigned and calculating as he took you in.

“For what it’s worth, I do wish it hadn’t come to this, Sirena,” Stan said. “We didn’t intend for you to get caught up our deal with Russia.”

He may have been telling the truth, but that didn’t mean you cared.

“You’re in the most secure lab we have,” he said, gesturing to your wall-to-wall cell without windows. “No one knows you’re here, and no one will find you.”

You smiled dryly. “So what do you want from me?”

“I want to know how you and Soldier Boy escaped the facility in Russia,” he said, gathering his hands behind his back.

What he really meant was, How did you escape? So we can make the next cell even more effective.

You leaned forward and spat at his shoes.

Black Noir grabbed you by the back of your neck and yanked you back. Your jaw clenched in anger, but you didn’t struggle. Even if you opened your mouth to sing, Noir would snap your neck before your powers had time to affect him.

Stan remained unaffected by your outburst, though he glanced down at his shoes.

“These are handmade Italian leather,” he remarked.

“Even if you find Ben, you’ll never be able to kill him,” you said tersely.

“We don’t need to kill him. Nor will we need to find him,” Stan said. “He’s already looking for you.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart swelled with both hope and dread, though you tried to hide it.

“We have a plan to neutralize him. Several, in fact,” he added, and spread his hands wide. “Until then…welcome home.”

Smug bastard. You glared back at him.

He left, along with Vogelbaum. Black Noir glanced back at you once, then he was gone.

The lights in your cell turned off, leaving you in darkness. You heaved a breath and couldn’t help the tears that found hot paths down your cheeks. You curled your knees up on the cot and held them to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if you could pretend the room wasn’t pitch black. You focused your breathing, in and out, until your heartbeat began to slow down from its panic.

The kid, you remembered.

You licked your dry lips and tried casting your awareness out again. When you found the familiar energy from before, you reached out to him.

Hey, are you there? you prodded.

Who the hell are you?

It’s okay. Don’t be scared, you said, and you gave him your name. Are you locked up here?

Y-Yeah.

I’m sorry to hear that. I am too.

How can you be talking to me…in my head?

Well, it’s complicated, you admitted. It’s a new power I’m trying out, thanks to my time as a human test subject.

Something told you this kid knew the feeling.

What’s your name? you asked.

Um…John. I’m John.

AN: 🤭 Oh, yeah, we're going there.

How did you like getting Ben's perspective on things? And his "forced" team up with Countess to find the rest of the cast of Payback. 😬 What could possibly go wrong?

Next Time:

Ben hated to admit it (so he wouldn’t), but she had a point. It took him a minute to wrangle in his ire, taking deep breaths to try and calm the power inside him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

This time, it actually did.

His hand fell back to his side, letting the younger man breathe freely.

“Let’s go.” Ben turned on his heel and headed out.

“Where, uh…where’re we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his sore neck.

“Looks like we’re getting the team back together,” Ben said grimly.

He tilted his head.

“Well. What’s left of it.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 11

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hairyjocktf · 11 months ago

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Hey bro!! I'm heading out to the beach, I just bought myself some new flip flops, and some swim shorts that I think show of my tight ass really well

I'd love to be a beach bum bro, but maybe I'm not cut out for it... maybe you can help me out a bit? Set me on the right path yknow

Totally man! Let’s get you beach body ready.

You walk out onto the beach in your new flip flops and tight swim trunks, aiming to attract some eyes today. You’ve never been the beachy type but now’s as good a time as ever right?

After walking around for a few minutes you find a nice spot to set up your towel and settle for a few hours, but as you lay out the towel something catches your eye. Something’s happening to your feet in those brand new slides. You see what looks like tiny dark hairs popping out of the top of your foot, slowly pushing out and growing longer. Those hairs quickly begin to spread though, and suddenly the tops of your feet are absolutely coated. Even your toes begin to sprout hairs, as they seem to be pushing out away from your foot, growing longer and bigger. The flood of dark hair doesn’t stop there though, as it quickly rushes up your pale legs. They darken by multiple shades as thick hairs worm their way out, growing thick and dense across your shins and up over your thighs. They tangle together as it looks like you’ve glued a rug to your lower half!

You’re frozen with panic as you watch hair continue to spread up your body. Quickly you glance around. Is anyone else seeing this? What’s happening to you? So far nobody seems to have noticed. You lay down on the towel to try and cause less suspicion as you try and figure out what to do. The guy at the store yesterday said you’d be “a real sight to see” on the beach, but this isn’t what you wanted! You feel an intense itching inside your trunks and you pull up the waistband to look. Your small bush has erupted with size, and right before your eyes thick curly hairs are pushing out of your groin, spreading out quickly. You let go and hide the pubes back under those stylish trunks, but the hair has other plans. It begins sprouting up above your waistband, quickly giving you a thick treasure trail traveling up your stomach. The trunks also begin feeling tighter than you remember, and you reach behind only to feel your ass growing in size. Those new swim shorts are getting tight and really showing off your ass… as well as your growing bulge. You can’t help but feel a little turned out watching your own body change in front of you.

