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yuta-nation · 6 months

Text

Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)

summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.

content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.

You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity.

Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities.

“I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.

You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping.

And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.

The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ.

Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything.

“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.

“Oh, Yu, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”

“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”

“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”

“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”

“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.

“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke.

“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys.

“Wait. Do you need a condom?”

“W-what?”

“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”

“No!”

“What do you mean no? You can’t–”

“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.

“Condom.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.

“Love you too.”

You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.

“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you.

“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”

“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”

“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling.

“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’”

“What does that mean?”

“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.

“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again.

“Now, what do you mean by that?”

“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”

“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand.

“Yuta…”

“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating.

“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him.

“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”

“Not good?”

“I’ve never…y’know.”

“Never what?”

“I’ve never finished, okay?”

“You’ve never cum before?”

“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”

“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.

“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.”

Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair.

After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.

“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”

“Who said that?”

“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother.

“I can help you.”

“How?”

“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him.

“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”

“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”

“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”

“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”

“...Just once?”

“Yeah, only tonight.”

“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord.

Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now. You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.

Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby. You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.

“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows.

Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt.

“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.

“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation.

“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.

“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.

“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.

He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you.

“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”

“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”

“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else.

“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high.

“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin.

“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.

“See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”

“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need.

You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.

“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist.

“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”

“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water.

“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own.

“Where’s that condom you were talking about?”

“Purse.”

“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.

“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.

“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening.

Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you.

He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.

“You can move Yuu, want you to.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust.

“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”

“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”

“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips.

“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.

“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”

“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two.

He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.

“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.

“...No. Not even a little bit.”

“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”

“What if I want to?”

“Huh?”

“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.

“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”

“Done. You’re the only man I need.”

#🩵: writing #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #🩵: yuta

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charlesslut16 · 10 months

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Hi love!!

Could you maybe write something for Max like, he and reader had feelings for each other but couldn’t be together and they would meet up secretly to spend time together and have angry, frustrated and sad sex 🥺

Sorry if I’m being vague with this suggested plot 😫 love your write ❤️

-in secret-

summary : you and max are not allowed to be together but you both do not care...

PAIRING : max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : 18+. smut, NSFW, dom!max, sub!reader, a bit toxish, bit angst, rough sex, p in v, curse words, dirty talk, aftercare, unprotected sex (be safe!).

note : i hope you like it, love! Send in more requests!

masterlist

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Best Friends. That was what max and you had always been. Friends, since you were two years old. You met through your parents, who were friends themselves.

You spent days, weeks, months, and years together. The bond between the two of you was unbreakable. No one or nothing could ever tear you both from one another.

Except your parents. When you were 13 and max was 15, both your parents had a massive fight, which made your parents so mad that they decided to cut the friendship with max's parents.

They cut all the connections to one another. That meant that you and max had to be friends in secret to not upset or anger your parents. You had to meet up in secret to not be caught.

Lovers. Years later, the friendship between the two of you turned into more. You had started dating, when max had begun in Formula One, which made it even more difficult to meet up.

But you still tried to. When max was in the paddock in his drivers room, you snuck in and spent time with him until he needed to do media stuff or something else. It was great to spend time with your love, even if it was secret.

It was frustrating to not meet up at each other's houses, in the paddock or in a restaurant because you were too afraid that your parents would find out about your relationship.

Even now that you are 23 and 25, you were still in a secret relationship. You met up on weekends or when he was away, you flew there to support him in the shadows and met with him in the hotels in the evenings.

When you met there was talking, laughing and just having, but mostly there was sex. Sad, frustrated and angry sex. There was nothing better for your feeling than that.

Just as you were having now. You were frustrated and Max was angry because your parents told you that they found someone for you to have a relationship with.

He told you that he wanted to take his anger out on you, not that you minded one day. Max had always told you that you were destined to be with him and that would not change.

You laid naked on the hotel bed, max hovered over you and the anger clearly visible on his face. He gave you a kiss on your lips and then lined his cock up with your pussy.

Max looked at your face for consent, which you gladly gave him, and he stuck his cock into you. As max was halfway in he waited, so you could adjust to his size and then thrusted all of him into you.

You moaned his name out, and he groaned at the pleasure. He thrusted in and out of you, and you rolled your body to his rhythm to provide the most amount of pleasure.

He hissed above you, but you were too far gone to care. You had been for a while, too lost in the feeling of his hands against your hips, his cock dragging against you deliciously.

It was almost embarrassing how easily you let him have his way with you. Your body completely under his control, every gasp of his name only serving to feed his ego, encouraging him to go faster, harder, more, more, more—

“Max—!”

“That’s right, say my fucking name—”

If the squeaking of the old wooden bed he had taken you on wasn’t already a sign of what was happening in the room, the shameless moans escaping your lips would be.

“Let the entire hotel know whose cock you’re begging for.”

You did, without any thought to how loud you may be.The force of his thrusts were brutal against your backside, your body ached, and yet you couldn’t stop moving, desperately trying to meet his every thrust.

It was hopeless, but he seemed to enjoy your attempts at least, a wicked chuckle escaped him as he watched your body move on his own.

“Is this what you wanted, hm? To be used like a pleasure girl?” His body was pressed against your back now, the weight of him blanketed against you. Your breath caught in your throat, his lips whispering absolute filth into your ear.

“Your new 'boyfriend' which you will never get could never fuck you like I do. You will stay with me, like it is destined to be. I don't care what your parents, say, schatje.”

“I know, max. He could never fuck me like you could. But please stop or low don't I can't anymore.”

Max did not stop moving, how could he when you sounded absolutely debauched below him, a picture-perfect image of sin to be molded by his own hands.

He fucked you unrelenting, finding every single one of your weaknesses and taking advantage of them until you cry out that it’s too much, that you couldn’t take it, and didn't give you a moment of reprieve.

“You know? I'm not so sure about that.”

Max was taunting you, dangling your own shameful display in front of your very eyes. Even if you wanted to respond, you couldn’t, the sound of your hips meeting, echoing through the room proved answer enough.

He lets you go, only for that hand to grab your face, fingers pressed against your cheeks. He forced your tear-rimmed eyes to gaze at him from below, a contrast to the sinister look in his own.

“Can’t take it? Too much? I don’t think that’s true—” Another hard thrust had you keening, back arching, a fog of lust clouding your brain. “—I think you’re going to take everything I give and more.”

He was right, of course, and you did, graciously. Your legs threatened to give out, shaking, barely holding on, and in an act of mercy, he grabbed your weakened limbs with a strong hand. Practically a rag doll, legs wrapped around his body to bring him as close as possible.

You could see him in this position, see the way his brows crease and furrow every time you clench onto his cock, the pleased grin that lingers when you grab onto his arms, seeking purchase.

It’s filthy. Max didn't think he’s seen anything more beautiful.

It’s addicting, sadistic in ways he never thought himself capable of. He can’t get enough.

A painful dance of give and take. He gave pleasure and took your very sanity with it. He took and took until you had nothing left to give, until you were a writhing mess of slurred words and half-mumbled promises.

Max could barely understand you at this point, your mind far away, but he doesn’t need to. He could understand your body well enough. But then both of you were finished, totally drained. You were in desperate need of sleep, and max was in need of cuddles. Max stood up and took a damp towel from the bathroom and cleaned you up.

He came in bed next to you, pulled you into him and cuddled you. Your head laid on his broad chest, while he stroked your hair and ran his hands up and down your arm.

“I want to tell our parents. I mean, we are adults, they can't do anything about it. It is draining, Max.”

“I know that it is draining, but we can do this together, my love. We can tell them that we are together and can start going out for real.”

“Yes, I would love that.”

“Ik hou van jou”

I love you

#f1 #formula one #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x you

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say-al0e · 11 months

Text

Home Run

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw has been your friend for years, a constant in an ever-evolving life. You’ve always harbored a small crush on him. All it takes is one night to change everything. | Ft. “Are we on a date right now?” requested by @xlostinobsessionsx and “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view,” “You’re getting shy on me now? Really?,” and “Kiss me. Like you mean it.” requested by Anon.

Warnings: Baseball, mentions of anxiety, mentions of deployment, mention of parent death (Goose is mentioned but it’s blink and you miss it), mentions of family issues. I think that’s it but let me know if you see anything else!

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!Reader (call sign Angel)

Word Count: 9k (......sorry)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

“What are you doing Saturday?”

Bradley Bradshaw sank into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite your desk, coffee in either hand as he spared you an expectant glance. Though he shouldn’t have looked so comfortable, at home amongst the stark white of the medical office, he’d become a near permanent fixture since returning to Top Gun.

Years had passed, several of which with only sporadic contact shared, but Bradley had barreled back into your life as if it had only been a matter of days. With the aviators he wore so often hooked into the collar of his undershirt and cheeks tinted pink from the California sun, you could almost believe it - convince yourself that you were the same twenty-somethings you’d once been - as you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“Good morning, Bradley. I’m doing fine, how are you? Gee, the weather sure is nice, though I heard it might rain,” you drawled, tone decidedly unimpressed as you glanced away from your chart to fix him with the blandest look you could muster. The lack of greeting was something he found himself guilty of often - it was nothing for him to drop into a conversation without preamble, leaving you scrambling to catch up - and you had a habit of calling him on it. However, when you were met with little more than raised brows, you allowed yourself a quiet laugh. “Manners, Bradshaw. What, were you raised in a barn?”

“I was raised in Virginia,” he reminded you, shrugging as he did so. “And spent four years in a fraternity. So, do with that what you will.” It took a great deal of effort to conceal your laughter, despite your amusement being his ultimate goal, as he swallowed his own with a sip of coffee. “Anyway,” he redirected, look pointed, “Saturday. Plans?”

With a sigh, you exchanged the pen in your hand for the coffee he slid across the desk - only slightly awed he still remembered your order - and provided Bradley with your full attention. It was clear he was a man on a mission, unbothered by the limited time to waste until training, and wouldn’t leave until he had an answer. So, you settled into your chair.

“Nope. I’m free.” It was clear that he had something in mind, an adventure of some sort he deemed you worthy of joining, but weeks had passed since you last spent quality time together. It wasn’t uncommon but you wanted to tease him, make him spell it out, so you hummed thoughtfully. “Nat’s sister is in town, Bob’s back home on leave, Mickey’s binging Star Trek in chronological order - which I’ve already done -, and Jake’s, well, Jake. So, I figured I’d just go to the beach or something. Why?”

Bradley frowned, an unexpected twinge of something akin to hurt clouding his otherwise bright eyes, as he lifted his own coffee. “I’m not on that list,” he pointed out, brows furrowing as he fixed you with a look you’d been on the receiving end of far too many times. “Why?”

The reaction was a little more serious than you were expecting and it was your turn to frown. One glance at Bradley told you that his inquiry, while uttered as teasingly as he could muster so early in the morning, was genuine. A brief flash of hurt crossed his face, darkened his eyes for a split second, before he hid his frown behind a sip of coffee.

A small pang of guilt needled at your skin. Though you’d meant it to be teasing, a joke, you never thought Bradley would take it as anything else.

“I just figured you’d be with Mav again,” you explained, only a little guilty. It was accompanied by an uncertain shrug as you stirred your coffee, though you knew Bradley could tell how bad you felt. “You’ve been with him the last few weekends and I didn’t want to interrupt the bonding.” When Bradley made a face, brows furrowing as he attempted to recount exactly how much time he’d been spending with Maverick - and when you last spent time together - you laughed quietly. “I think it’s nice, Roo,” you insisted, shooting him what you hoped to be a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re getting along. And now that we’re stationed together again, we can hang out whenever. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s very thoughtful and I appreciate it,” he declared, slipping his foot under the gap in your desk to nudge yours, “but call me out when I get distant. You’re important to me.”

Though your entire body grew warm at the weight of his declaration - the sincerity with which he spoke, the earnest look in his eyes, the soft gravel of his voice - you swallowed the butterflies threatening to escape and shook your head.

Bradley Bradshaw was one of your closest friends and had been a part of your life for much of your adulthood. You’d seen him at his best - and at his worst - and knew what it meant to love him. He had a tendency to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake, unintentionally as he’d always been charismatic yet emotionally unavailable, and you’d spent the last ten years determined not to be one.

Instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the feelings you’d realized last time you were stationed together, the feelings you’d spent years questioning and rationalizing and compartmentalizing; instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the warmth, then the chill of realization that he couldn’t mean that in the way you so desperately hoped, you shook your head.

“There’s a difference between being distant and making up for lost time, Roo.”

Bradley waved a hand, dismissing the idea even as his gaze dropped to the cup in his hands for a moment. “Anyway,” he redirected, lifting his gaze once more after a moment of silence. “There’s this new place downtown. It’s a bar but it’s got an arcade, go-karts, mini-golf; all kinds of shit.” He paused, for dramatic effect, you were sure - he’d been spending too much time with Fanboy, you decided, though you managed to keep from rolling your eyes. “There’s also a batting cage.”

The foundation of your friendship with Bradley was built on a handful of shared interests and experiences. You’d both had difficult upbringings, marred by tragedy, and both went to a traditional university rather than the Naval Academy. And, in the pursuit of your degrees, both spent years as student athletes. So, if the grin threatening to lift the corners of his mouth was anything to go by, Bradley knew he had you with the mention of the batting cage.

“Yeah, I heard about it. Fritz took his girlfriend there last weekend. She said it was nice.” Even before her confirmation, you’d seen it online and placed it on a list of ‘to-visit’ spots. There was no question that Bradley would be the perfect companion to enjoy all the bar had to offer but you continued to play coy. “Apparently, they’re working with that brewery, that one with the nice taproom we went to a few months ago.”

For a brief moment, silence settled over the corner of the medical office you called yours. Bradley waited, just until you returned your gaze to his, before raising a brow at you. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” His amusement was obvious, laughter badly hidden behind his coffee cup as he awaited your confirmation, but he wasted no time giving in to you. “Do you want to go with me, check it out?”

“It’s only fair, since you’ve been avoiding me.” The unamused look Bradley shot you nearly made you break, laughter bubbling in your through - regardless of the pang of guilt you felt earlier, you knew he wouldn’t take offense - but you bit your tongue and nodded. “Yeah, alright. S’long as you don’t pout when I embarrass you at the batting cage.”

A scoff left his lips as he stood from his seat, mission accomplished and ready to finally begin his day. “We were both pitchers, Angel,” he reminded you, rolling his eyes as he gathered his coffee and waited for you to do the same. “Neither of us can bat for shit.”

“Hey, speak for yourself, Bradshaw.” You followed his lead, gathering the items necessary for you to begin your rounds, as you offered him a saccharine smile. “I was a cleanup hitter.”

The word ‘bullshit,’ disguised with a purposefully awful cough escaped Bradley’s lips. When you rolled your eyes, amused at his disbelief, he laughed. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. I swear I’ve told you this before, but look up my stats, frat boy,” you implored him, not bothering to hide your laughter as you rounded the desk and headed for the door with him close behind. “You were day drinking and I was in a batting cage. We were not the same.”

Silence settled for a moment, broken by the sounds of the medical staff beginning their morning shift, as you ambled down the hall with Bradley close by. Finally, after a beat, he hummed thoughtfully.

“Guess we’ll see on Saturday, then.” He brushed past you to hold the door, body close enough for the scent of his cologne to overpower the antiseptic and cloud your thoughts, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat as he glanced down at you. Still, you swallowed the butterflies beginning to swarm in your stomach as he proposed, “Fewest hits buys dinner?”

“I’m an expensive date, Bradshaw.” The taunt was nowhere near as strong as you intended, nowhere near as sharp, but if Bradley noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply shrugged as you both paused just shy of the exit.

“So am I, Angel.”

Then, for just a moment, Bradley studied you. Those warm brown eyes raked over your skin, rapidly heating from the weight of his attention, as that amused grin never faltered. His eyes, however, softened considerably as you blinked at him. There seemed to be something on the tip of his tongue, some witty quip that would make you laugh, but before he could speak, the door opened and a handful of nurses streamed into the hallway.

The group, who you knew well and worked with daily, all bid you both a good morning - though you could see from their not-so-discreet stares that you’d be answering questions about your relationship, or lack thereof, with Bradley later on - and the moment was broken.

Bradley spared a glance at his watch, seemed to realize the time, and reached for the door. “I’ll see you Saturday.” And with that, he stepped outside, off in the direction of the hangar, leaving you to shake your head.

Spending time with Bradley was something you’d always adored, regardless of what it meant and where you ended up - whether it was at the Hard Deck, surrounded by the group of pilots you’d been accepted into without question, or out on the beach, alone as you watched the waves roll in. Though you had a tendency to tease, to give him a hard time, you were glad to accept any invitation to make up for lost time.

And while plans made at the beginning of the week always seemed so far away, especially plans made with Bradley, Saturday seemed to roll around far quicker than you expected.

Between new students - some losing the battle against the California sun, others losing the battle against a bottle of tequila - and yearly appointments all seeming to fall within the same few day span, you barely had time to breathe, let alone think about your weekend plans. Bradley was also kept busy, pulled in one direction or another as he prepared for yet another special mission, and your paths only crossed briefly throughout the week.

Though communication was limited - only a handful of words shared in passing, along with a text or two to confirm plans hadn’t changed - Bradley still arrived at your place at six on the dot.

Bradley made it halfway up the sidewalk, ready to knock at your door and greet you with a grin - some witty quip on his lips about how nice you cleanup - before you stepped out onto the small stoop with a bright grin of your own.

“Ya know, I was kind of expecting you to be fashionably late, Roo.”

While he’d never been late for work - Bradley understood the importance of time management, valued his job and wanted to make a positive impression on his superiors - he had a habit of making a grand entrance elsewhere. Most nights, he sauntered into the Hard Deck fifteen minutes after everyone else, dressed in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans that always hugged his thighs just right. He nearly always showed up to Sunday brunch with a hangover, twenty minutes after the agreed upon time, and already nursing a hangover.

But the thing about Bradley’s habitual lateness; he’d never been late for you.

If you made plans, agreed to spend quality time together without the rest of the Daggers, he made it a point to show up. Hungover, exhausted, burnt out from a long week - it never seemed to matter. Bradley had never left you hanging and you’d long since stopped wondering when that day would come. Instead, you thanked your lucky stars that Bradley Bradshaw deemed you worthy of his time and attention and grinned at him as you approached the Bronco.

Bradley caught the teasing lilt to your voice immediately, saw the glittering amusement in your eyes, and laughed himself as he shook his head. “I figured I got lucky enough getting you to hang out with me. Didn’t want to push it by being late.”

“Very thoughtful.” In true Bradley fashion, he opened the Bronco door for you, aviators slipping down the bridge of his nose as he took in the outfit - casual, but still nicer than anything you’d wear to the Hard Deck - you wore. You ignored the warmth creeping up your chest at the weight of his gaze, swallowed it in hopes of drowning the butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, as you shook your head. “And chivalrous, too! It’s a wonder you’re so painfully single, Bradshaw.”

The roll of his eyes was playful, unbothered by the teasing jab at his relationship status - something that had become a running joke among the Daggers by this point, anyway - as he rounded the Bronco to join you. “It’s the emotional unavailability,” he defended, shrugging as he turned on the vehicle. “Or something like that.”

“At least you’re self-aware. That counts for something, I think.”

Occasionally, you wondered if the jabs at Bradley’s lack of a love life - or, rather, lack of a committed love life, lack of a steady love life, as he’d had his fair share of flings over the years, though they’d slowed to a complete stop since his return to Top Gun - ever bothered him.

Jake started it all a few months after the Daggers’ friendship became real, shortly after that first mission ended. He made some stupid joke about Bradley’s lack of commitment after he found himself committed to a pretty bartender and it was true enough. Bradley hadn’t had a steady partner in years, not one that he deemed worthy of introducing to his friends, anyway, and you all took turns playing armchair therapist to rationalize why.

Still, Bradley seemed to take it all in stride.

As he always seemed to, Bradley shook his head and laughed quietly as he pulled away from the curb. Instead of arguing, carrying on with the bit as he sometimes did, the conversation fell into a natural lull as he allowed his usual playlist - comprised of eighties throwbacks and the occasional song from his days as a frat boy - to fill the cab of the Bronco.

While it should’ve been uncomfortable, silence with Bradley never was. Even in the beginning of your friendship, back when you were both bright-eyed and overwhelmed with the seemingly endless possibilities your futures seemed to hold, Bradley was was comfortable. And even back then, when your heart seemed to skip a beat every time he smiled at you - every time you were certain your skin would remain permanently on fire, every time you were certain your giddy laughter would give you away - it was always easy.

No matter how much time seemed to pass, no matter how many miles separated you, Bradley had always been a constant. And it seemed that no matter where in the world you found yourselves, when you reunited, there was an overwhelming feeling of returning home.

When you stopped to think about it, that comfort - that feeling of home, that stability - was what kept you from risking your friendship with Bradley.

Though you’d harbored an ever-growing, seemingly never fading, crush on him since the day you met, pushing for anything more came with a risk of losing him for good. Acting on those feelings, acknowledging them outside the confines of your own thoughts, meant risking everything you’d built.

The friendship you shared survived distance, months spent oceans apart; it survived seemingly endless stretches of time with limited communication; it survived deployments, periods of discomfort, moments of doubt, and everything in between because there was no pressure.

With Bradley, there were never any expectations.

Bradley had always been comfortable because with him, you felt the freedom to just exist. He never expected you to be anything other than yourself, accepted you for the person that you were, and saw the beauty in that. He never judged you for saying the wrong thing or having a bad day, never thought less of you for needing a shoulder to lean on. He never made you feel less than.

There was never a fear of fucking it all up but you knew the moment you crossed that line, the moment you allowed yourself to give in and fall completely in love with Bradley Bradshaw, you were opening yourself up for a heartbreak you’d only had nightmares of.

Before you could spiral further, fall into a pit of despair so deep it would take the rest of the weekend to climb out of, Bradley’s voice cut through the din inside your head. That voice, rasp a balm for your suddenly aching chest, rang in your ears as he declared, “Hate to interrupt your attempt to solve all the world’s problems, but we’re here.”

A cursory glance out the window confirmed his statement and you blinked as you took in the sheer size of it all. “Fritz really undersold this place,” you said, sparing Bradley a quick glance before eying the packed parking lot. “It’s massive.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting but I don’t think it was this.”

A hum of agreement was all that seemed necessary and even that was lost to the ether as Bradley parked and shut off the engine. While you were entranced by all the bar offered, eyes wide as you scanned the patio just to the side, he was quick to round the Bronco and open the door for you. He grinned when you shot him a look, eyes sparkling with a sort of mischief as he awaited your teasing comment about chivalry, but you both remained quiet for a moment as you crossed the parking lot.

The bar itself looked like something plucked from your fondest childhood memories; a clash of past and present with an arcade facade, a mini-golf course, batting cages, and a go-kart track out back, all accompanied by a few bars scattered around, and you were struck by a sudden wave of nostalgia as gravel crunched beneath your feet.

Bradley seemed to be, too, as he gestured to the course with a grin. “I think every mini-golf place I ever went to growing up had one of those bridges.” He pointed to an awkward length bridge, covering the short distance between holes split by a trickle of water meant to represent a river, and you laughed.

“At least they’re useful.” At that moment, a small group climbed single file over the bridge - when they could’ve easily just stepped over - and you hummed. “Well, sort of. All the ones on the Gulf Coast have random alligators.” Bradley’s laughter was cut short as he raised a brow, question of whether you meant real alligators or statues - or maybe both - but you only shrugged.

Though you hadn’t been stationed together in years, you’d kept up with one another. Any time you moved, packed it all up and traded this coast for that one, you shared the details with one another. Bradley had been sent photos from Florida - pictures of alligators and Disney and stormy beaches - while you were sent photos from Virginia and, after the fact, the middle of the ocean.

The only time either of you kept your relocation a secret was his initial return to Fightertown as it came after yours and he’d wanted to surprise you.

That line of conversation and the following contemplative silence didn’t last very long as Bradley spared you a glance. “What were you thinking so hard about on the drive? Thought I saw smoke coming out of your ears.”

Bradley was often direct with you, asked questions you would sometimes prefer not to answer, but there was no chance you intended to share your line of thinking. He would get it, you knew that, but the conversation was unnecessary as you were doing just fine hiding it all. So, you shook your head and offered him your best smile. “Doesn’t matter. Just a long week.” That wasn’t technically a lie, it had been a painfully long week, but he didn’t need to know that all thoughts outside of him ceased to exist the moment you stepped out your front door to see him waiting for you. Instead, you attempted to redirect by gesturing to the batting cages. “We starting or ending there?”

There was a look in his eyes that made you fearful he would continue his line of questioning, one that said he didn’t believe you, but he seemed to think better of pushing. “I was thinking we end there,” he reasoned as he glanced over and offered you a half-smile. “Build the suspense, you know?”

“Or get enough drinks in that neither of us will be up to our usual.” It was playfully accusatory, teasing in a way that felt so natural with Bradley, and you felt a small sense of triumph as he laughed.

“You were in a batting cage, I was day drinking,” he reminded you, snickering as he repeated your quip from earlier in the week. When you cut your eyes at him, his smile seemed to double in size. “A beer or two won’t have any impact at all on my batting average, Angel.”

“I’d like to say that I’m surprised,” you sighed as you stepped through the front door, “but I don’t think I am.”

Bradley rolled his eyes fondly as he followed you inside, close behind to keep from being separated. “C’mon,” he urged, “first round’s on me.”

Knowing Bradley, every round would be on him. He’d insisted since being reunited, declared he was making up for lost time when he dragged you out on nights he knew you’d rather be in bed, but you knew better. Bradley was better with actions than with words - small gestures, such as buying a round or completing an annoying to-do list task - and used them to show that he cared.

This was a conversation you’d had a dozen times before, a fight he never let you win, so you made no effort to argue as you headed for the bar.

The entire building was impressive, decorated to match the overall theme of childhood nostalgia with neon signs and patterned carpet. The walls were lined with old games - Pac-Man, Space Invaders, pinball machines - and it seemed that everywhere you turned, there was something new to discover.

Little conversation was shared at first as both you and Bradley were too busy marveling at the sheer size of the space. It was almost overwhelming, too many choices in one building, but soon, you were wandering through the vastness of it all in search of your next activity.

Much of the night passed in a blur of bright colors and loud noises. The games themselves were fun, easy enough when you had a drink in your hand - though you and Bradley both kept it light with only one drink each, too busy having fun to return to the bar and wait. Bradley’s presence, however, made it all the better.

Bradley kept you close as you weaved through the crowds, one hand at the center of your back - respectful, but still enough to have your breath catching in your throat with every press of his fingers as you felt the warmth of his palm through the material of your top.

While you opted against the go-karts and mini-golf, you’d already formulated a plan to return with the rest of the Daggers in tow. You and Bradley mapped it all out between games of skee ball and Crazy Taxi - you’d begin with go-karts, before the group started drinking, and end with the pair of you showing everyone up in the batting cages. It was perfect, silly and fun, and you found yourself forgetting everything that wasn’t the immense joy you were experiencing.

Hours passed in a haze of giddy laughter and jokes traded at the others’ expense before you finally made your way outside. With his hand still at the center of your back, slipping lower with every step, Bradley guided you to the batting cages with a grin.

“Alright, slugger,” he teased, eyes bright and glittering in the overhead lights as he gestured to the rack of bats. “Lady’s first. Show me how it’s done.”

With a playful shake of your head, you stepped away from Bradley and reached for a helmet and a bat. There was no doubt that he believed you - he believed nearly everything you said, whether he should have or not - but he was once a pitcher, too. It was an experience you shared, one few people you saw daily understood, and you knew this was less about you proving yourself and more about finding something you had in common and celebrating it.

The entire night was a way to spend time together doing something you both loved, something you rarely got to indulge in these days, and you were grateful he’d suggested it. Even as you stepped into the batting cage, weight of Bradley’s gaze heavy against your skin, you felt nothing but the giddy excitement you’d been experiencing since stepping foot into the bar.

Had it been anyone else, you might’ve felt nervous. The teasing, the playful jeering as you took a few practice swings, might’ve made you afraid of looking stupid. But this was Bradley. While he could be competitive, it was always playful - with you, anyway. This was fun and you knew he would cheer you on regardless, so you nodded when he asked if you were ready to start.

When the first ball came flying toward you, speed at the max setting, you inhaled deeply before taking a swing. The ball whistled as it soared high, a resounding ‘ping’ echoed through the cages and earned a few glances from passersby, and you felt a sort of relief as it flew into the net before bouncing back toward the return.

Laughter, amused and a little awed, rang out behind you as you caught Bradley shake his head from the corner of your eye. “You weren’t joking.”

“You almost sound surprised, Bradshaw,” you teased, though he didn’t - not in the slightest. “This one’s going to the left, top corner,” you informed him as you shifted your hips and waited for the next ball.

As it flew high and left with another sharp ‘ping,’ Bradley leaned against the barrier and folded his arms over his chest. “Where are we goin’ for dinner?” The question was asked with a smile, bright and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Your choice since I’m clearly going to be paying for it.”

“It’s not over ’til it’s over.” Even as you spoke, words interrupted by a huff of effort as you took a swing, Bradley seemed unconvinced. And, if he’d been as honest as you, he had every reason to be. With a laugh, you offered, “I was thinking about that place by the beach, the one with the cool patio.”

“Sure.” Bradley would’ve allowed you to choose regardless - and wouldn’t have let you pay for him, even if you proved to be an awful batter - because that was the kind of friend he’d always been. The restaurant on the beach was a shared favorite, however, a staple that you visited at least once a month, and you knew you would’ve likely ended up there, anyway. So, you felt little remorse about your choice, even as he continued. “You’re only two balls in but you win,” he relented, laughing as he lifted his soda to take a sip. “Where’s this one headed?”

“Straight up the middle.”

Between pitches, you spared him a glance over your shoulder. You expected him to look bemused, pretending to be put out by your ability, but there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was fond, brighter than you expected, and you almost convinced yourself it was pride that had his shoulders set a little straighter as a passing pair praised your ability.

Even the brief notion that Bradley was proud of you, impressed by your ability in a way few others had been, was enough to warm you from within. Heat flooded your veins, much as it did every time he spared you a wayward compliment, and it took a conscious effort to keep yourself from preening under his scrutiny.

“Why am I not surprised you’re a place hitter?” His question was punctuated with another resounding ‘ping,’ followed by a ball flying into the net, as he shook his head once more. “Starting to think you were grown in a lab, Angel.”

It was clearly teasing, a soft jab accompanied by laughter, but you couldn’t help the bashful shrug as you readied yourself for another ball. His jokes about your perfection had become more frequent, accompanied by soft laughter, and though you knew he’d witnessed your flaws, it still made your skin prickle any time Bradley saw the good in you.

Still, you swallowed the warmth and tightened your grip on the bat. “Told you, batting cages while you were day drinking.” There was a brief pause as you took another swing, this hit a line drive to the left, before you admitted, “Softball and nursing school didn’t leave much time for fun or friends so, batting cage it was.”

“We would’ve been friends,” he declared, certain in a way you wished you could be - though you were grateful to have met him later in life. You knew yourself well enough to know that you likely wouldn’t have been able to handle the schoolgirl crush you’d formed almost immediately after meeting him, not then. But Bradley didn’t give you much time to dwell as he hummed, “We could’ve been day drinking and hitting the batting cages together.”

“I don’t know if I would’ve befriended frat boy Bradley.” Though you offered him a teasing grin, laughed when he rolled his eyes, you knew that you would have. You were half-certain that you would’ve found Bradley in any life and fallen just as hard, no matter the circumstances of your meeting. But you kept that realization to yourself as you teased, “His idea of fun sounds like it could end in an ER visit.”

“Would’ve given a student nurse some real life experience,” he reasoned, smile growing into something brilliant when you laughed. “But at least you admit it sounds like fun.” Bradley tipped his head then, brows furrowing as he watched you take another swing. “Why’d you play, though? Nursing always sounded hard enough without being an athlete, too.”

Over the years, you’d had more conversations with Bradley than you could count. There were very few topics that hadn’t come up as you shared nearly everything - your career, your friends, your hobbies, your interests, your hometowns - but family was one of them. And, in a long line of similarities, your reason for playing softball and his reason for playing baseball was rooted in family.

Bradley once mentioned that baseball was originally deigned something to do, a task that got him out of the house and incorporated him into the community when he and his mother moved to Virginia after Goose’s death. He once shared that it was something his father loved as a child, an alternate life path he could’ve taken, and indulging in it made him feel a little closer to the father he missed. He admitted that it made him feel weightless - long before he experienced true weightlessness in the cockpit of a jet - but he’d never asked you why.

It was just one of those things that went unspoken until it didn’t.

“Family,” you revealed, not bothering to turn even as he made a noise of understanding. “My grandmother played. She got married and had kids really young. Sports weren’t really a thing for women in her time, anyway, but there was a rec league in town. She was amazing; a switch hitter, place hitter, a damn good pitcher. If she’d been born a little later, she could’ve made a life for herself playing. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t. My mom tried to take after her but she never really got the hang of it. I was the only one who did, so, I guess I figured I had to be the one to live the dream for them.”

The weight of your rationale was not lost on Bradley, you knew that, but he was never one to push for more. That was enough, enough vulnerability for a batting cage in the middle of a crowd, so he shifted. “Do you still play?”

Once upon a time, after a handful of drinks and a few stories about the Naval Academy from the Daggers, Bradley shared the things he missed about college. Baseball was one of them as he hadn’t played since graduation. He’d been asked, a handful of times, to join in on the odd pickup game here or there but it wasn’t the same and you knew that. There was little a pickup game could do to recapture the feeling you’d experienced on a field with teammates but Bradley seemed to realize that you’d at least swung a bat since graduating.

“Sometimes,” you confirmed, finally sparing him a sideways glance. Those brown eyes followed your every move, every shift of your hips or flex of your foot, and you felt your skin prickle under his scrutiny. You shrugged, returning your gaze to the machine, and took a deep breath. “I join local leagues when I can, if I hear about them. It was easier when I was working at a hospital with civilian nurses but most of the time, they don’t really want me joining in. I can never promise I’ll be around for a whole season or that I can make it to everything. I get it, though. They want someone who’s going to be there.”

When the machine finally shut off, you turned to face Bradley. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t read - something contemplative, softer than you expected - as he declared, “Their loss. They’d be lucky to have you, Angel.”

Bradley’s sincerity was obvious, almost achingly so, and you felt your heart clench at his declaration. It meant more than you knew it should but before you could dwell, consider exactly how it made you feel, Bradley headed for the controls.

“Wait,” you called out, before he could press the ‘start’ button. “Don’t you want to bat? I feel like I’ve been in here forever.”

“Don’t mind me.” He smiled, this one real and bright, as he gestured to you. You stood, still inside the cage with a bat clutched in one hand, and lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

A storm of butterflies filled the pit of your stomach. Your skin heated, your heart thumped just a bit too hard in your chest, and you had to tip your head to hide your face as you shook your head. There was a slight edge to his voice, a deeper rasp that you’d only heard used at the Hard Deck - locked in conversation with pretty girls you watched him take home instead of you - and you were almost convinced you imagined it. However, before you could question it, Bradley laughed.

“Oh, you’re getting shy on me now? Really?” As desperately as you wanted to make some sort of witty quip, return his teasing with some of your own and hope that your voice didn’t shake, you could only attempt to swallow the warmth creeping up your chest as he pressed the button. “I’m having plenty of fun watching you, Angel. Keep going!”

There was a warmth to Bradley’s comment that seeped into your bones, warmed you from within. Bradley complimented you frequently, sought to make you - and other friends, including Natasha - feel proud, but this was different. There was a weight to everything he’d said throughout the course of the night you’d never felt before.

The weight of his statement, the softness with which he spoke, had your voice catching in your throat as you waited for the machine to start. Your heart continued to thunder in your chest, cheeks heating, but you attempted to disregard the feeling of Bradley’s gaze burning into your skin.

When you finally found your voice, heart still beating just a touch too fast even after the first hit, you shook your head. “One more round,” you relented, “and then you’re up, Bradshaw.”

If Bradley heard the waver in your voice, if he noticed the slight heave of your chest as you fought to even your breathing, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he nodded easily. “Of course. We have to end the night with a laugh,” he reasoned, poking fun at his own abilities. “You gonna be my relief hitter when I strike out?”

“It’s a batting cage, Roo.” It was meant to make you laugh, meant to ease the tension you knew he could see in your shoulders, but it worked as you leaned into a swing. “There are no strikeouts.”

Before he could counter, make some joke that would keep you laughing and fully ease you back into the moment, a passerby - who’d definitely had more than your one drink - yelled, “Damn, man. Your girl’s killing it!”

“Yeah, she is.”

Three words, a simple acknowledgement of a drunken compliment, and you nearly missed the next pitch that flew toward you. It likely meant nothing to him - he likely hadn’t even noticed the man call you his girl - but if you weren’t careful, you knew this moment would play on a loop in the back of your mind.

It was intoxicating, the idea that someone else saw you as Bradley’s girl, but you made a herculean effort to stay focused on the task at hand as you took swing after swing. A handful of passersby continued to cheer, drunken words of encouragement rang out with every ball you sent soaring, but Bradley kept quiet as you flew through the remaining pitches on the machine.

There were no witty quips, no jokes, and you were grateful for the relative silence as you allowed the repetitive motion to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Finally, when the machine reached zero and you’d reached a state of semi-normalcy, you turned to watch as he grabbed his own helmet and bat.

Bradley approached with a smile, though it was softer than it had been all night - gentle, almost timid in a way you’d never seen him - and brushed your shoulder with his own as you passed in the entryway. Though it was far from the first time he’d touched you, a jolt of electricity flew through your body at the contact and you struggled to inhale deeply as you offered him what you hoped to be a teasing grin.

“Alright, frat boy,” you hummed, voice quieter than you intended but still playful enough, “show me what you’ve got.”

The quip made Bradley laugh, even as he shook his head at the nickname. “Prepare to be woefully underwhelmed, Angel,” he teased, offering you a grin as he settled into his stance.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

With a nod from Bradley, you pressed the ‘start’ button and watched as the first pitch flew toward him. And, with that very first swing, you knew he’d been telling the truth.

Bradley’s first attempt ended in a foul ball, right off the tip of the bat, and the second fell just a little too close to his hands. His third was a complete miss, though he made a decent effort, and you lifted your hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter.

There was no telling how much of this was an act - playing up his lack of ability to make you laugh, to make you feel better about your own prowess - but you couldn’t help yourself as you winced when he dropped his shoulder and missed a third ball.

“Nevermind. You really are a shitty batter, Bradshaw.”

“Funny, that’s what every coach I’ve ever had said.” When you laughed, shaking your head at his self-deprecating joke, Bradley took another swing. With another miss, he spared you a quick glance over his shoulder. “This is why I was a pitcher,” he acknowledged, glancing at a ball that rolled past his feet. “Next time, we’ll go to a field somewhere and I can redeem myself.”

“No redemption necessary. I believe you’re a good pitcher,” you promised him, laughing as he jolted away from a ball spiraling too close for his comfort. “Pitchers aren’t supposed to be able to hit.”

Bradley made yet another attempt and you nearly clapped as this one connected and flew into the top right corner. With it, Bradley laughed. “That’s the best you’re gonna get,” he declared, smiling as he spared you another glance. “Press stop for me, Angel?”

With a laugh of your own, you pressed the ‘stop’ button and waited a moment for Bradley to exit the batting cage. As he stepped out, returned his helmet and bat, you took a moment to study him.

Bradley Bradshaw was beautiful. Though you kept your feelings for him a closely guarded secret, everyone knew you found him attractive. You weren’t the only one who thought so, especially on those nights he wore the jeans that hugged his thighs just right to the Hard Deck - especially on the nights he wore his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, collar of his undershirt weighed down by aviators and exposing a sliver of sun kissed skin - but you were always struck by just how pretty he was up close.

Though you’d never been much of a fan of the mustache - a commonality on every base you’d ever been stationed at, especially among pilots - it worked for Bradley. It suited him and you were glad he hadn’t been talked out of it yet.

Even on the toughest of days, Bradley always offered you a smile. He made it a point to be honest with you, to tell you when he felt rough or when he’d seen better days, but he always left having shared at least one smile. It was always encouraging, always there when you needed it, and you were grateful that Bradley deemed you worthy of his smile.

And those eyes - warm and beautiful, always so expressive whenever he regarded you - never failed to make you weak in the knees. With every gaze you shared, with every glance exchanged, you found yourself falling deeper into a hole you knew you would never be able to climb free from.

However, as Bradley turned to you, you felt the air escape your lungs as you began to realize that you were alright with never being able to climb free.

As afraid as you were that the comfort you found in Bradley would be lost should you allow yourself to fall completely, you realized that he would never allow that.

Bradley had been a part of your life for years, there for you through the best and worst moments of your life. No matter what happened, he’d proven to be a constant - a home for you to return to in even the most troubling of times. There was never any doubt that he would remain in your life, even if you learned what it was to love and lose Bradley Bradshaw, and you began to accept that.

In a stunning moment of realization, you came to the understanding that should you choose to give this a try, should Bradley want you in the way that you wanted him, he would do everything in his power to be there for you regardless. And should he not want you - though, as you finally gave yourself the space to consider, you wondered if the things you rationalized as friendship actually meant more to him - he would never leave you out in the cold.

Even if everything that could go wrong did go wrong, even if a relationship happened and ended in heartbreak, you were confident that Bradley Bradshaw would remain constant.

After years of stability, years of love and patience, there was little that could push him away.

“Angel?” Bradley’s voice broke through the haze, drew you out of your thoughts and back to reality as you blinked at him. He frowned, concerned, and took a half-step closer as he studied your face. “Are you okay? I lost you for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” With a smile, you gave Bradley a nod - hopefully convincing him that you were, in fact, alright - before gesturing to the mini-golf course. “I think we played everything inside but there’s always mini-golf, if you want to keep playing. But I’m good if you want to call it a night.”

“I think my pride’s taken a severe enough hit,” he teased, expression relaxing slightly as he glanced toward the parking lot. “Let’s get you home. It’s almost past your bedtime, anyway.”

Though you rolled your eyes, you shook your head fondly as Bradley fell into step beside you and began heading slowly toward the Bronco.

The question you’d wanted to ask for a long while - whether Bradley wanted the relationship you did, whether he saw you win the same light - lingered on the tip of your tongue. After years of wondering ‘what-if,’ you finally allowed yourself to ask the question aloud.

“Bradley?” Warm brown eyes met yours, soft and still slightly concerned, as he hummed his acknowledgement. “Is this…” You weighed your words for a moment, considering, before you finally settled on a question. “Are we on a date right now?”

A soft, half-smile lifted the corner of Bradley’s mouth as he reached into his pocket in search of his keys. It was almost bashful, the way he ducked his head, and you swallowed to keep yourself grounded as you waited.

“I wanted it to be,” he admitted, voice quiet as the din of the bar began to fade. “I was going to really ask, make it obvious that’s what I wanted, I just…”

Bradley’s hesitation felt familiar. His shrug, noncommittal and questioning, was the same thing you found yourself doing whenever Natasha questioned why you refused to make a move. There was a tinge of fear in the pink dusting his cheeks, in the set of his shoulders as you approached the Bronco, and you held your breath as he shook his head.

“I like being your friend. I’m happy to be your friend,” he stressed, coming to a stop at the passenger side of the Bronco. In the dim light of the parking lot, Bradley’s eyes glittered as they met yours. “I haven’t spent this long being your friend as some sort of consolation prize, worried you didn’t like me back. This isn’t settling and I don’t see our friendship as less than a relationship,” he assured you, soothing a worry you’d buried deep - one he likely sensed all along. “I just… I always knew it wasn’t the right time, we were both trying to establish ourselves. But when we were apart, I thought about you all the time. I missed you all the time, more than anyone else.”

Knowing that Bradley valued your friendship first, believed it to be important - worth as much as romantic love, not something he simply settled for in place of something he’d rather have - made your chest ache as you reached out to place a hand on his bicep.

“I missed you, too, Bradley.” When his eyes met yours, smile soft and gaze so reverential it nearly stole your breath, you couldn’t help but take a half-step closer.

Bradley remained quiet for a moment, as if considering his words, before he smiled bashfully. “I’ve always thought about this,” he admitted, hand lifting to cup your cheek. His palm seared your skin, warm and heavy and a comfort you’d wished for for years, and your breath caught in your throat as he continued.

“Why now?”

It wasn’t a question you needed an answer to, not at that moment - not under the buzz of a streetlight and in the view of drunken strangers - but it seemed important as you struggled to focus on anything other than the warmth of Bradley’s skin pressed to yours.

“Mav. He got his second chance with Penny,” Bradley reminded you, voice soft. “We never lost touch but this was another chance. I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

“Kiss me.” Bradley smiled then, clearly pleased by your request, and leaned in. He pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a chaste peck, and you nearly laughed at the feeling of his facial hair brushing your skin. His lips, slightly chapped, were warm and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck as you mumbled against his mouth, “Like you mean it, Roo.”

With a half-step, you pressed yourself impossibly closer and released the years of longing you’d suffered into the kiss. Fireworks popped behind your eyelids, blood simmered in your veins as heat engulfed your entire body, and you wondered if every kiss would be this wonderful as Bradley’s free hand fell to your waist. His fingers pressed into your hip, lips working against yours, as everything around you ceased to exist.

Despite the heat of the night, the dimness of the parking lot, you would’ve been content to remain there for the rest of the night. All that mattered was Bradley, his body pressed to yours as years of longing were swept away, but all too soon, a loud cheer broke through the blissful haze.

A group of drunken passersby cheered, whistled and encouraged you both as they wandered through the parking lot to meet an Uber, and you pulled away from Bradley with a laugh. As you tipped your head to hide your smile, mild embarrassment heating your skin, you decided that the moment still couldn’t have been better.

Bradley seemed to agree as he grinned and brushed a thumb across your cheekbone. “I can’t bat to save my life but I think tonight was a home run,” he teased, laughing as you groaned at the pun. “C’mon, let me take you home.”

“Please. Before I decide I’ve had enough of the awful jokes and leave you hanging.”

Years had passed in which you suffered through Bradley’s awful jokes with a patient smile and a disbelieving laugh. There was little you wouldn’t do for him, even less he wouldn’t do for you, but you were still left giddy by his rolling eyes. “There’s no getting rid of me now,” he promised, laughing as he started up the Bronco. “We’re in it for the long haul.”

It was a promise, one that you hoped he’d be able to keep, and you felt a surge of hope for the future.

There was no expectation for the rest of the night, no pressure as you made your way back to your place, and you were content with that. Neither of you said much on the drive, simply allowed yourselves to exist together, and for the first time, you had no worries about ‘what-if.’ Instead, there was only the thought of ‘what could be.’