It’s not done yet though, as that hairy treasure trail reaches your pecs and explodes outward, covering you in a thick pelt of dark hair. You can barely see the skin underneath as hairs continue to sprout in between old ones, creating a truly dense rug. It even stretches up over your shoulders and you can feel the prickles of hair sprouting across your back. Your bulge only grows larger and more noticeable as the sensation of the hair growing in electrifies you. Your moderately hairy pits bush out, dark wiry hairs making themselves known even with your arms at your sides. Your forearms are similarly coated in thick fur, darkening your previously fair skin. Finally, you feel a strong itch on your jaw as a five o’clock shadow forms. It doesn’t last long though, quickly pushing out into a thick stubble and then a short beard, coating your face in a dark masculine shadow. You groan as you cum a little in your tight swim trunks, overtaken by the pleasure of turning into a full on bear. The rage you had felt at the shopowner was already gone, replaced by the need to get out and show your new fur.

Enjoy your day at the beach!

#male tf #hairy tf #hairy #hairy chest #hairy pits #beard #hair growth #my writing

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sohyxn · 1 year ago

Text

UNSPOKEN LONGING⠀───⠀minatozaki sana.

TAGS : fluff, angst, friends to lovers, oblivious sana, pining, reader can't take it anymore 💔, college au

SYPNOSIS : constant rejection makes you decide to avoid sana at any cost. what will happen if sana realizes your absence and confronts you for it?

NOTES : happy belated birthday to our sana, i was supposed to post this yesterday but something comes up. anyway this is really shitty but pls enjoy <3

it was another ordinary day at college, but for yn, it felt anything but ordinary. the weight of unrequited love had become a burden she could no longer bear. countless times, she had confessed her feelings to her friend — sana, only to be met with rejection. but today, yet again yn determine to confess her feelings towards the latter.

yn's heart pounded in her chest as she stood in front of sana's class, waiting for the beauty to finish her class, her hands trembling with anticipation. she had gathered all her courage to confess her feelings once again, hoping that maybe — just maybe this time sana would finally reciprocate it.

after what feels like years, sana's figure finally appeared and yn approached her. "hey sana, there's something i need to tell you," yn began, her voice filled with nervousness. "oh, hey yn, what is it?"

"i've been carrying these feelings for you for a long time, and i can't keep them to myself any longer. i... i like you, sana."

sana's eyes widened slightly, her brows furrowing as she processed yn's words. she let out a soft chuckle, assuming it was another lighthearted moment between friends. "oh, yn, you're always so sweet. i really like you too! you're an amazing friend."

yn's heart sank, the weight of sana's continuous obliviousness hitting her hard. she tried to hide her disappointment, forcing a smile to mask her true feelings. "haha... yeah. anyway, i've got to go, see you sana."

with mixed emotions, yn turned and walked away, her heart aching from the unrequited feelings. yn was exhausted, tired of pouring her heart out and yet again receiving nothing in return. so she had made a difficult decision to finally move on from sana, which is by — distancing herself from sana. and so the process of moving on started.

in the days that followed, yn focused on avoiding minatozaki sana at all cost. from ignoring sana's hellos to avoiding eyes contact with sana.

as yn walked through the bustling hallways, her eyes caught a glimpse of sana chatting and laughing with their mutual friends — myoui mina and hirai momo. the ache in her chest grew stronger. she missed the warmth of sana's presence, the way her smile could brighten even the darkest of days. but yn remind herself that she couldn't continue living in a cycle of heartache anymore.

days turned into weeks, and yn's absence did not go unnoticed by sana. her heart felt heavy and her mind felt confused with yn's sudden distance.

"did i do something wrong?" sana huffed. "quit complaining and just confront her about it sana" mina said. "yeah, you should do that instead of whining about it to us every damn time." momo complained.

the trio are currently in mina's apartment — having a study session that quickly turned into sana pouring her life problem session.

"you don't get it, its just so sudden you know? did she find out about my feelings towards her?. is that why she started avoiding me? she won't even look at me anymore. guys please help me." sana continued rambling. "like i said sana, confront her about it. you won't know what happens to her if you keep complaining and do nothing about it." mina said frustrated with sana's whining.

"fine ugh, i guess i will." sana rolled her eyes as her mind kept wandering about yn.

the next day, sana mustered her courage to confront yn. she found the latter sitting alone in the campus library, her gaze fixed on a book but her mind clearly elsewhere.