A deeper conversation had to be had, you both knew that, but there would be time for that later. There was an entire future awaiting you both.

And instead of wishing it to arrive so soon, you focused solely on the moment at hand.

As Bradley walked you up the sidewalk, palm warm in your own, you made no effort to wipe the smile from your lips. The giddy feeling in your chest made you feel as if you were walking on air, excited for the possibilities that now seemed endless.

The unknown was always terrifying and there was no guarantee for the future - no guarantee for anything more than the moment at hand. But Bradley Bradshaw had always been a constant. He’d been by your side for years, steady and true and loving. He was home, a light in the dark, and he was right; with him, you’d certainly hit a home run.

___________________________________________________

Author’s Note: It has been a Shit week. I’m going to go rewatch Top Gun and lay in the dark for a while. Enjoy the friends to lovers fun.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @callsignharper, @peoniarose, @hangmanscoming, @rh3tt, @dakotakazansky

#bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun x reader #top gun maverick imagine #top gun one shot #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #v's fics

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staytinyville · 8 months

Text

Stay Alive (13)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N NOT BETA READ (I did try the best to my ability) As normally! I love all your expressions over the whole chapter. Keep them coming! I love you guys!

All of the boys, minus one, were gathered in Jin’s room as they watched over your sleeping body. Namjoon was rubbing the bridge of his nose in a frustrated manner, while Hobi was hovering over your body, purple mist flowing out of his hands.

“What do you mean you lured her into the pool?” Namjoon scolded the younger boy.

“She didn't drown!” Jimin pointed out, not enjoying the lecture.

“But she could've!” Namjoon frowned.

“Jimin!” Taehyung looked at his closest friend with a frown, his features upset.

“I said I was sorry!” Jimin pouted. “Jin saved her before she could go all the way in.”

“I still smell like chlorine.” The mentioned man walked out of his bathroom, towel on his head as he dried his locks.

“How many times do we have to tell you to be careful?” Yoongi butted in.

“I didn't know she was in the pool!” Jimin cried. “My senses in the water were still trying to come back after they had dried me.” He looked down, feeling ashamed at having been close to hurting you.

The others all sighed as they realized they were being insensitive to Jimin’s problems. They knew it wasn’t Jimin’s intention to hurt you. Had the boy had full functions in his abilities he would’ve immediately noticed you the moment the water rippled with your body.

“She's fine.” Hobi spoke softly. “Just trying to recover from the hypnosis.” He gave Jimin a soft smile, trying to cheer the boy up.

“She should be fine after you did it to her.” Yoongi unconsciously spoke up, crossing his arms.

This caught everyone’s attention as their wide eyes turned to Hoseok. Now it was his turn to have a scolding. “Hobi?!” Jin cried out.

“She allowed me to put her to sleep!” Hobi tried to better the situation.

“Yeah but she didn't tell you to probe into her head.” Hobi glared intensely at Yoongi who kept opening his mouth.

“So it was you who put that spell on her!” Jin cried out, eyes wide with a hint of sadness.

Another member they all turned to wide eyed. There was just so much to keep up with at the moment. Taehyung almost said something about how today was just filled with so many issues. But he knew it wasn’t the right time to make a comment.

“What spell?” Hobi’s shoulders drop, his voice lowering at Jin’s accusation.

“Hey, he did go through her memories but he didn't put any spell on her.” Yoongi immediately went to protect Hobi. “I was there.”

“She has a spell symbol on her back.” Jimin spoke up.

“In between her shoulder blades. I felt it when I was taking her out of the water.” Jin sighed, taking a seat on his bed where you laid. He left room between you two, not wanting to touch you for fear of something happening.

They all turned back to you, frowning as their minds began to turn from trying to come up with a plausible answer. Hoseok frowned deeply as he moved a hand up to his mouth. He sighed, scooting closer to you.

“Jin hold her up.” He told the older boy. Jin frowned but moved at Hoseok’s orders. He scooted over to where your head laid. He moved you carefully into his lap, holding you up as he did back at the pool.

Hoseok went to move the dried shirt Jin had changed you to. He didn’t want you to get sick and he didn’t want the other nurses to know Jimin had lured you into the pool. It would only call for punishment for the younger boy. So he decided to change you into some of his clothing for the time being. At least until your scrubs dried.

As Hobi’s hands pulled at the bottom of your shirt, his fingers followed along your spine, reaching in between your shoulder blades. Just as his fingers grazed your cervical spine, something shocked him to the point where it left his hand numb for a bit.

“Ah!” Hoseok sucked in a breath, pulling back quickly. He wiggles his fingers to get feeling back in them, eyebrows furrowed as he looked between his hand and your back.

“There's something there.” He rubbed at his cheek. “Yoongi lift her shirt.”

Yoongi only gave him an appalled look. “Now you want me to invade her personal space?” The boy scoffed.

“Yoongi.” Hobi tried to calm down his annoyance at the boy, knowing that he was being a nuisance at the moment. However he also knew it was how Yoongi worked. He wasn’t one to keep his mouth from telling the truth.

“If she is involved with our world, things change completely.” Hobi told him pointedly.

“I'll do it.” Namjoon called, moving to where Hobi had settled behind you.

He tried to keep his fingers just warm enough to not make you feel the cold but not enough to cause a burn. He was soft in the way he touched your skin, trying not to think about how soft it actually was. He stiffly pulled the shirt back up, moving to stretch it just over your shoulders blades.

Jin pulled you closer to his body, worried the shirt would come up and expose you. He might have been the one to change you but he was a gentleman–he didn’t dare to take a look anywhere else that wasn’t the fabric of his clothing.

Hobi walked closer inspecting the symbol that blended in with your skin. “It's Bang Nim's spell.” Hoseok got back up, his back straight.

“How does she know Bang Nim?” Taehyung frowned, lips pulling between his teeth.

“She knows where Yuri lake is.” Hobi expressed to them. “She's been. He must have been the one to seal off that memory from her.” He turned around whispering to himself the last part.

“So she knows about us?” Jimin asked.

Hobi thought back to the memory he had gone through. He also went through the rest of them and nothing ever turned up about you believing in the creatures they were. He came across pictures and books depicting all kinds of mythical creatures but those were memories having to do with college or just curiosity about books. None of them really gave him the feeling that you actually believed in their kind.

“I don't think so. Our world was wiped from her memory.” Hobi spoke up, thinking back to the pain he felt when you touched the lake. As well, whoever that girl was was also wiped from your memory, so there was a possibility that she might have been involved. But yet, you didn’t seem to remember her.

Jin suddenly sucked in a breath causing everyone to turn to him. The others suddenly froze as they watched you stretch just the smallest bit as you started to wake up.

Your eyes flutter open slowly, the sleepiness in your body making you curl up into Seokjin’s hold. “Jin?” You whispered, blinking up at him.

“Hello, my dear.” Jin softly spoke, his fingers squeezing your arms in a soothing manner. “You okay?”

Your eyebrows pinched together as you took in his question. “Yeah?” You nodded your head against his chest. You looked around slowly, taking note of the other boys in the room. Your lips wanted to turn downwards when you realized the only one missing was Jungkook.

As you moved to get off Jin, you realized you weren’t dressed in your work scrubs. You frowned, pulling at the fabric on your torso.

“Who changed me? Why did they change me?” You asked, looking up at everyone.

“You fell into the pool.” Jin spoke up, eyes glancing in a squinting manner at his friend. “Thank gods I was there before you went all the way down.”

“That's odd.” Your confusion only seemed to deepen as you had no recollection of falling. Even if you did, you were a good enough swimmer so why were you passed out? Had you hit your head on the way down? Or swallowed water from shock?

Your fingers rubbed at the shirt, pulling it up as you seemed to snuggle into it. “Are these your clothes?” You asked, turning to Jin.

“Yeah.” The man began to blush. “Sorry, I didn't want to tell the other nurses.” He looked away from you, hands playing with his fingers.

“No worries-” You stopped in your sentence when you noticed something about Jin you hadn’t before.

Your head tilted to the side, wondering how it was that you hadn’t caught something like that before. But then again, his fluffy hair seemed to always be covering up his ears so seeing it all flat while wet must have allowed them to be out in the open. You held back your dreamy look as you noticed how cute Seokjin’s pointed ears were.

“You okay?” Jin asked, turning to you. You had stopped talking mid sentence and never went back to finishing.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I didn't know you had your ears pointed. You look like an elf.” You giggled. “You look ethereal with them.”

Jin’s blush only came back full force. The others tried to stifle their laughter at the flustered male. “Thank you, my dear.” Jin smiled. He glanced at Namjoon who gave him a worried look. “I had them done.”

You hum in contemplation, remembering how Namjoon had said they had all been in the facility for the past 10 years. Does that mean that Hanseol offers things to them? You were reminded of Jungkook and Jimin’s tattoos. They too must have asked for those kinds of things.

“You guys get a lot of things down here. Didn't you say it's been 10 years?” You pondered.

"There were times we got to go out of course.” Namjoon answered. “Ya know, when we were healthy.” He sighed deeply.

“We come back after relapses.” Yoongi finished.

“I see.” You nodded to yourself. The thought of them smiling all the time and living the life they wanted started to pop up in your head.

You could imagine Taehyung playing with children and showing them his tricks. Jungkook would be known as a muscle bunny who loved boxing. Namjoon would travel the world to find the greatest art and read so many books. You could imagine Jimin as an idol. Yoongi would probably find a way to work from home. Jin would be an amazing caretaker. And Hobi would have his own herbal shop.

It brought a smile to your face to think about what their lives outside this sad place was like. Maybe they would have their families behind them, supporting them like you did. At that thought you suddenly perked up.

“Do you guys have families then?” You asked.

“We do.” Namjoon spoke quickly.

“I'd love to meet them one day!” You exclaimed, startling some of the boys.

They all gave you sad smiles as they thought about your response. “One step at a time.” Hobi told you, patting your head.

“Are you okay, Beautiful?” Jimin spoke up, shuffling closer to you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You smiled at him in confusion, tilting your head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You took a tumble into the pool and don’t remember. We were just worried.” Jimin sighed, feeling guilty knowing he was the reason you took that tumble.

“I promise I’m fine.” You beamed at him, noticing how he suddenly looked down. You waited until he looked at you to get out of the bed. Once the boy glanced at you, your eyes only closed from how large your smile was. It made his heart skip a beat.

“Now if you’ll excuse me.” You moved to take the covers off you. “I’m going to go check on Jungkook. I hope he’s doing okay.”

They watched you skip out the room, quickly rushing to the youngest boy’s room across the hall. There was a sudden somber feeling in the room as they took in the way you seemed to be completely in the dark about the mark placed on your skin.

“Should we tell her?” Hoseok asked the leader.

“When the time is right.”

Series Masterlist

@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee , @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @stvrfir3 ,

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lisbeth-kk · 12 days

Text

May Prompts (13) Laugh

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 13)

Summary: Rosie gets a surprising gift from her parents. Later, she surprises her Papa by proposing an interesting experiment.

Thirteen Years Old

I’d wanted one for a long time, but for some reason I’d given up hope, so you can imagine my surprise, when I opened the box Papa handed me.

“But it’s not my birthday yet,” I protested more out of courtesy than actual refusal.

“You need it now, and your birthday is months away. Think of it as a gift in advance if you must,” Papa said impatiently.

That should’ve given it away, but I was so taken aback, and my brain cells probably weren’t at their brightest. The box was heavy and by the look in Papa’s eyes, it was clear that this wasn’t just a tiny thing, but something grand and important.

“Open it before Papa combusts,” Dad suggested with amusement.

Papa huffed and urged me to unwrap the damn box.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Dad asked when I’d peered into the now open box.

I had become mute, and apparently also adopted Papa’s way of reacting when something unexpected and sentimental was bestowed upon him - rapid blinking.

“Fine,” I whispered and finally looked up at my expectant and slightly worried parents.

I placed the box with utmost care on the table and fell into Dad’s waiting arms.

“You liked it then?” he inquired.

“Of course!” I exclaimed. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

I kissed his cheek and turned to Papa. His arms embraced me hard.

“Thank you, Papa. I should’ve realised, but I got distracted,” I murmured against his chest.

“You’re welcome, Bee. I’m glad you liked it. You’ll need it the next couple of weeks with that science project of yours, and after that…well, I’m sure we can find some use for it.”

The gift was of course my very own microscope. A professional one like Papa’s. I’d tried his numerous times but having my own meant that I didn’t have to wait for Papa to finish using his. The things I missed were a Bunsen burner, flasks, beakers, tongs and so on, but I gathered that I would be allowed to borrow what I needed under supervision. I was already equipped with safety goggles, gloves and a thick apron.

Papa had a whole lab set up down in 221C, which he used for his fouler smelling and toxic experiments. I knew I wasn’t allowed down there when one of them was ongoing, but hopefully I could persuade him to let me in if I was cunning enough.

***

In the weeks following my science project, I collected the items I wanted us to examine together. I had no idea if Papa already had studied this and made a spreadsheet like he usually did with things concerning the residents in 221 Baker Street. Truth be told, it was likely that he had, but I decided it was worth a try.

“I have a request,” I said after breakfast a rainy Saturday morning.

It would peak Papa’s interest if I used more adult language, instead of just blurting out: I want to do this and that.

“Pray tell.”

I had to try hard to keep my poker face intact when Papa’s eyes beamed at me from across the kitchen table.

“I know I’m not normally allowed downstairs, but I’ve noticed that there’s no ongoing experiments at the moment.”

I waited for Papa to respond, but he just narrowed his eyes and waved his hand, indicating that I should continue.

“Could we perform an experiment together?”

Dad cleared his throat.

“Nothing dangerous,” I hurried to assure him. “Just…come up to my room and see for yourselves.”

My courage was about to evaporate, but I straightened my shoulders and soldiered on. I added a please for good measure, and we all went upstairs.

I had placed everything on my desk. Zip bags with hair samples, threads from our clothes and fingernails, (alright, the latter was a bit disgusting, but at least it wasn’t toenails). In the petri dishes, I had collected our different shower gels, shampoos, conditioners and hair products. Sadly, Nana used hair spray, so there would be a gap in my spreadsheet.

“What do you think?” I asked expectantly. “We can compare…”

“Rosamund Watson-Holmes, you are brilliant!” Papa exclaimed, quite elated, laughing like a big child at this wonderful prospect.

“I guess, Christmas came early this year,” Dad added dryly. “Have fun, you mad scientists.”

He still shook his head fondly and I could hear him laugh quietly as Papa and I made our way down to 221C for a weekend of lab work.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

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#may prompts 2024 #may 13: laugh #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #bbc sherlock #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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m0nsterqzzz · 3 months

Text

The Gift

pairing: katniss everdeen x district 12 reader

summary: when she can't be there to protect you, you'll be damn sure she finds some other way.

a/n: this is so fucking short but I have like 7 katniss fics in the work rn that i can't figure out an end to. it's literally only 1023 wordssss ahhhhh i prefer writing long ones so its more entertaining for yall but idk. im dying. started writing a enimes to lovers clarisse fic, and a taytay one, AND my leg fucking hurts. who knew breaking a bone hurts? not me yall. sos. send help.

Walking up in district 13, dressed in a hospital gown that wouldn't stop scratching your body with the material, and your girlfriend nowhere to be seen wasn't exactly pleasant.

After a minor breakdown, it was revealed from Haymitch that Katniss is a few rooms down, also panicking since she’s not allowed to see you. It doesn't bring any comfort, listening in the silence of the night wondering how she’s doing. The last time you saw her face to face she was shooting an arrow towards the top of the force field of the arena you and her were placed in along with 22 other tributes that had won previous hunger games just like you and your girl.

So now you lie awake in your hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling as the annoying clock placed above your door clicks and clicks. If you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath while covering yourself in blankets, you can almost imagine you’re back in district twelve, laying in bed with Katniss instead of laying in this cold room with the knowledge that your district has been burned to the ground.

Your eyes fall to the clock, watching the tiny second hand slowly spin around the full circle before the minute hand moves a little bit signaling only one minute has gone by. The only reason you finally lose interest in it is because the door below it slowly creeks open, a person with long hair and a gown similar to yours stepping inside and gently closing the door behind them.

“Katniss.” You mumble, a relieved smile coming onto your face. She nods, sitting on the side of your bed next to your body.

“Hey honey.” She whispers, clearly nervous a guard rooming the hall will hear her and come in to take her back to her own room. “Are you alright? Haymitch won’t tell despite my threats.”

You manage a small chuckle, nodding as you finally close your eyes and curl into her side. “I’m fine. Are you okay? Nobody will tell me.”

She’s silent for a minute, and you feel a wet droplet drop onto your arm. A tear, though you don’t mention anything to your girlfriend. Finally, the brunette shrugs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. “I’m okay now.”

With a small kiss to the top of your head, she relaxes her head against your pillow before sitting up. “I forgot. I brought you something.” She reaches up to the back of her neck, shuffling around for a second before she holds something out to you. Even in the very dim lighting of your room, you can see the necklace. It’s one you're familiar with, for Katniss never took it off until she volunteered as a tribute for her sister Primrose about a year ago.

“My dad gave it to me when I was a kid.” The archer hushedly says, staring at it before glancing at you. You know the story, it being one of the first ones she told you when she finally opened up to you about the loss of her father, but you listen anyway. “He said it would protect me when he wasn’t there to do it. He died in the mines a few months after that.” When she learned her district she was born and raised in was now just ashes and rubble, she thought about the lost friends and that necklace. It was placed in a jewelry box before she left for her second time in the arena, and unlike the townspeople she was decent friends with, her mother was able to give it back.

You two fall into silence for a second before she continues, her voice slightly breaking before it goes back to normal. “And he was right. It has always protected me. I want it to do the same for you.” You’re about to object when she just gently shushes you. It’s her fathers, something she’s very dear almost all her life, why would you just let her give it away?

“I hold my dad in my heart. Not in the necklace. I want you to have protection when I can’t be there to do it. This is as close as we’re gonna get to that.” you giggle, looking in her eyes for a few seconds to make sure she’s sure about this before nodding and turning your back to her so she can put it on you.

Her hands gently touch your skin as you clasps the jewelry onto you, leaving a trail of warmth on the back of your neck before she puts her hands back into her lap. You turn to face her again, hands moving to fidget with the necklace. It’s a gold chain, a small sun charm hanging from it in the middle. It’s beautiful.

“Thank you Katniss.” You say, words sincere as she moves to lay in between your legs with her head on your chest. She doesn't say anything, just placing a kiss on your collarbone that speaks more than enough.

The door creaks open once more, her fight of flight instantly getting triggered as she shields your body with her own and looks over her shoulder. Her tense state calms a little bit when she sees it’s only Haymitch, mumbling something about needing a drink when he sees Katniss in your room. “I was doing night checks. Making sure your person’s still alive.” He mumbles, clearly pointed towards your girlfriend after she threatened him this morning with a syringe to tell give her updates every once and a while about how you were doing.

You find yourself letting out a small laugh, one of the first you’ve had in what feels like an eternity even though it’s only been about a month and a half.

Katniss smiles at the sound of your joy, the first real one since she learned you were alive.

She may not always be able to protect you, but hopefully the trinket will.

Even if it doesn’t, one things for sure. Her dad would have loved you.

Not as much as she does though.

#katniss everdeen x reader #katniss everdeen x you #katniss everdeen #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #what is that ending T-T #dying yall. send help.

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kwanisms · 1 year

Text

Kinkuary 13 Changbin — formal wear // choking

➥ power bottom!Changbin × switch!Reader summary: Looking at Seo Changbin, one would expect him to be a dominant kind of man but that couldn't be further from the truth. At least, not with his girlfriend. She's the one who calls the shots, especially when Changbin is wearing his suit and tie. wc: 2.7k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, alcohol consumption, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): switch!Reader, power bottom!Changbin, formal wear kink, sensory deprivation (blindfolding and that's it lol), choking kink, Changbin has an oral fixation, teasing, use of pet names (reader calls Changbin sweet things like babe, good boy), tit play, Changbin is very vocal, let me know if I missed any warnings! a/n: normally I'd write Changbin as a dom or as a switch at the very least but I wanted to try something different. I hope I did well and you enjoy this part! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms. Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan Stray Kids taglist: @niktwazny303 @g4m3girl @rapmonie2047 @indigo35 @witherednotes @cixrosie @fay-ebrahim @kirooz @flowerboykun @beomgyusbabygirl Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED AND BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

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“Well don’t you look nice,” you said, glancing up as Changbin entered the room. He looked down at where you sat, eyes looking him up and down.

It was no secret between the two of you that you loved it when he dressed up, especially in a suit or a tux as he was wearing now. You always liked it the most when he came home all dressed up. It was like getting a present.

Noticing the look in your eyes, Changbin tried not to think about how you looked like you were about to jump his bones any second. ‘I should have changed at the building. She’s about to make it very difficult for me to leave.’

His cheeks turned pink, images playing in his head about why he might be late before he turned to search for his shoes. “Where are you going?” You asked, settling back against the couch as you returned your attention to your book, the tv playing in the background.

“One of my manager’s is getting married today, remember?” Changbin answered as he finally found the shoes he was looking for and moved to the dining table to put them on.

You did remember. You remembered how he came home and told you the news. You were happy for his manager but when Changbin said that he couldn’t bring you, in fact that he was forbidden to bring you with him, you suddenly weren’t as happy as before.

Truth be told, you were actually pretty bitter about the whole situation for a few days but as time went on, you eventually forgot that bitterness and went about your life as usual. Until Changbin appeared in his suit anyway.

Now you were bitter again.

It wasn’t like his managers didn’t know you existed or that you and Changbin were together. They were well aware and never made any demand that Changbin end things or hide you away from the world. Even the fans knew you existed.

So why you were forbidden from attending the wedding was beyond you and it was beyond Changbin as well.

“Well, have fun,” you said shortly, not noticing the way Changbin threw a guilty look your way. He felt beyond horrible that he had to be the one to tell you that you couldn’t come to the wedding with him. He wanted nothing more than to take you with him, show you off, and dance with you.

But his manager was adamant. You were not permitted to attend the ceremony or reception.

It was no secret his manager, for some reason, didn't like you and Changbin couldn’t fathom why. You were always polite, extremely intelligent, unimaginably funny, and a complete joy to be around. It was a mystery not only to him but to the rest of Stray Kids as well. Neither he nor his friends could figure out why his manager seemingly detested you.

He couldn’t do anything about it now. It was his manager’s wedding after all so it was his decision.

Changbin got up, shoes now tied properly and walked over to where you sat, leaning over the back of the couch and kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back later,” he said softly. You hummed in response, keeping your eyes on your book. “I love you,” Changbin whispered.

You set your book down and looked up at him. “I love you, too.”

He took the opportunity to steal a kiss from you, his body demanding more as he pulled away, not knowing your body was craving more but you’d have to wait until he got home later.

“I’ll see you later tonight.”

You occupied your time with reading until you finished your book and decided to get some chores done. The laundry was waiting to be done and the dishwasher needed to be emptied and refilled so you started with the laundry, making sure to empty both yours and Changbin’s hampers.

While the washer worked, you emptied the dishwasher, putting away the clean dishes before filling it with the dirty ones and shut the door. The washer buzzed, signaling it had finished some time later and you started the dishwasher and moved to put the wet laundry in the dryer.

While the dryer ran, you watched some television, catching the tail end of an episode of a drama you’d already watched with your boyfriend. You decided to tidy up to kill time until the dryer finally dinged, letting you know it was done.

With the fresh laundry in a basket, you sat on the couch, folding your clothes, sorting between yours and Changbin’s as you worked. You flipped through channels, trying to find something to watch but finding nothing. Instead you booted up Netflix and put on a movie you’d been meaning to watch while you folded laundry.

Once done, you took the clean clothes to the bedroom and put it away, hanging up your nice blouses and Changbin’s shirts. You put away the rest of the clothes and put the empty basket on top of the dryer, closing the folding doors and heading to the kitchen to make a bowl of popcorn before heading back into the living room to resume the movie.

As the movie was wrapping up, the front door opened and you glanced over as Changbin arrived home. He kicked his shoes off, tossing his keys onto the counter as he locked the door and walked further into the apartment.

His eyes landed on you and the previous expression on his face melted and softened as he moved to throw himself onto the couch. You let out a cry of surprise as he threw himself onto your lap, burying his face in your waist as his arms wrapped around you.

“Changbin, what the—?” You started but he shook his head. “I missed you,” he said softly. You hesitated before relaxing against the couch, running your fingers through his styled locks, messing it up but you couldn’t be bothered.

Changbin loved it when you ran your fingers through his hair.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table and you leaned forward to grab the device, ignoring Changbin’s whines of protest. You unlocked the screen to see a text from Chris.

Chris🐨: did Bin make it upstairs okay? You: yeah, he threw himself onto my lap as soon as he got his shoes off Chris🐨: good. He did not have a good time tonight You: what? Why? Chris🐨: he missed you a lot. He wanted you here You: i wish i could have been there but not much we could have done about that Chris🐨: i know it just Chris🐨: i’ve never seen him like this before Chris🐨: it really tore him up, not being able to bring you with him You: i understand, thanks chris Chris🐨: no problem y/n

You set your phone aside and looked down at Changbin. ‘Poor guy.’

“Did you have too much to drink?” You whispered, expecting him to say yes. “Not really,” he grumbled. “Just not in a good mood.”

Your brow furrowed but chose to ignore it. “Anything I can do to help?” You asked, noticing the way he merely shrugged.

“Oh hey, I didn’t get a good look at you before you left,” you said suddenly.

Changbin lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“Get up,” you urged, making him whine in protest. You nudged him until he conceded with a whine. He got up and stood before you for a moment before sitting down. “That wasn’t nearly long enough,” you pouted.

“Do it again.”

Changbin whined but stood up again, cheeks burning as you checked him out.

“Are you done?” He asked, drawing your attention back to his face.

You got up slowly, hand moving up his chest to his shoulder, then down his arm to take his hand in yours before tugging him from the living room and to the bedroom.

You pulled him into you, lips meeting and surprising him but he welcomed the kiss all the same as his hands found purchase on your waist. “What’s gotten into you?” He mumbled as your lips left his, trailing down his jaw to his neck. “Hopefully you will,” you murmured cheekily.

Changbin groaned, his hands moving to your hips, pulling your body closer to his.

“Shit, Y/N. All this because I wore a tux?” He asked, a hint of amusement to his voice. You nodded, turning him to push him back onto the bed, causing him to laugh as he landed on his back on the mattress.

“You’re something else,” he said as you undid his jacket, making him sit up to push the article off him, your hand going to his tie and pulling it loose. “You know you’re supposed to wear a bowtie with tuxedos,” you chastised him jokingly.

You pulled the tie off as he chuckled. “I don’t have any bowties here,” he answered as you undid the knot in the tie. “Then maybe you should get some,” you replied, holding the tie up.

“Keep undressing me and I’ll get something,” he retorted as you carefully wrapped the tie around his head, tying it firmly to restrict his eyesight. “What are you doing?” He asked, looking around blindly, making you giggle, pushing him onto his back.

“Keep it on,” you warned as your fingers moved to undo his shirt one button at a time until you got to his pants. You undid the belt, pulling it from the loops and threw it aside with a grumble when it fought against you.

Changbin laughed from under you though he couldn’t see.

Your fingers fumbled with the button and zipper on his pants until you were finally able to pull his pants down, climbing off him and taking the fabric with you and throwing it away. You pulled him up to sit and pushed the shirt off him.

“You’ve taken so much off me,” he said as you climbed back onto his lap, his hands moving to your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “But you’re still fully clothed,” he pouted.

Without a word, you pulled your top off, dropping it behind you onto the floor. Changbin’s hands slid up your sides, moving to your chest to cup your breasts over your bralette.

“Am I going to wear this blindfold the whole time?” Changbin asked as your hips moved, grinding against his cloth covered erection. You nodded, humming in response. “Until I say you can take it off.”

You pushed him back onto the mattress, leaning over to take his lips in a teasing set of kisses, making him chase your lips each time you pulled away. “Stop teasing me,” he groaned, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a rough kiss, his other hand grabbing your thigh, fingers digging into your skin.

Your hips continued to move, rolling and grinding against him until Changbin couldn’t take it anymore. “You just gonna strip me down and not fuck me?” He growled.

You sat up, climbing off him. He thought he’d fucked up until he felt you tug his underwear down, probably throwing them somewhere in the room. You always undressed him so hastily when he came home dressed up.

You climbed back on top, taking in the site of your blindfolded boyfriend below you. Taking his cock in your hand, you gave him a few strokes before sinking down, your lips parting in a moan as you took him in one motion.

“Fuck,” Changbin hissed, his hands grabbing your hips. “That’s all I had to say?” He asked with a chuckle, letting out a moan as you rolled your hips experimentally. “Don’t talk back,” you warned. “Or I won’t let you cum.”

Changbin fell silent, letting out a groan as you lifted off him, sinking back down on his cock and setting a steady pace, lifting your hips and sinking back down on his cock. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, hands moving up to your chest.

“Oh, you finally got fully undressed too?” He asked, cupping your tits and squeezing gently. “Only because you’ve been such a good boy,” you replied, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as his hands moved, thumbs brushing over and circling your nipples, the skin pebbling under his touch.

“He noticed how the skin changed under his touch. “I don’t even need to see to be able to affect you,” he chuckled, rolling your nipple under the pad of his thumb.

“I wish you’d let me fuck these,” he added, squeezing and pushing your tits together. You moaned, walls clenching around his cock. “Shit,” you hissed.

Changbin sat up, lips finding your nipple and taking it in his mouth, his tongue swirling around and lightly flicking against the sensitive bud while his other hand kneaded and teased your other nipple, gently squeezing and rolling it between his fingers. “Keep going,” Changbin said breathlessly. “Keep riding me like that.”

Your thighs were starting to burn but you weren’t going to give up that easily. “You sound so pretty,” Changbin whispered as you moaned, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Are you getting tired?” he asked in an amused voice. You lifted your head, putting your hands on his shoulders and pushing him onto his back.

“Stay down,” you ordered, making Changbin chuckle. He loved it when you tried to act like you were in control.

“Whatever you say, babe,” he said teasingly, his hands moving to your hips. “Just ride me.”

One of your hands moved to his neck, wrapping your fingers around his throat lightly.

“You talk too much,” you snapped breathlessly, squeezing your boyfriend's neck slightly.

Changbin has never regretted teaching you how to choke more than right now. He never expected you to actually use it against him but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a little hot, your hand on his neck as you rode him, chasing your own orgasm.

He was fine with you cumming first. You usually did and he normally made it his mission to make you cum first so when you sank onto him one last time, moaning his name as you came, he was more than happy to take over.

He ripped the blindfold off, tossing the silk tie aside as he sat up, pushing you onto your back and immediately resumed the same pace, thrusting into you, pushing your thighs back and folding your body in half.

Not only was this his favorite position, he got to help you ride out your current climax while also speeding you towards another one. You didn't even have time to catch your breath before you were cumming again with a cry, chanting Changbin’s name over and over like a mantra as your walls convulsed around him.

The fluttering of your cunt sent him over the edge as he came, burying his cock as deep into you as he could reach, his load exploding inside you, filling you up as you shuddered. “Fuck!” Changbin hissed, arms shaking as he tried to keep himself from collapsing onto you.

He let your legs go, one at a time and finally laid down, resting his head on your chest, cheek pressing to your skin and hearing your heart hammering in your chest almost in time with his own.

“You okay?” you asked, fingers combing through his hair, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead.

“Yeah,” he panted. “Just give me a second.”

You hummed in response, continuing to card your fingers through his hair as you both came down from your post orgasm highs, the exhaustion passing and giving way for the euphoric feeling that always followed.

“You wanna shower?” Changbin murmured, finally breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

You nodded. “I could go for a shower,” you sighed. Changbin finally pushed himself up, his cock already having slipped out of you and his cum working its way out of your cunt. “Keep that in there,” Changbin said softly, using his fingers to collect the small amount that spilled out and pushed it back in.

You slapped his hand away playfully, admonishing him. “Changbin!”

He smiled cheekily as he rolled off the bed and waited for you to get up to join him.

“Now we're showering, right?” You asked as he took your hand and dragged you towards your shared bathroom.

“Right? We’re showering, aren't we? Changbin?” You asked as he chuckled.

“Maybe we are and maybe we aren’t,” he answered as he pulled you into the bathroom with him.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #changbin scenarios #changbin imagines #changbin smut #changbin x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

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tillthelandslide · 3 months

Text

Same For You (13) : Take Me Higher

A/n: hi!!! i'm so sorry it took me so long to post this, to those tha saw the unfinished version i accidentally posted, sorry haha. Once again I need to thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for listening to my ideas on this one and helping me always :). I miss you all and hopefully soon can get to a more regular posting schedule. For now, I hope you enjoy (p.s i love this series hehe)

Series Masterlist

(12) June

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Smut. p.s its a long one but trust me its worth it

She's stressed when she arrives at the studio, hands shaking with everything she does. The writing on the page is unsteady, fingers trembling against the strings of the guitar, making the music sound wobbly and flat. She doesn't have the band to fall back on, she can't ask Abbie to record her parts and she most definitely cannot escape the worried looks from the four men. Oh yeah, Jamie was sitting in on the session too. She wanted to impress him, but instead she feels like a mess. It's a nightmare.

George sits at the soundboard, thumb resting under his chin, fingers playing with his lip. He wants to ask if she's okay, but he also doesn't want to put more pressure on her. She sighs deeply, running a hand through her hair before throwing it up into a messy bun.

"Sorry one more time" she says, rolling back her shoulders and adjusting her grip on the guitar when it inevitably slips. Ross’ hand clamps around the arm of the chair, watching her, knowing how she was feeling, wanting to envelope her in his arms and take her worry away.

It was hard seeing her like this, from the moment they met her there was an indescribable ease that radiated from her, like meeting someone who was already exactly who they were supposed to be. Music came naturally to her and seeing her like this was… unsettling. They all felt sympathy for her, knowing (without her having to mention) that something was seriously wrong.

"We can take a break Y/n/n" George says, eyes finding hers through the glass as his fingertips press the button that allows her to hear him. Her eyes flick to Jamie's who smiles and nods, agreeing with George.

"No I'm good G, once more I swear" she says and he nods.

Matty’s hand hovers over George’s fingers, they don’t touch but when George sees his eyes flick to his, one look in his eyes and his finger stays put on the button for a moment, broadcasting Matty’s next words into the other room.

“This is it Y/n/n okay? You’ve got this” his words have her easing slightly, shoulders rolling back before she breathes in deeply, eyes shutting before they open again and she smiles, nodding at Matty.

She sees the red button light up, indicating that recording is in progress and her fingers move against the guitar again. She plays the guitar solo flawlessly, but all of the guys notice how her fingers buzz slightly. She finishes and sighs deeply, she still thinks she can do better.

"That was really good Y/n" Jamie says, smiling widely at her, putting his thumbs up, normally she’d tease him for it, call him an old man just to make him laugh, but she doesn’t… even he knows something is up then.

"Perfect" George says, and her eyes find him through the glass again, he knows she's going to ask to record it once more before she does and he speaks before she gets the chance.

"Don't ask to do it again Y/n/n, it was perfect... get outta that head of yours okay?" he asks and she nods with a sigh. George looks at the guys, leaving the microphone on so she can hear him.

"Going to go for a fag okay" he says and she nods mumbling a "be there in a minute, don't wait up" she says, nodding to both Ross and Matty. Jamie follows the man, phoning someone on his way.

Matty thinks about hanging back, but since his conversation with Ross he's apprehensive. It seems that ever since Ross told him to act the same, he’s been doing the opposite, he didn’t know why, but he felt a level of pressure now, although he knows that wasn’t the man's intention. But when Ross' hand finds his shoulder and he smiles, he knows it's okay.

"Hang back okay?" he says and Matty nods. When he enters the room, she's unplugging her guitar, placing it into its case. It's then that he realises she's using the light blue guitar, the first of two her brother had bought for her.

"You alright love?" he asks, she doesn't speak but nods and he knows she's lying. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at her, she stands from her spot, standing opposite him. She lasts three seconds before she sighs deeply, rolling her eyes and chuckling at him.

"That's not fair" she says, pointing at him. He shrugs and mumbles a "don't know what you're talking about darling" she sighs again. Her hands find her hair, letting it fall down her back from its place in a bun.

She finds it funny how quickly she breaks around him, walls falling down and colliding with his own, destroying them in the process.

"Liv called me this morning, apparently something happened at June's school, some bully pushed him over in the playground and he busted his lip... just shook me up a bit" she explains, hands resting against her forearms, almost to protect herself. She finds it a little ridiculous that she's shaking so much, but she wanted nothing more than to be there with June.

"Hey it's okay" Matty says, stepping forward, hands finding hers against her arms, running along them to calm her. She looks up at him with soft eyes, he smiles softly down at her and some of the tension eases from her.

"Is that what's gotten you so shaken up?" he asks and she nods, he pulls her in then, hugging her tightly.

"And why I'm messing up" she says, he pulls back slightly, shaking his head down at her.

"Don't do that... you're fine, we all get off days" he explains and she sighs.

"Mine had to be on a day when Jamie's here... wanted to impress him" she admits, despite thinking it sounded a little silly.

"He's impressed, trust me" he says, pulling her to his chest again.

"Do you know what's happening with him?" Matty asks and she nods again, mumbling her next words into his chest.

"He's in the emergency room at the moment, waiting to be seen" she explains and he nods.

"Want me to drive you there?" he asks and she shakes her head.

"No it's okay... He'd hate that" she says, laughing at the thought of an angry June. He hated fuss.

"Okay, but he'd forgive you... do you want to be with him?" Matty asks and she nods.

"I do... but it's fine... I'll wait until Liv calls me again" Matty nods and hugs her again. There’s a moment of silence before Matty speaks again.

"Any reason you're using that guitar" he points to the open case and her eyes fall to it.

"Didn't feel right using the green one today... don't know why, just a feeling" she says and he nods, placing a haste kiss to her forehead before pulling away.

The pair leave the room after that, joining the other men downstairs, both who have finished their cigarettes now, Jamie still on the phone. She smiles at Ross who wraps an arm loosely around her shoulders. George begins talking to Matty but he doesn't really listen, too busy eavesdropping on what Ross says to her.

"Heard anything from Olivia yet?" he asks. Of course he already knew. Matty still appreciates the fact he encouraged him to talk to her.

"Not yet..." she says. After Matty and her share a fag (mainly to save time) they return to the studio. She records some more for the track, less shaky this time. Half way through her recording some vocals, her phone rings by the sound desk. George pauses the track and speaks through the microphone again.

"Phone's ringing Y/n" he says, she rushes into the connecting room, taking the phone from the drummer's hand. "Girls" is the ringtone and they all smile.

"Sorry... Liv's favourite song" she says making them all chuckle before she's picking up.

"Hi" she answers, before her face is covered with panic. They can hear someone talking quickly on the other side of the phone.

"Okay, okay, okay" she says quickly "Liv! Breathe!" she says and they hear the phone go quiet. Her eyes flick between the guys and she speaks again "I've got an idea but just bare with me okay?". Liv mumbles a "okay" before Y/n removes the phone from her ear to speak to the guys.

"Okay... June's had stitches, but Liv's boss is being a dick and demanding she goes back to work but it's too short notice to get a babysitter and he can't go back to school" she explains and all the guys nod. George is slightly confused, but Jamie the most confused out of all of them for he didn't know who Liv or June was. Y/n and George had briefly spoken about the passing of her brother but hadn't spoken about his son or his girlfriend.

George shares a look with Ross, one in which reads "I'll catch you up later".

"I know it's a right pain in the arse and I understand you saying no... but could he come here for a few hours? Just until Liv can pick him up?" she asks.

"Of course love" Matty says and Ross smiles whilst Jamie nods, he doesn’t know who she’s talking about but he didn’t mind if it helped her out.

"Yeah... no problem at all" Ross says and then George nods too. She brings the phone to her ear again and continues talking to her sister in law.

"Bring him here okay? - Yeah the guys said it's fine... Yeah? I'll send you the address" they hear her say.

"Love, I can take you to pick him up," Matty says, drawing her attention to him. She shakes her head but smiles at him, mouthing a "thank you" as Olivia speaks.

"Okay... see you soon. Love you too" she says. She hangs up then sighs deeply.

"Sorry about that" she says, eyes finding George's then.

"You must be so confused" she says to George and Jamie, both who nod. She proceeds to tell him about June and Olivia whilst Matty and Ross clear up a little, having heard from her that her nephew was a bit of a menace and had already sustained an injury today and didn't need anymore.

20 minutes passes by and her phone buzzes with a text from Olivia, explaining that they were here. She leaves the guy's in the room, each working on something and not wanting to disturb them. She walks down the stairs, leading to outside. She finds them outside, June smiling widely at her and running and jumping into her eyes. He lands with an "omph" from her and it makes him giggle.

"Careful Junebug, don't get any more injuries whilst I'm gone" Olivia says.

"Mum!" he complains "don't call me that" it makes Y/n laugh, pulling him gently back by his chin to look at his lip. He has a few stitches on his bottom lip and it's a little jutted out, making him look poutier than usual. He also has a small cut on his chin that’s clearly been cleaned but didn’t need stitches.

"Ooo, look at you" she says and he laughs, pulling back and straightening up as if proud.

“Look cool huh?” he asks and it makes her laugh, eyes flicking to his mum who rolls his eyes.

“It was that Rory kid again” Olivia says, clearly angry at the fact. Rory was a child in June’s class who was a huge dick, he often made stupid jokes about how June didn’t have a dad and truly deserved to be shoved himself. She puts June down, placing a hand on the top of his head to keep his attention on her.

“Better have pushed him back June” she says and Olivia laughs when June’s eyes flash with mischief.

“Oh he did a bit more than that, didn’t you June?” Olivia says, the child's eyes flick up to Y/n and he nods proudly.

“Punched him” June says matter-of-factly, the tone making her laugh.

“Good on you bud” she says, turning to her sister-in-law. She doesn't doubt that Olivia had to have the mandatory "we don't condone violence but well done for sticking up for yourself" talk which gave her plenty of space to be the proud auntie, congratulating him for giving a mean kid what he deserved. Problematic or not, she didn't care.

"Thank you so much for this Y/n" Olivia says, pulling her into a brief hug and accepting the bag of his things.

"Happy to help... tell the boss to" she leans forward slightly so only Olivia can hear "fuck off" it makes her laugh. The door opens behind her and she turns, seeing Ross. She smiles at him and he smiles back. She's kind of happy that he'd be the first to meet her nephew.

"Sorry, was just checking you were okay" he says, stepping onto the street. It's very kind, a fact not going unnoticed by Olivia.

"Ross this is Olivia... Oliva, this is Ross" she says and Ross smiles at her, offering her his hand to shake.

"Lovely to meet you" he says "Nice to meet you, heard a lot about you" Olivia says, making the man raise his eyebrows at Y/n who rolls her eyes at her sister in law.

Ross' eyes then land on June and Y/n watches as he kneels down to greet the little man.

"You must be June" Ross says, each of the women chuckle when June grips onto Y/n's calf and hides from the man.

"The bassist" his words have the boy coming out from his hiding place, smiling widely at the bearded man.

"Nice to meet you, how about we go upstairs and you can have a go on my bass huh?" he asks and June nods happily, grabbing his hand in that completely uncaring way children did. Y/n stands mouth slightly agape at the sight, heart beating rapidly in her chest. Just when she thought she couldn't find him any more attractive.

"Thank you again" Olivia says, pulling her into a hug again, murmuring a "he's hot" before pulling away.

"I'll call you when I finish work" she says as she opens her car door.

"Junior" she says, drawing the child's attention from the man who he was talking excitedly too.

"Be good for auntie Y/n okay?" he nods before his mum shuts the door and carefully drives off.

"Ready for this bud?" she asks as June takes her hand again, one holding hers, the other holding Ross', he nods and the three of them walk him upstairs to the studio. Jamie meets them at the top of the stairs, introducing himself to the child. Maybe it's because Jamie is a father himself but June isn't shy around him, immediately talking his ear off and allowing him to take him into the studio.

The boy's eyes fill with childlike wonder when he enters the room, clinging to Y/n when he sees two tall men sitting in the room. One with curly hair like his, a guitar resting in his lap and the other tall man sitting behind a drum kit.

"Don't be shy June, they won't hurt you" she says with a laugh, one hand finding the back of his head and giving him a gentle nudge forward. Suddenly, the June she knows springs to life, straightening his shoulders and moving forward confidently.

"I’m Junior, but you can call me June" he announces and it makes her laugh loudly, her head thrown back. Ross smiles at the sight, his heart doing a harsh pitter-patter in his chest and skipping a beat. Matty puts his guitar down and walks up to the boy, leaning down and offering a hand to him.

"Hey mate, I'm Matthew, but you can call me Matty" he says and June accepts his hand, shaking it harshly.

"Matty" he repeats and the man smiles and nods.

"Some grip you've got there mate" he says, eyes flicking up to her, the both of them smiling widely at each other.

"You've got hair like me" June says happily, flashing a toothy smile at the man, his dimples showing on his cheeks. Matty nods at the boy before he loses interest and walks over to George, staring up at him with his mouth open. Y/n watches with her finger in-between her lips, trying to hold in her laughter.

"I'm June!" he announces again.

"Hey mate, I'm George" he says, shaking his hand too.

"Just George?" June says, cocking his head to the side.

"George Daniel, but you can call me George or G" the man says and everyone begins to smile.

"George Daniel? Aren't they both first names? That's weird" they all laugh loudly at that, George cackling, eyebrows raised at her.

"He's got a point mate" Matty says and she laughs.

"He's cheeky" Ross says and Y/n nods "little Dylan" she says with a smile, June then runs up to them, clinging to her leg again.

"He sounds like Dad" the kid mumbles to her. The guys fall silent then, waiting to see what she says.

"Dylan had a really deep voice just like you G" Y/n says to the guys before she looks at June again. When she met June, Olivia asked for videos of Dylan so June could get to know his dad despite him not being able to meet him. She doesn't quite know what to say.

She's grateful when she feels a large hand rest against her back, before the man is speaking.

"Your dad used to play bass too, right?" Ross says and June nods.

"How about I show you some stuff?" Ross asks and June jumps excitedly, taking Ross' hand and dragging him towards his bass which rests in a stand. She finds Ross' eyes and mouths a "thank you" he just smiles at her. She watches as Ross takes the bass in his hands, playing the bassline to one of their songs, it makes June smile widely, raising his eyebrows at the man.