"sana?" yn looked up, surprise evident in her eyes.

sana took a deep breath, her voice laced with vulnerability. "yn, why do you keep avoiding me? did i do something wrong to you? please tell me if i did something wrong to you. i miss you yn."

yn couldn't ignore the longing in sana's voice, but her heart was guarded. "sana, you did nothing wrong. i've been busy with assignments and projects, that's all. "

sana's brows furrowed, her eyes searching yn's face for any signs of deception. "yn, i know you well enough to sense when something is bothering you. it feels like there's a wall between us, and i don't know why so please, be honest with me."

yn's gaze faltered, her heart feeling heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. she took a deep breath, gathering her courage to share her true feelings.

"sana, i can't bear this distance between us any longer," yn confessed, her voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination. "the truth is, i have feelings for you. more than just friendship. every time we're apart, i feel a void in my heart, and i miss you more than words can express."

"and i've been avoiding you because i thought we couldn't be more than friend, with your constant rejection, moving on is the only thing i could do."

sana's eyes widened in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. she hadn't expected yn to have the same feelings. a sense of relief filled her chest.

"y-yn, i didn't know... i didn't think you'd felt the same way," sana stammered, her voice filled with a mix of astonishment and joy. " and i'm so sorry, i've been rejecting you because i never thought you would like me back, its just too good to be true."

sana took a step closer, her eyes shining with sincerity. "yn if you're willing, please let me take you out on a date."

yn's guarded heart melted, her voice filled with a newfound happiness. "sana, i'd be crazy if i said I don't want to."

a smile spread across sana's face, her hand reaching out to gently touch yn's cheek. "i'm glad we're on the same page, yn. i promise i will take you on the best ever date you've ever had in your life."

and so, in the quiet corners of the college library, yn and sana embarked on a new chapter of their relationship. and in each other's presence, yn and sana found solace, blissfully content in the knowledge that their unspoken longing had finally found its voice — a love that would flourish and endure for a lifetime.

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agiiiiiiiiiiiii · 26 days ago

Text

Belated Birthday

It was my birthday yesterday so a little something on that topic!

nico hischier x reader

Theme: fluff, smut

Words: 1683

—————————————————————————

Your birthday this year wasn’t quite what you’d hoped for. With you back home abroad and Nico tied up with his demanding schedule, your timezones and commitments just didn’t align, leaving you to spend your birthday without him. It was also the first birthday you were celebrating while dating him. It made his absence feel even more pronounced, leaving a void you hadn’t expected to feel. Despite your best efforts to stay positive, the day felt emptier without him by your side. But Nico, being Nico, wasn’t about to let the distance stop him from making you feel loved.

The morning of your birthday, your phone lit up with a FaceTime call. His familiar face filled the screen, and the sight of his soft smile and messy hair instantly brightened your mood.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he greeted warmly, his Swiss accent wrapping around the words like a hug. “I hate that I can’t be there today, but I wanted to be the first voice you hear.”

You smiled, trying to keep the sting of tears from your eyes. “You already made my day better, handsome.”

“Good,” he said, leaning closer to the camera. “But I’m not done. There’s something on its way to you. Check your door in a bit, okay?”

You tried to press him for details, but he only chuckled and told you to be patient. About an hour later, there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, your breath caught in your throat.

In front of you stood a delivery person holding the most stunning bouquet of flowers you’d ever seen. It was massive, overflowing with your favorite blooms in vibrant colors. You couldn’t even hold back the smile as you brought them inside and noticed the handwritten note tucked within:

"Until I can hold you again, let these remind you how loved you are. Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much, Nico."

You pressed the note to your chest, rereading it over and over. The flowers sat proudly on your kitchen table, a constant reminder of the man who loved you so deeply, even from miles away.

————————————

The next day, your flight back to Jersey landed in the early evening. Tired but excited to see him again, you walked through the terminal, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. And there he was, leaning casually against a pillar, wearing his favorite coat and that soft smile that always made your heart skip.

The moment his eyes met yours, his face lit up, and he pushed off the wall, striding toward you. Before you could say anything, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as his lips found yours in a long, tender kiss.

“Happy belated birthday,” he murmured against your lips, his hands resting on your waist.

“You didn’t have to come to the airport,” you said softly, though your heart swelled with gratitude.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” he admitted, his lips brushing your temple. “I needed to see you.”

The ride home was filled with stolen kisses, his hand firmly holding yours as he asked about your trip. When you finally stepped into the apartment, you stopped in your tracks. The living room was decorated with candles and fairy lights, and on the coffee table sat a stack of beautifully wrapped presents.

“Nico…” you started, turning to him with wide eyes.

He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, I know, but I wanted to make up for missing your actual birthday. Don’t even think about saying it’s too much,” he added, reading your thoughts.

One by one, you unwrapped the gifts. Each one was thoughtful and perfect—a bracelet that matched the necklace he gave you for Christmas, a cozy sweater in your favorite color, and tickets to a show you’d been talking about for months.