"Wanna try?" Ross says and the boy nods excitedly. He hadn't been learning for too long (a fact he tells Ross) as the bass was a big guitar and even now looked a little funny resting in the small boy's hands. Despite this Ross teaches him something simple, smiling impressively when he plays it easily.

"He's good, '' he says to Y/n who smiles and nods. Ross tries to teach him something a little more advanced, an original baseline he had written for the song they were recording today and she smiles when June gets frustrated because he can't quite reach the right strings.

It's like watching a splitting image of her brother, when he'd get frustrated at her for not getting things quite right. She walks over to the pair, sitting down opposite June, next to Ross.

"Try this" Ross says, adjusting the boy's hand slightly, this time when he tries his fingers reach the right strings and he cheers happily.

"Hey mate" George says as he joins the group, "that sounds good" June smiles up at him at that.

"Ross taught me it!" That makes her smile widely and she can't help but reach for her phone, snapping a quick picture of the child.

"Wanna record it? Be on your first record?" George suggests and June nods excitedly.

"Alright with you, auntie Y/n?" George says, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth, making her laugh and roll her eyes at the man.

"Of course... going to be on your first record at the age of 6 bud" she says. Ross takes the bass from the child and he hugs Y/n tightly. Matty and Y/n set up everything ready for him, plugging in the bass.

"Okay mate, so this is how it works, see this" Matty says, pointing to a little red button to the left of where they stand, the boy nods.

"That will turn red when George clicks record" June nods again.

"And then you'll hear these little clicks in your ear phones" Matty says, nodding to George who clicks play briefly so June can hear what he's talking about. He then pauses the track to allow Matty to continue to explain.

"The metronome" everyone smiles at the boy's words, it also raises a few eyebrows, each of the guys impressed.

"That's right" Matty nods.

"Then you'll hear Y/n's beautiful voice okay?" June nods again and smiles at her. She rolls her eyes at the compliment but smiles at Matty.

"We can count you in and then you can play yeah?" June nods.

"What if I mess up?" June says.

"Don't worry about that mate, auntie Y/n messes up all the time" Matty says making her laugh loudly.

"Unfair" she says, eyes finding him, he sticks his tongue at her and it makes the child smile and laugh.

"Ready bud?" she asks and he nods. She shuffles back, allowing Matty to take over, the man counting the child in when needed. She watches proudly as he smashes it, getting the short baseline right on the first go. Ross steps in to take the bass from him and watches as the child pounces on Y/n excitedly, knocking her from her crouched position.

She cushions the child's fall with two hands on his back as he hugs her tightly. She laughs loudly and everyone smiles fondly at the sight.

"Smashed it kid!" she says, nuzzling her face into his neck and embarrassing him.

George does a quick edit of the new recording and then plays the track out loud. June sits up suddenly, clutching her hand tightly.

"You did that bud" George says through the microphone.

"Rockstar" Matty says, making him smile widely again.

By the end of the day, June is well and truly tired: having had a go on the drum kit (accompanied by George and making a load of racket), taught a simple guitar riff by Matty (after they spoke about their curly hair together, something y/n found ridiculously adorable) and having played Ross' bass again (crawling into the man's lap and working with him to reach the right strings, something yn snapped a few pictures of, immediately sending them to Olivia).

Now he's asleep in Y/n's arms on a sofa in the studio, with an inflated ego (having received a multitude of compliments by the bandmates), indented fingers and a happy smile resting on his busted lips.

"You're really good with him" Jamie says, sitting opposite her. The guys are working on this and that whilst laughing together.

"Thanks" she says, smiling down at the child as she smooths a hand through his curls.

"How old is he?"

"6"

"Ooo rough age that" Jamie says, making her laugh.

"Matty told me about your brother... Sorry to hear it" Jamie says.

"It's okay... been a while"

"6 years I'm guessing" Jamie says and she nods with a smile, eyes back on her nephew.

"You're really close with him huh?"

"Only known him for 4 years... but he's the most important person in my life" she says, eyes moving upwards and finding the boys. They were all sat at the sound desk, Matty's legs resting below the various buttons, arms hooked over his knees as he laughed with his head thrown back. George had a hand hooked behind his shoulders, laughing that bizarre cackling laugh he did that instantly made her smile. And Ross, sat next to Matty, eyes crinkled as he smiled widely, dimples showing and eyes sparkling, Ross’ chesty chuckle ringing around the room.

"One of the most important people" she corrects and Jamie looks behind them, where she's looking and smiles widely.

"They really care about you, you know" Jamie says and she nods.

"I know..."

"Think they would've been heartbroken if you guys hadn't signed the contract" he admits and she chuckles.

"Was always going to sign the contract Jamie" she admits and he nods.

"I know..." he pauses but she knows he has more to say, he hesitates but then speaks again "just want to make sure you're doing it for the right reasons" she knows what he's suggesting. That she was doing it because of them. She couldn't deny they nudged her in the right direction, made the decision an easier one, but it was always going to be the right thing to do. The offer was too good to refuse.

"I've wanted this since I was 6 Jamie... And we had plenty of opportunities but they were never... right? This feels right" she explains and he nods slowly.

"But does it feel right because of them?" he asks; it was a fair question. But she knew the answer. Her eyes find them again anyway and she smiles.

"It feels right because this is the first time we have worked with people who haven't shut down our ideas the first chance they get. It feels right because Abbie and Matty work well together, because Clara and Ross come up with dope basslines and because for the first time ever Jay doesn't fight against others' ideas, he rolls with them. It feels right because we've met people who are just like us, with a creative vision that they nourish instead of stomping out and a label who supports that. So yes it feels right because of them, but not just because of them" she explains and Jamie nods and smiles.

"Good" he says, reaching for her hand and squeezing gently before leaving her. Her phone begins to ring and the boy in her lap stirs gently, but not enough to wake up. She answers quietly.

"Hi" she says in a hushed voice.

"I'm downstairs"

"Okay... June's asleep..." she says.

"You got him?"

"yeah I've got him, be down in a second" she hangs up, hand drifting through the child's hair again.

"June my love... gotta wake up bud, Mum's here" she says and the child groans, stirring in her lap and nuzzling his head into her hand.

"Everything okay?" she hears, her eyes snap up and she sees Ross smiling down at her.

"Yeah just a stubborn child" she says, chuckling and attempting to wake the child again. When he doesn't wake she stands unsteadily, the child heavy in her arms. She begins walking with him but struggles.

"Can I?" Ross asks, gesturing to the child in her arms. She trusts him with her life and the offer is so sweet it has her stomach dipping and soaring. She nods with a smile and allows the man to carry the child, the two of them walking down the stairs. Matty watches him and smiles when their eyes meet.

"Hi!" Olivia says when she sees the pair, practically fawning over the man that's carrying her child.

"Thank you Ross, that's really sweet" she says, opening the back door of her car and allowing the man to slide him into the back seat carefully.

"No trouble" he says, smiling down at her.

"How was he?" Olivia directs her question to Y/n who smiles widely.

"He was an angel" Olivia raises her eyebrows at that.

"He played the bass with Ross and even recorded a bit for a track" she says, Olivia smiling at that.

"Oh that's amazing, thank you squish" Ross smirks at the name, reminding himself to ask about it later. "Forever going to be the best auntie, he's never going to shut up about his rock star aunt at school now. Thank you again... all of you" she says, directing the last of her words to Ross.

"Our pleasure truly... He's welcome anytime" it makes Y/n smile widely and Ross smile back at her. She knows Olivia is going to ask something a bit personal before she does but she doesn't have the chance to intercept it before it happens.

"Do you have kids Ross?" she knows he doesn't, Y/n had told her basically everything there was to know about the man. In fact, she was one of the only people that knew how confusing her thoughts about him and his friend were.

"No" he chuckles "my brother has a son... he means the world to me to be honest" he admits and it makes Y/n smile again.

"That's really sweet" Olivia says, eyes landing on Y/n and she smirks and raises her eyebrows again.

"Anyway... we should be going" Olivia says "thanks again", she steps forward, wrapping her sister-in-law in a tight hug.

"If you don't fuck that man I will kill you" she murmurs into her ear. Ross catches the gist of the words and it makes him smirk, turning his head so as to not look like he heard on purpose.

"You're so annoying" she murmurs back before pulling away, Y/n hands her June's bag and she then enters the car, stopping once she's nearly inside.

"Seriously do it, it will be good for you" Olivia says.

"Goodbye Olivia!" she says, rolling her eyes and shutting the woman's door. Y/n then turns to Ross, as Olivia begins driving off.

"Sorry about that" she says, awkwardly running a hand through her hair, hoping he didn't hear her words.

"Thank you for today... you were really good with him" she says, stepping forward slightly so they were closer.

"You're welcome... he's a good kid" Ross says, pulling her closer, hands closing around her waist. Someone drives past and beeps at them, Ross pulls away and takes her hand, taking them round the corner of the building for some more privacy. He pulls her towards him then, his back finding the wall of the building as he holds her flush to him.

"Care to explain what squish is?" he asks, one hand hooking under her chin, gently holding her face in his soft grasp.

"You caught that huh?" she chuckles and he nods. She laughs and rolls her eyes at the thought of having to explain this just because of Olivia.

"Promise not to take the piss out of me?" she asks, hands finding his chest, flattening against the covered flesh, smoothing against it and smiling at the sight.

"Me? Never" he says and it makes her laugh again.

"When I was younger... whenever people said things I didn't like, didn't agree with or things that made me uncomfortable, I would try to hide my opinion but without knowing it I would squish my face up... I showed videos of Dyl and I to June so he'd know his dad a little more y’know… Olivia has been calling me that ever since" she explains and Ross smiles.

"Well now I've just got to see that" he says, pushing forward slightly, nudging her body with his a little.

"Never" she says.

"Please" he begs, she shakes her head. He pulls her tighter towards him, nuzzling into her neck and mumbling another "please", drawing a "no" from her.

"I can be really persuasive" he mumbles into her ear before his lips find her neck, lightly moving against the skin. Her eyes flutter shut at the feeling and she sighs.

"Please" he mumbles against the skin, leaving a simple peck there before pulling back. She supposes it's because she knows he may reward her if she does it so her nose scrunches up, her eyes squint and her lips purse.

"That's simply adorable" he says, a jokey tone to his voice before he places a peck to her scrunched up nose. Her face falls back to normal and she shoves him lightly. He copies her previous face, scrunching his nose, lightly mocking her.

"You're mean" she says, hands pressing against his chest, sending him backwards against the wall again.

"And you're adorable" he says, leaning forward before he dips to the left, nuzzling back into her neck making her giggle, hands finding the back of his head, attempting to pull him away from her. Her hands grasp his bun, lightly tugging at it, he moves with it, pulling back from her neck, smiling down at her.

"Careful squish... might have to listen to Olivia if you do that again" he jokes but his words let her know that he did indeed hear her sister-in-law’s words earlier.

"Don't get cocky now MacDonald '' she raises with a huge smile. They fall silent for a second before her eyes flick to his mouth. It's a comfortable silence, undeniably sweet.

"You made his day today... thank you again" she says and he smiles down at her again, hands finding her chin again.

"It was nice... made me miss the little man though" he admits, referring to his own nephew.

"When do you get to see him again?" she asks.

"I'll arrange to visit them soon" she nods at that.

"Could come with me if you'd like... if you're not busy of course" he suggests and she nods.

"I'd love that" she doesn't think that it's perhaps too early for them, that it would be hard to explain to his brother what they were when they were asked, she didn't even think that she'd likely have to come up with an excuse as to why she wasn't available. She just agreed.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah" he smiles down at her, liking her answer.

"Besides" she says, tugging him forward slightly until their lips graze "you with kids? Hot." she admits making him smirk.

"Oh really?" he says with a raised eyebrow.

"Very" she says before pulling him the rest of the way, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Meanwhile in the studio, Matty is tidying up the space, putting things back into their original places. But when he goes to walk across the room, his foot hits something, kicking it slightly further across the floor. His eyes flick down, spotting the black notebook in which he's seen her scribble in a fair amount now. He leans down, grabbing the book and raising it up, but something slips from between the pages, landing folded at the tip of his boots.

He should've picked it up carefully, and gently placed it back in-between the pages. But Matty was just a man, a curious one who often did things against his better judgement. Things he knew would likely cause him more trouble than they’re worth.

But not this, not when he unfolds the paper, and reads the first line and knows this is definitely worth it. It’s a song scribbled out onto the page, the ink spills across the paper, the words almost completely linked, as if it was pouring out from her and she couldn't stop it. The title is directly in the middle, written untidily at the top of the page.

“Take Me Higher” it reads. A complete contrast to all the other writing of hers he’d ever seen.

Let our passions ignite, bodies tangled in the night

Don't lie, don't deny, I set your souls alight

"Souls" he murmurs to himself, hearing George mutter a "hmm?" To which he quickly rushes out a "nothing don't worry" before he continues reading.

You're the fire, dark desire, come on now, feed the fire

Heat rising, bodies colliding, dripping sweat, tastes like sex

Rhythm pounding, hearts racing, together we're finding what's next

Matty feels his heartrate pick up, his chest constricts just slightly, the air expelled from his lungs in a sharp exhale, one which comes out shaky and broken. He reads over the last two lines of the verse “heat rising, bodies colliding, dripping sweat tastes like sex”. Images flash through his brain, all of her in compromising positions, her beautiful body lathered in sweat, glistening under the dark light of his room. He feels his body heat, cheeks flushing as his eyes darken. “Rhythm pounding, hearts racing, together we’re finding what’s next” he reads the line again, mind plagued with thoughts he shouldn’t be having. Like her lips wrapped around him, or pressed against his own, or him, in between her thighs, driving into her until all he knew was her name and all she knew was his.

Her back is the one pressed against the concrete now, thighs spread, one leg hitched up, resting against his hip as his lips move quickly against hers, tongues fighting, saliva mixing until they don't know where one begins and where the other ends. She feels slightly exposed, the skirt she’s wearing hitching upwards the longer she holds her thigh up over his hip. The cool air meets her clothed core, her panties visibly soaked. Resisting him this long had been a difficult feat, but this, right now, was harder than any of those days combined. This is reckless though, she had been trying her hardest to hide this, but all it would take is for one of the others to come out and they'd be caught. Maybe it added to the thrill of it? Maybe it would be easier if they were caught?

Her back arches as he pushes forward more, she feels him against her core, hard and desperate. He pulls away when he realises what he’s done, not wanting to push her too far. But with a sigh she grabs his shoulder, hand drifting down his chest, down across his stomach, beginning to dip down until he’s breathless, curving back up at the last minute, landing on his hip.

“Tease” he mumbles against her lips making her chuckle against his mouth.

“I'll show you a tease” she murmurs, teeth closing around his bottom lip and taking it with her as she pulls away a little, the hand against his hip pulls slightly, until his clothed member collides with her clothed core. She releases his lip from the attack of her teeth, letting it snap back to place before he pushes them back to hers, tongue pressing eagerly against hers. He grunts into her mouth, one large hand finding her thigh, his palm squeezes the flesh and her skirt slips slightly, revealing more skin to him. He rolls his hips forward experimentally.

“Fuck” they say in unison. This was the furthest they had gone, it wasn't much, but my oh my it was euphoric.

Matty reads the words “touches” what seems like a thousand times, plural. His mind spirals at that, what was this about? Who was this about? He looks around the room, George sat with a pair of headphones on and of course Jamie is nowhere to be seen. Surprise surprise he thinks. He slides from the room then, escaping to the bathroom. He perches on the lid of the toilet, hand placed on his thigh, nails digging in when he reads the next words.

Now we're touching the sky

We are ready to fly

Take me higher, we'll soar and defy

I got the feeling that we're gonna -

He feels his blood rush south, imagining the way she’d sing this, voice breathy and high pitched, hitched in her throat as if she was about to… he imagines her again, sweaty body sprawled out on his bed, thrashing about amongst his bed sheets, back arching off his bed. She’d moan, a breathless sound, something akin to his name. His cock twitches under his jeans and his hand finds his hair, tugging harshly, other hand gripping the piece of paper so harshly it crinkles. He tries his hardest to resist the urge to please himself… tries.

“Fuck” he says, what would it feel like if she tugged his hair? That image of her arching her back flashes through his mind again. Only this time he’s hovering above her. His hand moves back down from his hair, he shouldn’t - he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help himself. His palm finds his aching member, pressing flat against the hardness, eyes fluttering shut as he imagines driving into her. The way she’d sigh, the way she’d moan his name, begging for more.

Hit that level, strum that bass, flick that switch

Let's get sinful, baby, let me be your demon's itch

Craving your touches until we unleash hot rock and roll

“Ross” she says, hands moving from his back to his bun, tugging at the hair until he growls into her mouth. Well he definitely liked that, she thinks. His hips move against hers, rolling forward, hitting her clit with every rotation.

He pulls back for a breather, eyes snapping south, accompanied by hers. He watches as he rolls his hips forward again. He sees his member bulging and straining against his jeans. Her eyes snap to the same thing he’s looking at, although it affects her much more. She caused that. Her, the one who had been shaky all day, messing up things that were supposed to be second nature to her. She did that to him, the man she had idolised since a teenager, loving the way his quiet nature fascinated her, the way his passion for music shone without him having to thrust it into people’s faces.

The man who belonged to her favourite band, the man who she had grown close to, the man she had begun to picture a life with, before hers had really begun.

She also can't help but notice how well endowed he was. She’s not surprised, the sight only confirming her suspicions, but it has one too many dirty thoughts bedevilling her mind, like how he’d feel inside her, how he’d likely reach places inside her that no one had ventured to before. She knew then, that she'd let him, and only him, paint those places with his cum.

He hears her moan his name again and his eyes snap to find hers again. Mouth falling open as he grunts, seeing her like this - back arching, chest pushed against his and she moans, eyes dark like the night - made him crazy.

He leans forward, lips finding her neck, kissing up to her ear, sucking the flesh behind her lobe.

“Let me please you” he demands into her ear.

“You are” she says, pulling him back from her neck, not wanting him to leave a mark. He shakes his head as he looks at her.

“That's not what I mean,” he says, lips pressed against the skin that's exposed at her chest, wandering downwards, over her covered skin, drifting south.

“Oh fuck” she says, realising what he means. He's on his knees then, lips pressing against her skin, moving to the left until they’re grazing her inner thigh. Her head falls back against the wall as her hands weave their way through his hair, goosebumps rising across her flesh.

We'll ride on passion's wave and lose all control

In your eyes, I discover lust burning inside

Matty’s hand dips below the waistband of his jeans and underwear, rolling his palm against his cock.

“Fuck” he grunts, he hunches slightly, slipping down the toilet a little. When his head snaps backwards it lands against the china, it digs into his head but he truly doesn't care. Nothing could get her off his mind, the lyrics she had written plaguing his mind with dirty, filthy, devilish thoughts. He imagines the way her small hand would wrap around his cock, he copies the movements, hand finding himself aching and hard, his fist encloses around himself. Her hand would be softer. He'd still be warm in her hand just like he is his own, but he knows it would be better, because it was her. He gives himself an experimental stroke as his eyes snap open, finding her words and reading them again.

“Fucking hell” he says as his eyes scan over the page, his hand moves slowly, up and down, up and down. His eyes mirror the movement of his hand, but quicker, trying to decide which line to reread, which line is his favourite, which line would make him…

He moans, thumb running over the head of his cock, spreading the precum that's seeping from him down his shaft. His eyes land on a particular line again, and he mumbles it out loud, wanting to hear how it would sound, not in his head.

"In your eyes, I discover lust burning inside" he reads out loud, doing his best to keep quiet. But then a moan is tearing from his throat and his hips are snapping up, thrusting into his own hand.

Explode like dynamite, carnal desire can't be denied

In this darkness, we'll do what we want, our secrets we won't hide

"Ross wait" she says, fingers finding his chin, tugging lightly at him sending him backwards, feeling the way his hair scratched her fingertips, making her think of heavenly it would feel in-between her thighs.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks with a rogue kiss to her inner thigh, tongue peeking out just so before he pulls away with a smirk. Her dark orbs find his: reflections of each other. She shakes her head with her mouth agape, the way he smirks has her core fluttering and her pulling her lip between her teeth.

He stands, fingertips pulling back her lip "don't bite that lip" he warns.

"Why? Wanna do it for me?" He grunts, pushing his mouth to hers, nibbling her lips before his tongue finds hers, fighting with each other, his winning in the end.

"Do you want this?" He asks against her mouth, his voice is soft, letting her know that it truly was okay to stop, if she wanted. His hand finds her core as he poses the question, stroking against the wet fabric of her underwear, making her sigh against his mouth.

"I want this… just not here" she allows him to weave his hand through hers, dragging her body with his willingly, giggles and laughter falling from them easily as they practically run back up the stairs. Her palm finds his mouth when they are near the top, silencing the laughter coming from him. His hand finds her waist, tugging her towards him, spinning them at the last instant until he's pressing her against the wall, trapping her against it with his lips. She moans into his mouth, her body working on its own accord, arching her back until her chest is flush against his. It was reckless, all it took for them to get caught was Jamie to come back from wherever he had disappeared to or for Matty or George to round the corner and see them in their current position. Which was getting more compromising with every second, because now, Ross is pushing his leg forward, her thighs separating and making way for the limb. She holds back the moan that attempts to tear from her throat when she feels the muscular flesh press against her in a way so heavenly her eyes flutter and the moan slips from her mouth into his.

“As much as I love those pretty little noises, you've got to be quiet” he says against her mouth. She gently shoves his shoulder, intertwining their hands again and pulling him further along the studio corridor, opening the first door she finds. The room is small, cold and dark, various cables and different pieces of equipment are placed on shelves which line the walls. She tugs him in the dark room and he quietly closes the door behind them, spinning them again until her back is pressed against the dark wood.

His lips bruise themselves against her neck as her hands weave into his hair again, and she doesn’t stop herself from tugging at his hair time, she wants to know his reaction. And she's so glad she does, because when she tugs the strands, it sends him a little further away from her neck, he growls as he pushes forward again. That singular noise accompanied by a subtle bite of her neck has her raising her leg again, hooking it over his hip and behind him, her heel landing on his behind and pushing against it, loving the way he grunts again, one hand sprawling out to catch himself against the door. It forces his clothed member to rub against hers again and she loves how he isn't hesitant when he rolls his hips forward once more. The seam of his jeans rubs against her clit over her panties and she can't help but moan into his mouth, a little bit louder than before.

His hand finds her thigh, pushing against the fabric that sits bunched there, pushing it further up until it rests against her hips, revealing herself to him. And what a sight, it has him salivating, panting, needing her - desperately needing her. But this wasn't about him, no this was about her. And god when he sees that little wet patch seeping through the fabric of her panties he so desperately wants to taste her.

His lips find her ear at the same time his hand moves down to her centre, pausing at her inner thigh until he speaks “let me please you love, will you let me do that?” he murmurs into her ear, taking it into his mouth after he utters the sentence. She nods vigorously, his hand begins moving and she wishes he’d stop staring at her like that for she knew if he continued she wouldn't last long.

Her eyes fall down to his hand as it moves again, he watches too, slowly inching closer to where she needs him. She didn't want to miss a single second of this. His hand drifts across her thighs, upwards grazing against her core before he jumps over it with a smirk. Purposefully missing it and landing on her lower stomach. His large hand lays flat against her abdomen, practically covering the whole of it, slipping under the hem of her top. Two fingers find the little piece of jewellery attached to her belly button, ghosting over the metal before it disappears again, inching south, back to where she needs him.

"You're such a tease" she says, making him look at her once more. He watches the way she bites her lip again and the way her eyes have darkened with lust for him.

"You're so beautiful" he says as his hand moves down again, fingers hooking under the top of her underwear and her breath hitches again. Two fingers toy with her folds making her sigh, pulling him forward until their mouths graze again. They don't kiss though, she simply pants into his open mouth as his fingers tease her, playing with her, searching her face, watching the pleasure appear.

"So wet for me" she swallows his words with her lips as he easily finds her clit, beginning to rub slow torturous circles against the bundle of nerves. Her back arches, her tits smearing against his chest.

"Fuck Ross" he pulls away after she says it, mouth hanging open as his fingers still.

"Why'd you stop?" She says but then he's slowly inching a finger inside her, making her sigh, the loud moans she's been trying to suppress getting harder and harder to do so.

"I've been waiting to hear you like this for so long" he groans as he kisses her again. His moans fall into her mouth and she moans back, knowing he'd swallow it. His finger slips from inside with a whiny protest from her, but she immediately shuts up when he begins tugging the lace down. She watches the way he pockets the fabric with a smirk, she mirrors his expression, her tongue peeking out of her mouth and swiping against his bottom lip.

He looks down at her again, without the barrier and he moans her name, pulling back completely away from her, her thigh nearly falling from his hip. His hands weave into his hair as he stares at her, eyes raking down her form, not knowing what to land on.

“I knew you’d be perfect but jesus christ Y/n…” his words trail off but they're everything, the best collection of words she thinks she’s ever heard. Suddenly the words, I and knew and you and be and perfect and especially Y/n are her favourite sounds. And the way they fall effortlessly from his lips: they’re perfection. He is perfection.

“Don’t make me wait any longer” he’s back in between her legs in a split second then, holding her thigh against his hip harshly.

He mumbles a “keep that there, pretty girl” before he lets go of the flesh. Pretty girl. They were her favourite words now, definitely.

His finger moves back down, faster than ever before, he slides one in, just one, feeling the way she convulses around it. He swears at the feeling, eyes trained on the way she takes it, so perfectly. She sighs and it's his favourite sound. He thinks he should record the noise, hide it in tracks for the world to hear, without the slightest inclination of how lucky they are. He pulls back his finger before pushing back in and curving and oh my it's heavenly.

"Ross" she moans again, gripping his shoulder harshly "more" her eyes find his and his hips move forward on their own. His body fails with a singular sigh of his name, the man never hearing it sound so perfect. Another finger joins the other, working in tandem.

His eyes fall down to see his fingers working inside her, curving slightly and snapping up to see her reaction. Nothing could've prepared him for it, a clench of her hand on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut before immediately snapping open, eyes bearing into his, glassy and glistening. Her back arches again and a pretty sigh of his name falls from her lips again.

But what really gets him, what causes him to twitch in his jeans, his eyes to darken impossibly more and him feeling the hardest he had ever been in his life, was the way she clenches around his fingers.

"Look at you…" he murmurs, eyes unwavering from her cunt now. "So fucking pretty, clenching around my fingers like that" her eyes fall to see what he's talking about, and she can't deny… it's hot. The way his thick fingers move in and out of her, the way her cunt looks wrapped around them and the sounds… the sounds might just be his favourite, that and the way she moans his name.

“Is this good for you?” he asks with a smirk, knowing the answer anyway. It's cocky, but it's hot. Really fucking hot. All she can manage is a quick nod, her mouth falling open and a moan beginning to slip. He quickly catches it with his mouth, not wanting to be heard by anyone else.

“Rhythm pounding, hearts racing, together we're finding what's next” Matty reads those words again, and he’s unsure whether it is his imagination or whether he actually hears her moans, but he swears he hears them. His hand halts on his cock, and he steadies his breathing, focusing his attention on listening. It rings out again, barely there and oh so quiet but it’s something. His hips fail him again, rising on their own accord until his thrusting into his hand, once and then once more before he wills himself to stop again.

And to focus… to listen.

Ross’s fingers curve again as his thumb finds her clit, applying euphoric figures of eight against the bundle of nerves. His pace accelerates and she really tries to hide the moans, hide her pleasure, but she fails… Miserably. Her back arches again and he fails to cover her mouth with his this time. He thinks the noise she lets out is beautiful, his new-found favourite melody, but he knew if they got caught they’d be screwed. And so his unoccupied hand snaps to her mouth. She giggles against it, a moan tearing from her half way through, muffled by his mouth.

“Shhhh” he says, laughing because she laughs. “You’ve got to be quiet love… we don't want to get caught” despite his words his movements don't falter. His hand loosens from her mouth, allowing her to reply. But it comes out high pitched, a mumble through her teeth, trying her hardest to remain quiet.

“Stop being so good at this and maybe I’ll be able to” she says, eyes fluttering as her voice hitches again. Her words inflate his ego and he smears his mouth to hers, meeting her tongue with such an unfathomable force that her head clatters against the wood. He mumbles a “sorry” into her mouth but she doesn’t seem to care, clenching around his fingers again as her tongue fights against him.

Matty sits in the bathroom next to them, hearing little noises here and there, not able to stop his imagination from running wild, allowing his hand to set an unforgiving pace against his cock. He muffles his own moans with his fist, biting into the knuckles to silence himself. He knew this was wrong, getting off to her noises well aware that it was his best friend drawing those pretty noises from her. He feels conflicted when he doesn't feel jealous… it just turns him on further. Making his hips stutter upwards, pistoning up into his hand.

“Fuck” he moans. He wonders what it would be like to be there with them, he swears he'd deal with just being able to watch, if they’d let him. He wonders if Ross would let him touch her too, if he’d allow him to join in. He thinks… he would. If it's what she wanted.

His pace quickens, the sound of skin colliding against his hardness filling the room. The paper has been discarded to the side, still in his line of vision and when he manages to keep his eyes open, they never leave it. He lowers his fist away from his hand for a second, opening his mouth and letting his spit fall, coating his cock just like he'd imagine she would. The sounds are wetter now and it feels better, so much better.

It feels like she'd feel, wet around him, clenching him, ready to milk him for all his worth. He tightens his grip, hoping she'd be just as tight.

“I want to taste you” Ross murmurs into her mouth, catching the oncoming moans with his own again. He wants to taste her, she loves that. “I need to taste you” he repeats. She loves that even more. She pulls away, lip tucked in between her teeth as she stares at him.

“Want that?” she nods, vigorously.

“You’ve got to stay quiet darling” he says and she nods again.

“I will” she won't.

Her head falls slack against the door with a thump as he drifts down to his knees, he looks up at her through his eyelashes and if that didn’t do it for her there would be something seriously wrong with her.

“Careful sweetheart” sweetheart, she sighs. She giggles a school girlish noise that slips from her lips before she has the chance to stop it when she sees him smirk again. She was never one for pet names, but when they came from his mouth, she loved them. She was obsessed with them, never wanting him to say her name again, only sweetheart and darling and pretty girl.

He fucks up into his hand, continuing to bite into the flesh, although it doesn't silence his grunts as much as he wants it too. He grunts when hears a thud against the wall next to him. What were they up to? He didn't know. But he could imagine. And by god did he imagine.

He settles himself in between her thighs, one hand gripping the back of her calf, drifting up and down once as his eyes land on hers again, wanting to check once more that this was what she wanted. With a singular nod his tongue meets her skin, separating her folds, causing her back to arch again. Her hand snaps to her mouth, covering it completely, the moans falling freely into her palm, dulled out as she bites into the flesh.

Her other hand falls into his hair and she smiles against her palm as his hand finds hers, manoeuvring it until his hair band is out and she can tug against the free strands. His fingers cover hers and he tenses them together, silently letting her know she could do what she wants.

So she does, tugging harshly and likely hurting him when his tongue swipes through her folds again. He moans into her and she moans into her hand. His beard scratches against her skin, a new feeling to her, but she likes it. The dull pain mixed with intense pleasure is a blissfully heady mixture that she’d never experienced before, her previous partners being subpar in comparison to him.

He pulls back briefly to mutter a “taste so good love” before he dives back in, swiping through her folds and collecting her juices just to quench his thirst before he focuses on really giving her the pleasure she deserves.

He finds her clit again, sucking the bud and making her clench around his head. He couldn’t wait to do this without her hand swallowing her moans, to really hear her, hear the noises he was easily pulling from her.

“Oh fuck that’s good” she says, hand slipping from her mouth momentarily before its back there again. He can do better, he knows it and she does too when he smirks up at her, fingers finding her puckered hole again. Two easily thrust in and he loves the way she instantly flutters around them, the pace he sets is unforgiving and it's not long until she’s on the edge.

She pulls away slightly when he sucks at her clit again, tongue swiping through her folds in the next moment. His fingers leave her to grip her hips, holding him to his mouth but she doesn't care, because it's not long until they’re pushing back in. He has her reaching a high she knows she's never reached before. Safe to say he’s ruined her for anyone else, not that was even an option now. She had him now and was never, ever letting him go.

His fingers curve, finding her g-spot and the way he caresses it, it has her shaking beneath him. The way his tongue moves against her is possessive and when she feels his tongue moving, in a very particular way that sure feels like his name, her eyes fall to him.

He's already looking up at her, and her hand falls from her mouth but it still hangs open. She’s his, he’s marking her from within, she’d feel him for days, she was convinced of it and the thought was a welcomed one.

Her mouth falls open and no noise comes from her but she spasms and shakes as his fingers pull from her before pushing back in and curving and hitting her g spot again and again, over and over.

“Fuck ross” she says, although her words are barely formed and end up sounding much more like nonsense. Her fingertips envelope his chin, thumb smoothing over his beard, coated in her wetness. It's a sinful sight, one which a cold shower or two would definitely not fix. Her mouth falls open further and her back arches again. His fingers hook one last time, mouth completely closing round her clit and she breaks. She shakes and he sees her through it, fingers held inside her, caressing the bundle of nerves within her, as he kitten licks at her clit, finally pushing fully against the whole of her as she cums.

“Ross” she moans, a quiet murmur of his name that might be his favourite yet. Accompanied by a shake of her body and the closing of her thighs.

Her hand is still holding his chin gently and when the sensation becomes too much she lightly tugs against it. He obeys, pulling from her and licking his lips clean. She watches as he brings his fingers to his mouth too, cleaning them off with a smirk. Her hand grips his chin. It's her new favourite site.

“You’re good at that” her head falls against the door and she sighs, smiling to herself “really fucking good” her hand slips from his chin. He chuckles at her, standing from her thighs, hand enclosing around her waist. He wanted to kiss her but wasn’t sure she’d like that. But then she's pulling him to her, lips finding his, tongue finding his. He tastes like her and she moans, it's erotic but he loves it.

Her fingertips find his chin again as she pulls back, looking at his beard which was still slightly glistening with her, she chuckles at the site.

“Made a bit of a mess” she laughs and he smiles.

“Good” he murmurs, pressing his lips to hers again, a brief kiss.

“Never gotten head from a guy with a beard before” she admits and he raises his eyebrows.

“Don't want to hear about your ex-boyfriends after I just made you come” he says and it has her raising her eyebrows too.

“Guess I won't tell you how shockingly bad they were in comparison then” she says, turning her head slightly, his lips find her jaw, pressing against it as he mumbles a “oh no… that I want to hear… tell me more”

His hips thrust into his hand once, twice more, before they're sputtering upwards. His cock twitches in his hand, ropes of cum hitting his stomach, he groans a loud, drawn out noise into his bawled up fist.

"Oh fuck…." He can't help but think how she'd take it if she was here, would she let him coat her chest? Would she beg for him to cum down her throat? He shakes the thoughts away, guilty grabbing handfuls of tissue and wiping himself clean.

"For God sake' he says, hastily removing the obscene amount of come from his stomach. He tucks himself back into his trousers, zipping them up, lifting the lid if the toilet and flushing the tissues. He washes his hands and takes in his reflection.

He shakes his head at himself "fuck off" he murmurs, talking to himself.

He shakes a hand through his hair, and splashes his face with water before he leaves the room, taking the paper, folding it up and placing it in his pocket. He sends a text to George explaining that he wasn't feeling too well and heads home.

Her hand drifts down his chest, but he encloses it before she gets the chance to touch him. Her eyes find his and she furrows her eyebrows.

"Your turn" she says and he smiles but shakes his head, placing a simple peck to her lips.

"That's not why I did that love… I wanted to please you" he explains.

"And you did, you really did" she smirks "now I want to return the favour" he pecks her mouth again after that.

"Another time I promise… we should get back" he says and she frowns. Did he not want her?

"Trust me love… I want to, I want you so badly, but if we're gone another minute I fear our little secret won't be so secretive anymore" he says, silencing her mind as if he could read it.

"Okay" she says and smiles at him. His fingertips envelope her chin lightly, bringing her lips to his for a sweet kiss, one which disabled her momentarily.

"Trust me love… I promise we will have another chance… I'd quite like to get between those pretty little thighs of yours again" he says, his voice dropping an octave. It makes her blush deeply.

"Okay" she says coyly, smiling a dopey smile up at him.

"Let's get back, yeah?" She nods at his words leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. He smiles into it and suddenly everything feels different between them but at the same time it's as if nothing has changed at all.

George is somehow none the wiser when they return to the studio, too buried in work to realise how much time had passed. She asks where Matty is and George shrugs explaining that he left a while ago but he wasn't sure where he went. George lifts his phone and sees the message his curly haired friend sent reading it aloud to the pair.

"Hope he's okay" Ross says and George nods, placing his phone down again.

"It's getting late, you should probably head home soon too" George says and both Ross and y/n nod.

"And you?" Yn asks and George smiles.

"I just want to finish this up and then I'll head… you guys go" George says with a smile. Yn smiles back and leans down to hug him and Ross' hand clasps around his before they're leaving.

It's dark outside the dark and a chill runs through her body but it's not long before Ross is wrapping an arm around her frame, warming her instantly.

"I'll walk you home if you like" the air around them feels different now, it's somehow both more comfortable and more exciting. She wants nothing more than to let him walk her home, invite him up to her room and let the night unfold. But Matty is on the forefront of her mind now and she's worried.

"I'd love that…" she hesitates and Ross frowns slightly at her, reading her facial expressions and somehow decoding what she's thinking. She half expects him to sigh, for him to step away from her frame, but her heart swells when he pulls her in tighter. She’s surprised once more at how he seemed to be able to read her mind.

"You want to check on Matty…" his voice trails off and she nods, unsure on what his reaction would be.

"Is that okay?" She asks, one hand gently holding his face. She feels the way his cheeks shift, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips until the crinkles that she loves form. He nods at her. He knows now that on some level, she was his, and he'd do anything to keep her.

"Yeah love, text me when you're home though yeah?" She nods. She watches as an idea seems to pop into his mind, his face lighting up and his smile spreading.

"We have a day off tomorrow…." we have the day off tomorrow, she liked the sound of that. In fact she loved it. They were a we now, or at least in some way.

"We do…." She smiles and he smiles back, just as wide.

"Let me take you on a date" he says.

"Hmm… what's in it for me?" She jokes.

"Oh absolutely nothing… I'm not worth the trouble really" he jokes back, stepping away from her briefly, as if to walk away. She’s quick to grab his arb and pull him back.

"Hey hey hey, where do you think you're going?" She asks, making him chuckle a short laugh.

"Yes I'd love to go on a date with you" she says through a giggle.

"We'll go on a date then…" he says.

"Good"

"Good" he confirms it with a brief kiss before pulling away, she watches as he scrunches his nose up, eyes crinkling at the edges as he does and his lips pursing.

"It's a date then squish" he says and she lightly shoves him, but before he goes too far both hands wrap around her small wrists and he tugs gently. She crashes into his hard chest with a little "oomph" and he looks down at her with a smirk and all thoughts and ideas of scolding him for it disappear.

"I'll make it worth your while" he says, his voice low, it makes her shiver. She blushes, her mouth opens and closes, at a loss for words. He chuckles, the kind of one that's just an exhale through his nostrils and his grip loosens around her wrists.

"Go check on Matthew, text me when you get home and I'll see you tomorrow, 10 work for you?" He asks and she nods.

"Sounds perfect" she watches as he looks both ways down the street and then back over his shoulder and up to the studio, before he turns back to her. No one was around, the street dark and empty. So he leans down and captures her lips in his, in a kiss that completely blows her mind. His soft ones against hers, tongue folding over hers, blissful sighs falling from her and soft groans from him. In those few moments, all that exists is him and them, the world slowing around them like something out of a romance novel.

He pulls back and all she can do is nod and she chases his lips with hers. It makes him laugh and she slowly opens her eyes to see him again.

"Wow… that was some kiss"

"You should go… see if Healy is okay" Ross says and she nods, leaning up for one last kiss.

'Dream about me' he says against her mouth, their lips momentarily separated and she nods before his move against hers again.

"As long as you dream about me…" she says, pulling back until their lips just graze.

"I have every day since I met you"

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @promocodesorry75 @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx @k4tie75 @insidemymind19 @zzzhealy @maybeiwouldlikeyou @at-her-very-foreign @not-alien-girl-v @sinarainbows @friedlandblog @momentum2023 @youlooklikeshitandyousmellabit @Inhalerbea (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊, those with a line through are the ones i couldn’t tag)

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

Text

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. Also, I’m not nice to Buggy when he tries to flirt. I definitely write him as a bit of a disaster when it happens. It’s just going to get a bit worse from here. This chapter is just kind of fluffy but also Buggy is kind of young and anxious and has a bit of an attack but Sunny gives him love. Bath time chat as well. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 11

“If you’re hanging out here today, I’m putting you to work.” Miss Pins told Buggy as she glared at him as he leaned back in the chair in the shop. You were working on an order for a customer, patching holes in a jacket while Buggy sat and watched you, but your boss wasn’t having any of it.

“Do I get paid?” Buggy asked. She shook her head.

“Your payment will be getting to spend time with Sunny while at the shop.” She told him. “Now, there are some things I need put away in the backroom that Benji can’t reach with a ladder, and I’ve seen some of what that Devil Fruit of yours can do, so go help him.”

And that's how Buggy (begrudgingly) became a shop worker for the day. If it meant he got to spend the day with you, then fine. He helped organize things on the top shelves, cleaned windows, and even helped paint the front exterior of the shop with Benji (while managing to get covered in paint). The only upside was you bringing him lunch once he was hot, sweaty, and covered in purple paint.

“Looks like you could use a bath.” You chuckled as you set a plate of sandwiches down for him and Benji.

“What? No.” Buggy took one of the sandwiches, shoving it into his mouth as he continued talking. “I'm fine without one.”

Benji made a face as he picked his own up. “You sure?”

“What’s the damn point? I'm just going to get dirty again.” Buggy told him as he ate. You shook your head and went inside to grab them both something to drink. “Besides, life on a ship doesn't allow for such a thing.”

“You're on land now.” Benji pointed out. “And you stink.” He pinched his nose and stuck his tongue out at him.

“Yea? Well, that's because I'm a man and you're just a kid!” Buggy shot back. “I smell manly, got it? You just can't handle it.”

“No, he's right.” You said as you came back out with their drinks. “You do stink, Buggy. You need a bath.”

His jaw dropped at what you said. Did you really think so? He wondered if you were teasing him because you sat down and kissed his cheek.

“One bath on land won't kill you.” You told him, smiling. “And getting caught in the rain doesn't count as one, okay?”

And he really did love you because he was nodding in agreement with whatever you told him. Benji was pretty impressed that he listened to you and was convinced you had magic powers for a moment, because at the end of the work day, you had Buggy in the bathroom and in the tub, washing his hair for him like you would a stray dog.

“Don't you trust me to do it myself?” He asked as you ran your fingers through his hair, making sure the shampoo was able to reach his scalp.

“Of course I do.” You told him as you tugged on a lock of hair gently. “But why would I miss the chance to play with your beautiful hair?”

He turned red and covered his face with his hands when you said that. Why did he have to blush every time you said things like that to him? You said nothing after that, just humming softly as you made sure his hair was fully lathered before using a cup to pour over his head, rinsing the shampoo out. It took a few minutes, but once it was done you grabbed a towel and began drying his hair.

“Buggy, can I braid your hair?”

“What? Why?” He asked as he turned to look at you. You twirled a lock of his hair around your finger with a shrug.

“Keeps it out of your face while you wash up.” You replied innocently. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you before nodding, wondering what was going on in your mind. Honestly, you just wanted to braid it because you thought it would look nice in a crown braid on top of his head. You got up to grab a comb and some hairpins, humming once more before returning to your spot outside the tub. He turned around to look at you with a frown.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked. “Why are you… so nice all the time to me?”

You looked at him curiously, frowning a bit before you shrugged. “I don’t see a reason not to be nice, Buggy.”

“Yea, but-”

“I only thought you were an asshole once, Buggy, and you apologized to me for it. Other than that you’ve always been nice to me.” You leaned in towards him and he leaned back just a bit. “I think you’re sweet for a scary pirate captain.”

Buggy’s face turned red as he glared at you. “Are you making fun of me?”

“What? No.” You smiled and put your hand behind his head, pulling him back to you for a kiss. He tensed up, turning redder, and when you pulled back you weren’t sure you’d seen him turn that shade of red before. “You okay?”

“Y-Yea.” He looked away from you. “I’ll finish up. Uh, you probably have things to do.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded, kissing his cheek before getting up. “Come find me when you’re done, Buggy.”

Buggy found you in the kitchen a little while later as you started on dinner. He stood and watched you for a moment, scratching his chin, wondering if you really would marry him if he asked. Would you want to live on a ship for months at a time with him? Would you be happy with him? Why would you even think of leaving this life to join him on a ship? His mind was starting to race as he started wondering why you would even consider being with him, and he almost started to panic just a bit.

“What’s on your mind, Buggy?” You asked, not turning around and interrupting his thoughts. “I heard you walk up.”

He hesitated but walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you carefully, letting his head rest against yours. You touched his arm softly, stirring the pot of stew with one arm carefully making sure not to spill the contents.

“Would you really marry me?” He mumbled against you, refusing to move as he tightened his hold. You stopped what you were doing and pushed him away from the stove before turning to look at him.

“Do you not want to suddenly?” You asked with a frown.

“I-I do! I just… wanted to know if you really want to!” He said. “Or are you just saying that to be nice?!”

You sighed softly and put your hands on his shoulders. “Buggy, honey, I do. I am not saying it to be nice, I'm saying it because I want to marry you eventually. I want to wait until I'm finished with my apprenticeship, okay? And after that you can propose however you want, but I want to marry you.”

“Really?” He asked. You leaned in and kissed him, catching him off guard for a moment, and when he tried to hold onto it for a second longer, you pulled back and patted his cheek softly.

“Yes, really.” You insisted. “Remember, if I didn't like you, I wouldn't be this nice to you, Buggy. Feeding you, sharing my bed, all that kind of stuff. I do it because I care about you.”

“You really want to live on a pirate ship?” Buggy frowned. You shrugged and smiled at him.

“I wouldn't mind. Besides, my mom was a pirate and she used to say she could see me ending up on a ship one day like her.” You told him as you kissed him again.

“Wait, what?” He jerked away and looked at you, confused by what you just said. “Your mom was a pirate? You never said your parents were pirates!”

“My parents weren't, just my mom.” You chuckled as you smiled at him. “She was a member of the Cook Pirates under Captain Red Leg Zeff.”

“What?!”

“I guess we got a lot to learn about one another, Buggy.” You said as you turned back to the stew you were making. “But I like that we have the time to do so.” You looked back at him. He looked like he was still processing what you told him. “You okay?”