“You’re the best,” you said, shaking your head as tears pricked your eyes. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

He pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I wanted to,” he said simply. “You make me happy every day, Y/N. This is nothing compared to what you give me.”

After Nico let you open all of your presents from him and you’re both starting to unwind, his phone rings. He glances at the screen and smiles, putting it on speaker. “It’s my parents,” he says, settling next to you.

As soon as the call connects, his mom’s cheerful voice fills the room. “Y/N, happy birthday again! We’re so happy you’re back with Nico to celebrate properly together!”

You smile warmly. “Thank you so much! That means a lot.”

Nico raises an eyebrow, looking puzzled. “Wait…you guys did called her yesterday right? I forgot to remind you.”

His mom chuckles. “Of course we did, but now that she’s with you, we wanted to say it again.”

He lets out a relieved exhale, dramatically clutching his chest. “Okay, phew. I was about to say…”

His parents chuckle on the other end, clearly amused by Nico’s overreaction. After some more lighthearted conversation, the call ends, leaving Nico shaking his head and grinning at you. “You’ve got them wrapped around your finger, you know that?”

You just smile, leaning into him. “I wonder where I got that from.”

————————————

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, kisses, and stolen glances. Later, as you lay tangled together in bed, Nico traced lazy patterns on your bare back with his fingers. Your body warm from the intimacy of the evening, he brushed a hand through your hair and smiled down at you.

“Best belated birthday ever?” he asked softly, his voice a little teasing but full of affection.

“Absolutely,” you murmured, tracing circles on his chest. “You always make everything perfect.”

But instead of relaxing into the moment, his grin turned mischievous, and he shifted slightly beneath you. “I’m not done yet.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Nico rolled you onto your back with practiced ease. His lips trailed down your neck, his hands firmly gripping your waist. You let out a surprised laugh, but the playful edge quickly melted into something deeper as his lips moved lower, leaving a trail of kisses over your collarbone, down your stomach, and finally settling between your thighs.

“Nico,” you breathed, your voice half a warning, half anticipation, but he silenced you with a glance—his dark eyes brimming with intent.

“Just relax,” he whispered, his voice low and thick. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

And then, without hesitation, his mouth was on you, his tongue and lips moving with a precision that left you gasping. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, deliberate, and all-consuming. Every movement seemed calculated to bring you closer to the edge, his hands anchoring your hips as he worked his magic.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and a shaky moan escaped your lips as your back arched. He hummed against you, clearly satisfied by your reaction, and the vibrations sent shivers coursing through your body.

The room faded away until it was just him, his mouth, and the building pressure in your core. He didn’t stop, didn’t falter, and when you finally shattered, it was with a cry so raw and beautiful you barely recognized it as your own.

As your body trembled and your breathing came in uneven gasps, Nico kissed his way back up your body, his lips soft and warm against your skin. He settled beside you, his grin smug but undeniably affectionate as he pulled you into his arms.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice full of satisfaction.

You laughed breathlessly, still recovering from the intensity of the moment. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I aim to please,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You snuggled closer to him, feeling completely and utterly adored, your body still humming from the aftermath. If this was how Nico celebrated birthdays, you couldn’t already wait for the next one.

————————————

You wake up the next morning, both of you still completely naked, and find Nico lying next to you, his gaze soft and filled with warmth. He leans over slightly, gently tracing his fingers along your arm, his eyes examining you with a look of pure affection. His smile is tender, and he murmurs how much he’s missed waking up to you—how being this close, skin to skin, feels like coming home.

"You’re even more beautiful than before," he says softly, his voice a mixture of admiration and love. You chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes. “Aging like fine wine, huh?” you tease, giving him a playful nudge. His grin widens, completely agreeing without hesitation. “Exactly. Absolutely perfect,” he teases back, making you both laugh, but deep down, you can feel his genuine sincerity in every word.

You stay like that for a moment longer, wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the closeness after being apart. Nico leans in, his lips brushing gently against yours, a soft, lingering kiss that says everything his words can’t. You feel the weight of his longing, his gratitude for having you back.

As his hand slides down to rest on your waist, his thumb tracing soothing circles, he murmurs, “I really missed this... missed you.” His voice is low, intimate—like he’s trying to hold onto this moment for as long as possible.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back, a wave of comfort washing over you. After everything—missing each other, being apart—this feels right. This really feels like home.

His eyes soften, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with a deeper warmth. He tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead, your cheek, before settling back to look at you. “I’m never letting you go again,” he says, his voice quiet but filled with certainty.

You can’t help but smile at his earnestness, feeling a mixture of love and contentment settle deep inside you. “Good,” you reply, letting yourself sink into the moment, feeling secure in his presence once more.

Because with him, everything feels like it’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.

#nhl imagine #nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #hockey imagine #nh13

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