“Your mom was a pirate?” He asked. “Really?”

“Yea, for a few years.” You shrugged. “Met my dad on a merchant ship they were raiding and fell in love. Decided to stop being a pirate and married my dad.”

Buggy stared at you for a moment, his mind still processing what you said. Your mom was a pirate but wasn’t anymore? Did… did he need to stop being a pirate to marry you, like your mom chose to do? He didn’t want to stop, but he loved you. Was this a choice he was going to have to make? His mind was starting to race; you looked back over at him, saw he was becoming distressed, and walked over to him.

“Hey, stop thinking for two seconds and sit down, Buggy.” You told him as you led him over to the table.

“I don’t…. I can’t give up the sea!” He blurted out.

“What? I wouldn’t ask you to do that!” You told him, looking surprised. “Why would you think you had to?”

“Your mom-”

“Yea, she chose to because it was what she wanted to do.” You told him as you made him sit down. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that, Buggy.”

He looked up at you, uncertainty in his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed, letting him wrap his arms around you. What was going on, why was he suddenly so panicked?

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” You asked softly. “You still will be a pirate if you marry me, Buggy. I wouldn’t ask you to ever give it up and no one should.”

“I can’t give up being a pirate.” He muttered as he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. While you were touched that he was this comfortable around you to drop his guard like this, you were a little surprised how anxious he could become over small things.

“You aren’t going to.” You assured him as you stroked his hair softly. “I promise. I want you to become the most feared pirate, Buggy, and I won’t let anything stand in your way, okay?”

He just nodded, refusing to look at you as you held him. This was such a contrast from when you first met him, when he demanded services after storming into the shop. Now he was sitting in your kitchen, letting you hug him after thinking he would have to give up his piratey lifestyle for you.

“Are you okay, honey?” You asked. He could only nod. “Okay. I need to finish dinner. You can hold my hand if you want.”

“I’d like that.” He mumbled as you pulled away, his hand slipping into yours and popping off his wrist as you returned to the stove. Buggy stayed at the table, watching as you worked. You were adding a few spices into the stew before checking the flavor. Once you seemed satisfied, you took Buggy’s hand and put it on your shoulder while you set the table. He watched you, wondering now what you thought of him. He felt pathetic, getting worked up over nothing, but you were there for him, comforting him, which made him feel better in the end.

He was starting to think he didn’t deserve you, but you finished setting the table and reached over to brush his hair out of his face, tucking a lock behind his ear before kissing him on his forehead.

“Dinner’s ready.” You told him. “I can walk you back to your ship after, okay?”

He didn’t really want to leave after dinner, however.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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arteastica · 4 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (22)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.9k

Your lips were usually the first part of your body his greeted, but when his teeth took the tender skin of your neck between them instead, you knew that the look in his eyes wasn’t the only thing that had changed that night.

He sank his teeth into the soft flesh, a little below your jaw, and it didn’t hurt. The first night you were together he promised that would never happen, and being the upstanding, dependable Commander of the Survey Corps, you knew he was a man of his word. That’s why, even when your body was trembling against his, chest so tight it was hard for your lungs to expand, you trusted him. You trusted the warm breath on your neck that announced the path he was following, a path that led him to a specially sensitive patch of skin below your throat, where his lips started to suck on a little harder than they ever had. But then again, it didn’t hurt.

Not knowing if your lips were allowed to say as much, you ran your fingers through his hair, letting them tell him instead, in their gentle, silent way that you missed him.

A lot.

However, unsure if that was something he wanted to hear, and fearing he wouldn’t return the words, you settled for intertwining your fingers with his golden locks, head thrown back and eyes closed as you let his lips have his way with you. Lips that, by now, had traveled all the way down to your collarbones, slightly visible despite your closed shirt. And, when he nipped the delicate skin, a soft whimper escaped your lips.

A small, innocent sound that proved to be enough to make him want to bury his face between your breasts, which he promptly did after undoing the top buttons of your shirt in one single motion of his hand.

“Erwin.” You called out timidly, his name becoming a combination of pleasure and pain on your lips. Pain that wasn’t exactly physical.

On one hand, you were happy he was touching you again. You were glad to be someone he still wanted to kiss, to hold, to fuck maybe; even after you had told him you loved him. His lips on you, feasting on the tender, plump flesh of your breasts were enough confirmation that you still existed in his mind; that he still craved your body, just as much as your pussy, hungrily rubbing against the hard muscle of his thigh, told him you craved his.

Another part of you, however, was lost in uncertainty; constantly asking herself if it was all worth it. If this pleasure was worth the risk. The risk of ending up feeling used.

Because, the more he sank his teeth into you, the more you realized how impersonal it all felt, much like his voice had just moments ago. There was something you couldn’t explain, something about his kisses choosing your neck and breasts over your lips. There was something unsettling about not being able to see his eyes. It scared you. Not being able to find, in their gentle gaze, the reassurance you needed in such vulnerable, intimate state; with your heart threatening to break your ribcage, your shallow breaths suffocating you more than helping you, and your pussy throbbing even harder with every lap of his tongue against your skin. But then again, that’s how your body reacted whenever he was around.

That’s how it reacted whenever you had the warm palm of his hand under your shirt, a subtle way of announcing that the fabric had become an obstacle that needed to be disposed of soon; which he promptly did, tugging at the front so suddenly and so forcefully it left you wondering if you’d find yourself sewing the bottoms back later in your room. But honestly you didn’t care, not when his hand skillfully unclasped your bra, revealing how impatient your nipples were to become the next target of his attention.

But, when time passed passed and his tongue never showed, you looked down to find him undoing your pants, not even bothering to look up to give any sort of explanation as he pulled down your boots, before throwing everything together to the pile of fabric only your panties were yet to join.

Only, they never did.

They remained in their place, quietly waiting around your hips for their turn, the cotton desperately clinging to the wet skin between your legs. A place that was leaking with want, throbbing with desire, clenching in anticipation.

Silently crying for him.

So much so that, for a moment, you considered removing them yourself. But that was before he stood up and his midnight eyes met yours, making you understand that taking your panties off wasn’t an order your commander had given.

“Comman- ah-” You moaned when his arm found its way around your waist; his body, still fully, and rather unfairly clothed, pressed hard against your bare skin as he lifted you up like a doll. A doll he wanted sitting on his desk, her legs slightly parted, just enough so he could stand in between.

His eyes bore into yours, telling you his plans in a language you were yet to learn, and maybe it was the gelid blue of his stare, or the fact that your panties were the only item of clothing you had been allowed to keep, but you started to shiver. Unsheltered, forsaken, and uncertain. Like a toy that was brought out of the attic one last time, just so its owner could decide if they would keep it or give it away.

“I’m scared.” The words left your lips in a whisper. A whisper so feeble you were unsure he had even heard.

Yes, you were scared. Scared that he didn’t believe you. Scared that he thought you were seeing Leon behind his back, kissing him in secret corners, letting him touch you in the late hours while you called his name, a name that wasn’t your Commander’s. And most importantly, you were scared of what a misunderstanding of that magnitude could mean for the two of you. For your future together, assuming there was even as much as a future to be scared about.

“I can stop if this is not what you want.” He said, and this time his voice sounded a little like it had back then, that unforgettable night when the winter was just starting and you had his naked body hovering over yours, glistening with sweat as he promised he would never hurt you.

It all seemed so far away now.

You knew, however, that his promise remained the same, despite his eyes and the way they looked at you changing so abruptly. And like so, you shook your head promptly, not knowing what was going to happen but wanting to see it happen regardless.

But despite your consent, he didn’t move a finger, choosing to stare at you instead. With those hazy blue eyes, disorienting and mystifying in an enticing, calming way; like morning mist hovering over the mountain lake on a chilly autumn day. And you got the feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you waited long enough it would clear up. Along with all the misunderstandings separating the two of you.

Because, maybe, all you needed was to stare into each other’s eyes, let them talk to each other before your lips could complicate everything with words. Because the more you stared into the blue, the more you saw, the more you understood, and the more visible the truth became.

What was hiding under the surface, below all that fog? What wasn’t he telling you? And, why he didn’t want to tell you?

You held all those questions in the trembling hand you lifted to his cheek, finding in his stillness the courage to run a gentle thumb against his skin, which was warm and comfortable, and slowly leaning against your palm. And for a moment, you thought he would close his eyes and let you hold him like you used to, not too long ago. But if there was something about the 13th Commander of the Survey Corps, something you should be familiar with after working 8 months under him, was his unpredictability. The patterns that his thoughts followed were a mystery, and that is assuming they followed a pattern at all.

Because unpredictability was in everything he did. From the way his hunter green cloak would dance in the wind as he rode his white horse across fields of green, to the way he would lead his men and their lives into uncharted territories with a single flare of his gun, or the way he turned you around in one swift motion of his arm. Big, commanding hand flat against your back, holding you down, a whimper escaping your lips the exact moment your breasts landed on the cold, hard wood of his desk, left cheek squeezed against the papers he had just been working on; which you confirmed were indeed the reports on the new horses. And, as useless as that information seemed now, it was the only thing your eyes were allowed to see from the position you now found yourself in.

You squirmed under his hand, your naked toes barely touching the floor, the delicate clinking of trembling porcelain the only thing you could hear as you tried to adjust your position in an attempt to see him. But the only thing you managed to see from the corner of your eye was the sturdy, menacing frame silently standing behind you, observing you. And you didn’t need to see his face to know where his attention was, because his eyes were burning your skin, visually devouring the flesh between your legs, where your famished hole throbbed, greedily consuming the fabric as it stuck to your wet slit.

And a minute could have passed, or a year perhaps, before you finally heard the rattle of his belt, announcing the plans he had for you. An excited shiver ran down your spine just mere seconds before you felt his warm hand between your legs, furtively pushing your panties to the side with a flick of his finger, not even bothering to pull them down before running the thick, delicious tip of his cock up and down your slit. And something about his unhurried, leisurely movements reminded you of a wolf circling its prey before going in for the kill.

It was relaxing, in a dangerous way. Comforting in the problematic sense. So comforting that pleased hums started leaving your lips every time you exhaled. His generous, hard cock and the soft, moist tip running along your slick folds, reassuring you that he was finally there at your door, as if he had just come home after the longest of missions.

You let your eyes fall shut and your mind get flooded with all the pleasant imagery. Summer, him coming home to you after a long day at work, warm dinner served on the table much like your body was now on his desk, the pantry cabinet now standing sturdy and foursquare after you asked him to fix it; glass holding the lemonade you just prepared for him, and the peach rhubarb pie waiting respectfully in the oven as your clothes dried quietly in the backyard. A lovely repetition you wished to be stuck in for the rest of your days together.

A short lived fantasy that made your lips curve into a smile, a smile that turned into an open mouth the moment he pushed his fat cock inside, all of a sudden and without warning. All the way to the hilt. And then, just as unexpectedly, he pulled out, allowing you to taste nothing but the overwhelming emptiness for a brief second before slamming back in, harder this time, making you release a pained and very audible moan that you were certain someone, at least one person, somewhere in the castle must have heard.

“Comman- ahh-” You gasped when he pulled out again before slipping back inside, his pace growing more aggressive with every thrust. “Erwin- mmmh~”

It was so different today. He seemed so eager to claim you as his, not holding back at all when it came to the rhythm of his hips, and neither were you when it came to your moans. You heard yourself making sounds that had never come out of your mouth before.

“Erwin!” You heard yourself chant his name in notes you didn’t know you were able to reach. “A-ah!”

You were practically screaming and he didn’t seem to care if someone heard you. In fact, it was as if the louder you screamed, the deeper his dick would go as a compliment. Almost as if he was announcing, with every thrust of his hips, that you belonged to him.

As if he wanted the whole castle to know what he was doing to you, the things he was making you feel.

As if he wanted everyone, including you, to know that nobody else could fuck you like this.

As if he was belligerently asking, with every violent thrust of his hips, if a metaphorical someone could make you scream like this.

And who were you to refuse answering your commander’s questions?

“I promise I’m only yours hnngh~” You moaned as his heavy balls hit your dripping folds. “But, if you feel I’m not, then make me a-ahh~!” Your fist held the report he had been working on, now nothing but a crumpled up paper; your brow locked in a tight frown as you did your best to speak through the overwhelming pleasure. “Please, Erwin, fuck me until you feel I’m yours enough.”

And you knew he was about to do just that the moment he removed the flat palm he had been pressing against your back, and placed it on your hips instead, gripping the flesh with such force it made you think he was never going to let go. And you were completely fine with that.

His thrusts grew even more animalistic as time went on, and maybe it was the spice of the cedar desk against your nose or the vanilla of the white oak burning on the other end of the room, but it all made you think of an ax chopping wood in the middle of a forest clear, splitting it in half like a broken heart, yet oddly satisfying like gliding a hot knife through fresh butter, very early in the morning. In the kitchen of some cabin. Hidden in some faraway woods.

As he pounded into you, all you saw was the kettle and the teacup, forgotten on the opposite end of the desk, and all you heard was the rattling of the porcelain, as its contents threatened to jump out of the cup, taking excited leaps every time he thrusted into you.

“Yes, yes, just like that.” You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like a flower, starved of sunlight, after the sky finally cleared up. “Erwin, I’m yours mmmhh~” Every inch of your body belonged to him, and you wanted him to know. To know that he had complete control over every single muscle of your body, down to the smallest one. Hence why they all tensed up when his grip tightened and more desperate, filthy sounds started to leave your lips in appreciation of how deep he was. “Only yours. Do you understand?”

You asked, but didn’t really expect an answer to come out of his lips. He was so silent today, and that was fine. Because you were being vocal for the two of you. You were screaming so he didn’t have to speak, moaning so he could focus all his attention in fucking you, in sliding that fulfilling, indulgent cock of his in and out of you, over and over again.

In your office, and maybe outside too, nothing else could be heard that evening, nothing but your sweet little cries and the lewd, wet sound of his dick as it entered your tight hole, repeatedly and relentlessly. So relentlessly you soon felt it building up inside, like a cork popping out of a bottle, the foam menacingly filling the glass to the brim; like milk dangerously approaching its boiling point, threatening to spill everywhere and cause a mess.

A beautiful one.

“Yes! Please, I-I’m almost there, Erwin. Please make me c-come.” You clenched tighter against his cock, your body squirming so much his hand had to return to its former position flat against your back. “I want to come for you.” Bending you over. “All over you.” Holding you down so you wouldn’t escape. “Because of you.”

Perfection. No, even that word fell short. Artistic. No, you couldn’t arrange it prettily into words. Aromatic. Yes, you could smell it. The freshly brewed ginger, the zesty lemon, and the intoxicating sweetness of the honey. An infusion you would never be able to drink again without thinking about him. Fucking you like this. On his desk. His hand folding you over. The sky all those ambiguous colors. His heavy, velvety balls slapping against your drenched pussy, his swollen cock buried all the way down to the hilt. You. Completely vulnerable, entirely owned by him. And even though his swollen cock relentlessly pounding into you reminded you of a knife stabbing an open wound, ironically, you felt safe. Safe enough to let your eyes close and your smile widen, as you prepared to come for him.

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @mchlist @apts2000 @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @lucifers-nipple-piercing

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cressthebest · 11 days

Text

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 31

chapter 50: (15 chapters left)

1. oh SHIT the girls are fighting (sirius and regulus are at each other with nails and hair pulling)

2. “It's mean. It's nails and hair-pulling and brutal in the way only siblings can be. In mere seconds, they've both made each other bleed, and they don't seem inclined to stop there.”

i think the arena allowed them to do this, but they’ve been ready to go at each other like this for AGES. cause like, i want to go at my siblings like this sometimes. and then go watch tv together after

3. 😬😶 sirius just found out reg is a death eater

4. 😬😬 it was just revealed that reg did NOT in fact kill Coen. yikes dude

5. “"You're a fucking death eater?!" Sirius snarls as he dodges Yaxley's elbow.

"Yeah, it doesn't feel good, does it?!" Regulus snarls back ……

"How is this even comparable, you little shit?!"”

😭😭😭 plsss he’s so funny

6. damn, when sirius was fighting the others, he wasn’t going full force, cause he was having an emotional conversation. but he was still winning. and then he gets tired of fighting so he just in like two swift moves kills two people. jfc he’s scary.

7. “"I was going to lose James anyway, don't you get it?! I never even really got to have him! But you—I got you back. I had you back, and you took that from me. You weren't—you promised you wouldn't do that. How could you do that, after I—I begged you not to? And for what? Me? You think you did it for me? No, you did it for you. You tossed me aside, and it's not even the first time!"”

😧😧😧 holy shit, he just went right at it

8. “Grow up, Regulus."

"You won't let me!"”

😧 jaw on the freaking GROUND

9. jfc this fight is brutal. i think it would hurt less for them to just kill the other. cause like, these words hurt even ME

10. “"What I regret most isn't that you broke your promise, Sirius," Regulus continues. "It's that I wasted time caring enough to ask for a promise from you at all."”

yoooo wtf wtf wtf this HURTS

11. “”Let me guess, you told them only you could kill me? Something like that, yeah?"”

😭😭 sirius guessed it right and reg is like ‘😳 no…. i never said that. why would i say that?’

12. reg is like “😡😡😡 I HATE YOU” and sirius is like “liar ☺️”

13. i bet the entire hallow is on the edge of their seat watching this like the highest quality entertainment. no way has anything been this juicy in the arena for AGES

14. YOO WTF REG THATS OUT OF POCKET. HE JUST THREATENED TO HURT REMUS. MY DEAR, THATS YOUR FRIEND TOO! YOU CANT DO THAT!! LITTLE BITCH!

15. god, regulus is actually about to say it and just goes after regulus. like, hardly holding back. holy shit

16. “Sirius, for the first time, doesn't believe in his brother. Because Regulus wants to say Remus' name, and that would hurt Sirius more than dying by Regulus' hand.”

god, just stab me in the heart why don’t ya?

17. 😧 dagger raised above his head, ready to strike down in reg’s chest and just can’t. and then as he’s about to kill him, regulus says he loves sirius. good god, i’m actually crying so hard rn

18. “He can see it, suddenly. It does become clear, then, all at once. Regulus did trick him. He did fool him. Just not in the way Sirius was prepared for. He never imagined this at all.

Regulus never intended to go home.”

BAWLING LIKE A BIG BABY RN

19. “"Don't, please don't do this to me. Sirius, please just—please do it, or let me do it. Don't make me live without you, please don't, Sirius—””

YOU WOULD THINK THAT THE SADDEST THING HAS ALREADY BEEN SAID, BUT NO!!! IM SOBBING HARDER!! AND I HAVE A FINAL EXAM IN HALF AN HOUR

20. “It's horrible, because the arena has brought Regulus back to him twice, once when Regulus became a Victor and right this very second, but for Regulus, all the arena does is take Sirius away.”

BAWLING LIKE A BABY

21. oh SHIT james did not leave them a note this time

22. god, it hurts knowing that sirius doesn’t trust reg with a dagger. not because sirius is scared reg will turn on him, but that reg will kill himself

23. “"It has to be you, okay? It has to, because I don't want to go home if I'm not going home with you. I—I just don't see the point."”

that freaking HURTS

24. this entire chapter hurt like a fucking BITCH

#marauders #regulus black #jegulus #sirius black #crimson rivers

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britcision · 1 year

Text

Okay WIP Wednesday! I’ve had a real fucking busy weekend painting the house and building new furniture and making some fucking HELLACIOUS overalls (pics later maybe???)

But I basically haven’t been on except my occasional cursed thought, and hopefully I’ll be around more and actually get to some messages this week 👀 maybe

In the meantime! Here is the Danny segment I considered giving you last week!

————————

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence iii

Honestly, driving in Gotham wasn’t even all that exciting from Danny’s perspective. After being tossed around the GAV despite the seatbelts, a couple of cranky fellow drivers just didn’t register.

If they hadn’t been going through the city, maybe going highway speeds it might have been different, but he’d kind of worked out how loud he had to be to be heard.

By Jason snickering when he screamed at pedestrians.

If they didn’t want to be screamed at they shouldn’t be trying to loom menacingly.

Of course, that just meant now was the perfect time for him to use his new power for evil. Danny flipped his visor up, straining as high as he could to yell to Jason.

“SO, THAT CONSTANTINE GUY?”

There was a sudden click in his ear and he jumped as Jason’s voice came through, quiet and definitely amused.

“There’s a radio in your helmet, Danny.”

Oh.

News to fucking him, he was pretty sure that wasn’t standard in motorcycle helmets, but not from any lived experience. Johnny 13’s dead experiences were a little out of date.

Poking around the sides of his helmet, Danny soon found a button.

“Sweet. Looks like you finally forgot to mention something,” he teased, and heard Jason snort loud and clear.

Didn’t have to hold the button to talk then. Good times. He’d get Tucker to take a look on the way home after he ecto infused it. For now he flipped the visor back down.

“Looks like,” Jason agreed dryly, swerving them around a cluster of traffic.

He wasn’t exactly sticking to the letter of the law, they were definitely half again over the speed limit, but they hadn’t gone on a sidewalk so it was nothing to a Fenton. There was even an empty slot in the lane he merged into.

“So what about Constantine,” he prompted, and while it broke Danny out of his musings, it also reminded him of the exact thing he’d planned to do to make the trip more interesting.

“Oh, I own his soul. Like, a dozen times over,” Danny chirped perkily, grip tightening just before Jason had to slam on the breaks to keep from hitting the car beside them.

They sped off again before the sudden swerve caused comment, and passed a block or two in silence. Then Jason sighed.

“Of fucking course you do that for everything and not just Mariokart.” He mostly sounded resigned, so Danny allowed himself a snicker.

“What, it’s not like we’re gonna die. You’re even still on the road,” he dismissed easily, waving a hand to show just how unconcerned he was.

Did not expect Jason to huff, reach back and grab his hand, and pull it back around himself.

“I’m reconsidering teaching you to drive,” he told Danny flatly, and Danny pouted but took the hint and held on.

“Oh come on, you can’t say that, you haven’t even seen me try!” Danny protested.

Jason made an unimpressed noise.

“Your town’s weather includes reports of if your parents will be on the road.”

Which, by the way, was totally unfair of him, since he’d never have known that if Danny hadn’t told him. Or Tucker hadn’t told Tim.

Same difference.

“My parents, not me,” Danny argued anyway, shrugging, “and it wasn’t their driving that killed me.”

This time he was close enough, snugged tight to Jason’s back, that he felt the guy’s whole body shiver with a loud and rumbling growl. The same growl he’d heard and soothed earlier.

Something had really riled up Jason’s pit ghost.

Danny hummed another quick soothing trill, stroking his aura gently across Jason and his extra passenger.

Sort of trying to do it unobtrusively; he would actually really prefer that they didn’t fully crash. It kinda worked, in that Jason managed to unlock suddenly solid muscles enough for them to make the next turn.

“Sorry,” Danny said quickly, kind of to both of them, “guess Pitty doesn’t like the death jokes today.”

They passed another few buildings in silence, anf Danny had definitely noticed by now that they weren’t heading for the manor. Didn’t matter so long as Jason knew where they were going.

Danny waited him out, long enough that he almost wanted to make another joke and lighten the mood. Again though, Jason broke it first.

“Pitty.” He did not sound impressed. But he didn’t feel mad. More what the fuck just came outta your mouth.

Danny gave him a quick squeeze, and almost felt the pit purr.

It was kinda getting stronger the longer they hung out. Technically that probably meant that both cores were making progress.

“Well, technically you probably get to name it, but until you come up with something I’m calling it Pitty,” Danny explained, and rather felt that Jason should be grateful.

Unlike the rest of his family, Jason had seen the full list of how Jack Fenton named things. Danny preferred to think he took after his aunt.

He coulda called it the Fenton Pit Friend or something. Really, it wasn’t hard to think of anything worse.

From his aura, Jason now seemed to be intentionally ignoring him.

Stewing in indignation-disbelief-confused-confused-confused. Well, that was his call.

Anyway.

“Back to Constantine though, I wasn’t kidding. I do actually own his soul,” Danny said casually, since they’d gotten distracted from his previous attempt to make the drive more interesting.

For a moment he wasn’t sure if Jason would rise to the bait this time either, and then another sigh came over the radio.

“Y’know, somehow, that’s the least surprising thing you’ve said. Man sells his soul so much everyone seems to have a chunk,” Jason grumbled, and Danny snickered.

“Oh, pretty much. He’s the Caterpie of human souls. He never made a deal with me directly though,” he added quickly, without being fully sure why.

He was pretty sure Jason wouldn’t jump straight to “Danny is a soul trader”, but honestly he’d gotten used to getting ahead of wilder trains of thought.

“Oh? How’d you get twelve then?” Jason shot back, clearly warming back up to things.

Mission accomplished. Danny grinned.

“Well, previous Ghost King was in nappy time for a couple thousand years, but he had this whole thing about collecting souls to add to his army of thralls, so basically anyone could sign their soul over for a chunk of power. Real charmer,” Danny snorted, rolling his eyes.

It was so far from the worst thing Pariah Dark had ever done, but so far it was definitely the longest lingering annoyance.

“I got the impression,” Jason agreed in pretty much the same tone, prompting Danny to continue.

Which. Yeah. Was more fun than thinking about the mountain of thrall contracts still awaiting their owner’s deaths, which the Observants were still fussing over.

Nobody wanted more thralls, souls wiped clean of everything that made them, well, souls. Just unliving batteries. Even ghosts found them creepy.

On the other hand, there was nothing the Observants loved more than rules. And the rules said a signed contract had to be honoured.

Really they shoulda expected Danny to ask who the fuck signed for Pariah, since he was (again) in nappy time prison. He hoped nobody else died while they sorted that out.

“Danny?”

Ah. Yup, he did it again. Danny shook his head and sighed, kinda missing the wind in his hair. It kept him more present than the enclosed space of the helmet.

“Sorry. So, John Constantine, clever bitch, wrote himself a contract that signed his soul over to the Ghost King, not Pariah Dark. Got through whatever screening was in place no problem, and now he’s my problem.”

A problem that Clockwork had presented Danny with on his fucking birthday no less.

That had been part one of the soul screening process; who was stuck with Pariah by name, and ho boy that was a depressingly long list… and still growing, though it had slowed recently.

News of Pariah losing his crown was slow to spread, and frankly Danny himself could be doing more to help that, except. Well.

Not taking the damn crown himself until he had to. Not wanting to give the creeps of the world anything to call him.

There were a lot of good reasons, okay? And Clockwork had specially singled out Constantine’s contract and delivered it to Danny himself as a birthday present.

“Well, that explains one,” Jason agreed with a snicker, pulling to a stop in front of the police station, “but what about the other eleven times?”

Danny snorted a laugh, sliding off the bike and stretching. As much fun as hugging Jason at high speeds was, he didn’t like being still for too long.

“Tax season,” he explained cheerfully, pulling off the helmet and looking around, “I guess we’re meeting Harley here?”

Snickering to himself, Jason pulled off his own helmet and tucked it into the storage on the back of his bike. Danny passed it over, noting that Jason had also had to get a second little pod for the other helmet.

He wasn’t gonna ask. Maybe they were in storage?

“Yeah, we’re meeting Harley here. Better not to swing by the manor for a while,” Jason added, his expression souring.

Which did make Danny feel a little bad actually. He didn’t want to cause trouble for Jason with his family…

But before he could say anything Jason ruffled his hair roughly, shaking his head.

“It’s not your fault, Danny. This kinda shit happens every other week, Bruce gets on his bullshit and I steer clear. He’ll calm the fuck down eventually and remember to mind his own business,” he explained dryly, nodding towards the doors.

Danny hesitated before moving to follow. It felt true, he could feel Jason’s sincere-exhausted-familiar-still over it clear as day, it just.

“I’m still sorry I wound him up though,” Danny finally decided, heading after Jason up and in. Jason who rolled his eyes and held the door open.

“Danny. He winds himself up. You could be a literal angel and he would not fucking care. You couldn’t unwind him even if you miraculously found the key. We’ve all tried,” Jason said with a sigh, though at least the anger seemed to have burned off into just…

Tired.

Jason just felt tired.

Probably cuz he was off fucking around with Cass last night, but Danny wasn’t about to call him out on it.

Not when they’d just walked into the police station (ew) and the wild sight of Harley Quinn, hair in pigtails and dressed in her signature red and black, sat on the duty officer’s desk with a bat. Filing her nails.

Total silence filled the room, broken only by the swing of the doors opening as Danny and Jason stepped through.

The whole room was watching her in a kind of terrified awe, like she was a particularly dangerous bomb waiting to go off. Danny’d swear they weren’t even breathing.

She looked up as the door opened, grinning broadly at the sight of them and waving in a large, exuberant gesture.

“Oh, there’s my boys! Hey boys!” She called in obvious delight, and half the room flinched.

Didn’t seem to matter that she hadn’t even been in Gotham for ages, let alone being her former roguish self. She had the kind of presence that left a lasting impression.

No wonder Danny liked her. She coulda fit right in with his ghost friends.

Maybe she’d come join them for fight club.

——————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny x jason #dead on main ship #a good excuse to be a bad influence #chapter 14 maybe???#it’s been a week i forgot i’m not checking #BUT IT’S ANOTHER ONE WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR #yes danny owns constantine #12 times over #danny does not own a sense of self preservation on the road

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deathmetalangel · 2 years

Note

Hello there!

I wanted to ask for a request, only if you want though ^^'

What about some Hcs with Rose Quartz, Garnet, Lapis Lazuli y Peridot (sepparetly) reacting to a 13 year old fem!Gem!reader (who has very bad trust issues and avoids physical contact at all costs due to past trauma about being betrayed and puffed)

Coming to them crying after and tackling them into a hug them while rambling about how Amethist said that if she misbehawed Pearl was going to puff her (wich was obviosly a joke)

BAD JOKE HEADCANONS (GEMS X FEM! READER/PLATONIC)

warnings: mentions of poofing, ptsd

backstory: y/n is still a “new” gem only emerging from the ground about thirteen years prior to meeting the gems; however, almost all of that was spent in a bubble after being poorer by their original group of gems. some old homeworld loyalists that came to earth to hopefully “defeat” the crystal gems.

ROSE QUARTZ

- she feels SO bad

- rose was very patient with y/n after finding her so she knew about her boundaries and physical touch being a huge one

- so when she came up to her and just hugged her she knew something was wrong

- even if it was silly, she knew that y/n didn’t yet understand jokes and took everything quite literal

- comforts them by letting them cry and just being so understanding

- “take your time y/n. it’s okay, i’m here. don’t worry. amethyst was just teasing.”

- once she’s calmed down she explains that pearl said it as a joke mostly out of annoyance. she meant no actual harm

- brings her back to the temple to help her talk to amethyst about why she can’t joke like that

- even brings pearl over to have her assure y/n she would never do such a thing

- rose just wants y/n to know she’s safe with the crystal gems

- 10/10 very very comforting

GARNET

- y/n came running up to her while she was in the bubble room

- she knew it was serious because it was a place y/n tended to avoid because of what happened to her before they found her

- she just clings onto garnet crying about how amethyst told her pearl was going to poof her if she wasn’t a good crystal gem

- garnet seen it in a very unlikely reality so she was surprised that it actually happened

- garnet kneels down with y/n and just consoles her by petting her hair

- y/n can’t help but hold onto garnet for protection

- “amethyst was only joking. i predicted no real danger in your future. i understand your fear, but i assure you y/n. you are in no danger here.”

- ruby was a bit annoyed at amethyst as she knew fully well what you went through, but felt nothing wrong with her joke

- sapphire knew it was just a off handed comment to rile y/n up during a training session

- “take your time y/n. i know the thought of being poofed is traumatic. you have nothing to be ashamed of. i’ll make sure amethyst apologizes. it wasn’t right of her to say that.”

- pearl is even shocked amethyst says that

- promises she would never ever

- allows y/n to stay close by her side for a while even after amethyst apologizes

- 20/10 i love my red and blue moms

LAPIS LAZULI

- while lapis wasn’t one for touch either, when y/n came barreling into her arms she knew something serious happened

- it wasn’t unlike her to not take things very seriously, but she could tell that y/n was terrified

- “hey, what happened?”

- she honestly doesn’t know how to react much

- when y/n explains it lapis was so annoyed at amethyst

- “don’t worry. pearl won’t do anything. amethyst is just being mean. don’t let her get to you.”

- “but why would she say that?”

- hearing y/n cry broke her heart tbh

- “who knows. amethyst is weird. just ignore her like i do, but if her or pearl do every try anything don’t hesitate to come to me. i won’t let them do anything i promise.”

- after all y/n was just a terrified gem like they once were

- convinced them to calm down by just continuously promising she was strong enough to protect both of them (which she definitely was)

- 9/10 a bit awkward at first but great after

PERIDOT

- peridot had no idea what was happening when y/n just straight tackled them while bawling her eyes out

- “uh did you know you’re crying?”

- “amethyst said pearl was going to poof me if i acted up or misbehaved! they promised me they were different! they all said they were nothing like the agates!”

- y/n cries while holding onto peridot

- she may be awkward, but she knew you were genuinely scared

- holds her slowly so she doesn’t flinch and let’s y/n cry

- “i’m sure that clod amethyst was just playing one of her pranks. she never does know when to stop. i mean, you know earth gems. they’re all so rowdy.”

- tries to console y/n as best she can

- “the pearl wouldn’t poof you. if anything she’d want to poof me. besides steven wouldn’t let that happen.”

- her awkward jokes and stiff touch kind of do cheer y/n up

- “why would amethyst say that though? that’s so mean!”

- “amethyst also eats dirt and old dumpster donuts. i wouldn’t worry about her too much. besides. us two are much more superior gems! she’s probably just jealous.”

- peri helps wipe her tears

- “y-yeah peridot. i guess you’re right.”

- “i’m always right!”

- 11/10 awkward but funny

#steven universe x reader #steven universe #su #submission #rose quartz x reader #lapis lazuli x reader #peridot x reader #garnet x reader #x reader #platonic #steven universe headcanon #deathmetalangel

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year

Text

Capitol Punishment XIV

Haymitch x Reader ~ Completed

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage, torture, sexual torture, medical stuff

Word Count: 2.6K

Part XIII | Masterlist

A/N I’m radically changing the ending because I hate the ending of Mockingjay

You didn’t watch most of it, too terrified to see your friends be maimed by whatever fucked up creations the game makers could come up with. Plutarch told you, Haymitch, Beetee, and Johanna horror stories of all the planned mutts they had sitting in archives that would likely be brought out for this.

Those four days were some of the worst you had experienced. The only words that released the tense hold of worry on your mind came from Coin. “We’ve taken the Capitol,” she announced to the remaining victors in 13. “Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick are all okay,” she mentioned with a kind yet forced smile.

But you didn’t care to read into that. Your friends were okay.

The next day you were entering the president’s mansion again. The first time in two years when Haymitch the was brought here and nearly executed for punching a Capitol man. Remembering the circumstances of being here last time Haymitch pulled you a little bit closer.

As you entered a grand meeting hall you were greeted by Coin and Enobaria. Beetee immediately got defensive. “What is she doing here?” he asked, remembering the knife in the back he had received from one of her district partners.

“Enobaria here is the last victor alive apart from the ones that made it to 13. The rest were killed shortly after 12 was bombed,” Coin explained calmly as if she weren’t explaining a massacre.

“I was the only one left in the arena that wasn’t a part of your alliance. They knew I wasn’t a part of the rebellion so they let me live if I did propo,” Enobaria explained with a shrug.

The doors then opened, revealing Finnick and Peeta. Annie immediately went to her new husband, embracing him. Peeta, now de-muttified, came to you and Haymitch. You hugged him first. “Thank god,” you whispered, having feared for his life and mental state.

“I’m okay,” he assured you, pulling away gently. He then faced Haymitch, his mentor bringing him into a quick hug.

“Where’s Katniss?” you asked as Johanna and Beetee approached to greet Peeta.

“Talking with Snow in the greenhouse. He had something to say to her I guess,” Peeta explained.

Nodding at his explanation you turned to Finnick. He was already two steps away from you, pulling you into a hug. “I guess you win shittiest honeymoon of all time,” you joked.

“Yeah, we do,” Finnick laughed, pulling away to greet the others.

The door then swung open, bringing everyone’s attention to Katniss. You were first in line to greet her with a hug.

“You did it,” you muttered against her shoulder. You felt her wrap her arms tightly around you, enjoying your comfort.

“Snow wants to see you,” she said.

You were a little taken aback but nodded anyways. You looked over your shoulder at Haymitch who looked hesitant. “I’ll be okay,” you assured before exiting, headed for the garden.

An armed guard followed you wordlessly, never averting his gaze towards you, only staring straight ahead. Shrugging it off you continued on until you reached the greenhouse, another two guards allowing you to enter.

You were immediately met with warmth and a very strong scent from the thousands of white roses that grew around you. “Ms. L/N, I’m glad you came,” Snow smiled.

“It’s the least I can do to honor a dead man’s final wish,” you returned his smile.

“Ah yes,” he chuckled. “And I’m sure Katniss will be the one to do it. Tell me, does that bother you that she’s the one to do it? After all I put you, Haymitch, Peeta, Johanna, and Finnick through much worse. Don’t one of you deserve to do it more?”

You practically spat a laugh out. “You really are desperate aren’t you? You’re not going to turn us against Katniss. Her executing you as The Mockingjay is bigger than our grievances with you.”

“Still, I bet you’d like to put a knife in my throat after everything you’ve endured.”

“The knowledge that you’ve been brought down to your knees by the people you considered to be less than the dirt on your boot is enough for me. And you’ll be executed by the girl I trained for the games, the very same girl who started all of this,” you sneered. “You know you could still be in power. You could’ve just stopped the games, said the districts paid their penance and been done with it. Or at the very least let the victors live in peace, treat them well. But no, you just had to have a group to be a scapegoat for all of the Capitol’s and Panem’s problems in order to harbor as much power as possible.”

“Do you really think Coin will be different?”

“I’m not interested in the politics. If she fucks up like you did, well the country’s so bloodthirsty right now I’m sure she’ll be gone within an hour of he decision. Goodbye Coriolanus.” And with that you existed, leaving in his prison of roses.

As you approached the meeting hall again you saw Katniss and Gale walking in the same direction as you. “Do you know what this is about?” she asked you.

“What what is about? I just left Snow’s greenhouse.”

“Coin has asked all the victors to meet,” Gale explained.

Shrugging, you followed them into the meeting hall, being greeted with all the victors plus Coin sitting around a table, two spots left for you and Katniss. You took your seat next to Haymitch and Coin began.

“I have invited you all here for several reasons, but first, I have an announcement. I have taken the burden and the honor of declaring myself interim president of Panem.”

“Interim?” Haymitch interrupted with a scoff. “Exactly how long is that interim?”

“We have no way of knowing for certain. But it's clear that people are far too emotional right now to make a rational decision. We'll plan an election when the time is right.”

Haymitch sent an astonished look towards you, as if saying, ‘Can you believe this?’

“But I have called you here for a far more important vote. A symbolic vote,” Coin continued. “This afternoon, we will execute Snow.” Everyone’s gaze slipped towards Katniss, including yours. “Hundreds of his accomplices also await their deaths. Capitol officials, peacekeepers, torturers, game makers. But the danger is, once we begin, the rebels will not stop calling for retribution. Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. So I offer an alternative plan. Majority of five may approve it. No one may abstain. The proposal is this:” A pregnant pause mad everyone hold their breaths, “in lieu of these barbaric executions, we hold a symbolic hunger games.”

Everyone was taken aback, Haymitch even having his mouth wide open. Well everyone except for Johanna who was laughing. “You wanna have another Hunger Games with the Capitol’s children?”

“You’re joking?” Peeta calmly asked, a touch of outrage in his voice.

“Not in the slightest,” Coin answered.

“Is this Plutarch’s idea?” Haymitch asked.

“It was mine. it balances the need for revenge with the least loss of human life. You may vote,” she declared, settling back against her seat a little.

“No,” Peeta said immediately. “No, obviously not this is crazy.”

“I think it’s more than fair,” Johanna jumped in eagerly. “Snow’s got a granddaughter. I say yes.”

“So do I,” Enobaria agreed. “Let them have a taste of it.”

“You guys, this way of thinking is what started these uprisings,” Peeta protested.

“I vote no, with Peeta,” Annie chimed in.

Next to her Finnick was staring at the table, uncomfortably. “I vote yes,” he said softly. “They’ve taken so much from the districts. They should know what they did to us.”

“No,” Beetee answered. “We need to stop viewing each other as enemies.”

Everyone was looking at you now. You weren’t sure. On one hand these were innocent children who did nothing wrong and who had happened to be born into the Capitol. But you also wanted their parents who were so complicit, and even perpetuated, your torture to feel your and the the districts’ pain. You turned to your husband, completely unsure what to say. He gave you a nod, his expression telling you to vote however you feel. “No,” you answered. “Those children are innocent, the same way we were. They don’t deserve to pay for their parents’ sins.”

“It’s down to Katniss and Haymitch.”

Katniss sat there for a minute, an unreadable expression on her face. “I get to kill Snow,” she declared.

“I expected no less of you,” Coin agreed.

“Then I vote yes,” she answered, shocking almost everyone. “For Prim,’ she explained.

“Haymitch?”

He and Katniss shared a look before he turned his gaze to you. His expression read something along the lines of ‘trust me.’ “I’m with the Mockingjay.”

“That carries the vote,” Coin said. “Excellent. We’ll announce the games tonight after the execution.”

You were all then dismissed, everyone leaving without a word. Unsure of where to go you just followed Haymitch into what you presumed was your bedroom for as long as you were in the Capitol. “What the hell is going on?” you asked as soon as the door was closed.

Haymitch breathed deeply before answering. “Coin isn’t trustworthy. She’ll become just like Snow.”

“So why’d you let her have her games?” you asked. “The Capitol will be rising up against us in a couple years.”

“I needed to back up Katniss so she knows I’m with her. Coin is already distrustful of Katniss, that wasn’t a vote to see if we wanted another games, that was a loyalty test.” Suddenly all the pieces fell together. “Right now Coin thinks her biggest threat to her power is Katniss. The best thing she can do right now is to play her part as Coin’s Mockingjay.”

“So what does that mean for those of us who voted no?” you asked, afraid of Coin’s ambition.

“Don’t worry, she’ll feel safe as long as she has Katniss’ loyalty. And even if she tried anything, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.” He paused, struggling with the next words. “I couldn’t protect you from Snow, and for that I’m sorry. But I can protect you from Coin and I promise nothing will happen.” He sealed his covenant by pressing his lips to yours which you melted into.

When you both pulled away you rested your hand on his jaw. “Don’t do anything to get yourself hurt.”

Later that afternoon you and the other victors were marched out onto the Avenue of the Tributes, where you had been paraded around 8 years ago as well as just over a month ago.

Snow was strapped to a whipping pole in the center of the ring at the end of the avenue. Above you in the stands were both district citizens and Capitol citizens who were being forced to watch. Stood along the avenue, waiting for Katniss were the surviving rebels who had fought in the Capitol and the Districts. On the balcony overseeing everything were the other leaders of the rebellion, including Plutarch and Paylor. The eight victors were divided on the ground, they would be flanking Katniss as she fired her shot at Snow. Peeta, you, Haymitch, and Johanna all stood to one side, facing Snow. On the other side were Enobaria, Finnick, Annie, and Beetee.

As the drums began you could see Coin above you, walking onto the platform with her arms open, reveling in her victory. Down the Avenue was Katniss dressed in battle gear, the rebels following her as she passed.

Haymitch took your hand, squeezing it as Snow took a second to meet every victors’ gaze. You stared back coldly, fulfilling your promise to him that this was enough for you.

You all gave Katniss nods as she finally reached her spot, a silent promise that you’d follow her no matter what. You watched as Snow and Katniss met each others’ gazes, a silent understanding of hatred between the two.

“Welcome to the new Panem,” Coin announced, her voice echoing over the ave making you shiver. “Today, on the Avenue of the tributes, all of Panem, a free Panem, will watch more than a mere spectacle. We are gathered to witness an historic moment of justice. Today, the greatest friend to the revolution will fire the shot to end all wars. May her arrow signify the end of tyranny and the beginning of a new era. Mockingjay, may your aim be as true as your heart is pure.” With those words she opened up her arms, as if embracing the moment.

Katniss wordlessly and flawlessly pulled an arrow from her quiver, notched it and took aim. The entire stadium held their breaths as she paused before suddenly aiming up, firing the arrow into Coin.

You heard yourself audibly gasp as Coin fell from her platform with an arrow sticking out of her heart. The crowd was clamoring in shock, you began to look around worriedly. ‘What the hell did Katniss just do?’

You could hear Snow laughing as Haymitch began tugging you away from the crowd that was now rushing at Snow, determined to finally kill him.

You could see some guards dragging Katniss away, the rest pulling the other victors towards you and Haymitch who was leading you into another room. The room was immediately filled with the sound of a million questions, trying to figure out what was going on and what would happen next.

The sound was only ended by Plutarch entering, letter in hand. “What is going on?” Finnick asked.

He took a breath, holding up his hand in a pause. “With Coin and Snow both dead the district leaders and I have agreed to hold a free election. Katniss will be sent away for now and will be pardoned once everything has calmed down. For now I need you,” he looked at Haymitch, “to give her this letter for me.”

“What about us? Where do we go?” Johanna asked.

Plutarch shrugged. “Your job in the rebellion is done. It’s time to form a government now. You’re welcome to stay in the Capitol now or return home.”

“What even is home anymore?” you asked, remembering what Katniss told you about 12.

Haymitch wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side with a kiss to the top of your head. For the first time since you met him, he didn’t have an answer for you.

“I’m sorry,” was all Plutarch said before exiting.

“So what now?”

7 Years Later

You sat on a bench, facing out into the harbor of District 4, Haymitch by your side with his arm around you. Peeta and Katniss were sat together on the other side of the bench, cooing at their new baby as their older son played on the beach with Finnick and Annie’s son. The couple inside preparing drinks for you and the other victors. Johanna and Enobaria sat at the table together, discussing the furniture that would go in their now shared home. Across and to the side of you was Beetee with his two year old daughter in his lap, playing with a small metal logic game as she tried to figure out the puzzle.

You smiled in content, enjoying the future you fought for. You had fought for this in the arena for the first time 15 years ago and you had fought for it again during the rebellion. You felt a finger reach under your chin, pulling your gaze towards your husband. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips before pressing his lips to yours.

A/N And that’s the end of Capitol Punishment. Thank you so much for everyone who read and supported this, I had absolutely no clue so many of you would love this so much

Part XIII | Masterlist

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #Haymitch #haymitch x reader #THG #The Hunger Games #the hunger games x reader

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