#WHEN MEN PUSH THEIR HAIR BACK WITH THEIR SUNGLASSES ON TOP OF THEIR HEAD???!?! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blossiewossie · 3 months

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— Lawless Affair .02

pairing : gojo x reader x geto genre : business men au (lawyers), smut rating : explicit word count : 3.5k+

— note : i told myself (and my friends) that i'd post a pt. 2 if i got 10 notes, but im so overwhelmed that i got more!! thank you, beautiful readers ♡ i started working on this after i posted pt. 1, so i hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it, teehee!

— special thanks to @junqkook and @trshpando for helping me revise my work ♡

Two weeks later...

You’ve had enough.

The maddening frustration of being teased has been going on for far too long in your eyes. The past two weeks have gone by with you practically running home to jump into the shower to take an ice-cold one every. Single. Night.

While you scrub your skin harshly, your mind thinks back to all the countless ‘innocent’ moments that made your knees buckle.

The first incident was on your third day at work, when you decided to get up and walk over to the vending machine in the downstairs lobby to stretch your legs and grab a quick snack. The doors on either side of the stairwell had to be closed at all times for security purposes, so you made it a point to open the door and swivel back around to ensure the door at the top of the stairs had closed softly.

As you turned around to make your way down, you see the downstairs door open up and lo and behold, Mr. Gojo himself comes stalking through, shutting the door behind him with his foot as his hands stayed put in his slack pockets. Tilting his head up to look at you through his circular sunglasses, he grinned and leaned back onto the door, crossing his arms. He was once again wearing a suit, but this time, it was all white with a black button-up shirt underneath. His hair was the same as ever, white as can be.

“Well, well. We have a habit of running into each other,” he said in a teasing tone.

You cleared your throat as you descended the stairs carefully, keeping a hand on the rail as you approach the man hindering you from continuing to your destination.

“Hello to you too, Mr. Gojo.”, you said, not liking how breathless your voice sounded.

Is that because of the stairs or because of the man in front of me? you thought to yourself as your steps slow to a stop on the second step. You don’t allow yourself to invade his space as you look at him questioningly, wondering why he’s still leaning on the door.

His eyes meet yours, softening your questioning gaze. He takes a step forward until the tip of his shoe meets the bottom step, bringing his face much closer to yours. His eyes go back and forth between your shocked ones, and then they snap down to your lips before he raises them again to meet yours.

Swiftly, his right hand finds its way to your hip and around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You gasp suddenly, taken aback by how direct he was being. Your hands find their way to his chest, barely pushing but still maintaining a safe distance between you both.

“Now, ____. I don’t remember asking you to call me Mister before. Is that something you like to do?” he asks softly, his eyes a different story. The iciness in them seemed to become ablaze as he awaited your answer, licking his bottom lip slowly.

You feel yourself blushing as you look away from his heated gaze, hands trembling against his warm chest. You don’t quite know how to respond to his question. Surely he knows you can’t possibly address him with his first name, right? As you try to conjure a coherent thought, his left hand comes up and grips your chin, turning your face towards him again.

His hot gaze wiped away any other thought in your head, so you blurt out the first thing you can think of.

“I like to respect my superiors, Mr. Gojo.” you stutter out, watching his face for his reaction to see if your answer had satiated his question

His eyes, now hooded, sparkle as if he was happy with your answer. He removes his hands from you, letting you inhale a breath, but he hovers near you as he takes a step up the stairs.

“Good girl,” he says with a smirk, before pushing his sunglasses back up his face and making his way up the stairs as if nothing had happened.

You watch his retreating form whistling up the steps while you grip the railing hard. He opens the door you had just closed, looks back at you with a wink, and makes his way in, letting the door slowly close behind himself. You hear him call out to the other coworkers, not having a care in the world, as if he did not just say the naughtiest thing to you.

You, on the other hand, have slumped against the wall, breaths coming out unevenly. The tingling in between your legs had you struggling down the last step before you rushed towards the bottom door, ripping it open to welcome the cool air from the lobby.

You beelined straight for the vending machine and pressed a random candy bar before shoving in the change feverishly, craving the distraction that sugar could give you. The candy dropped and you bend down to rummage through the slot, grasping whatever it was that you had chosen. Ripping open the packaging, you took a big bite out of it and the sweetness of the treat had you sighing with relief, as if it would cure the turmoil your body was going through.

Back in the real time, you realize you’ve been scrubbing the same spot on your chest for too long, creating a tender spot in between your breasts. Cursing under your breath, you rinse out your loofah before making the warm water a bit colder, throwing your head under the water.

As you rinse the shampoo out of your hair and slap in some conditioner, your mind wanders once more, this time to the second incident — and you try to decipher if what had happened back then was something you imagined or something that actually took place.

It was the weekend after your first week of working, and as much as you were looking forward to relaxing and watching your roommates play their video games, you had decided to take on one of the clerks’ weekend shifts to let your coworker spend time with his wife and kids. He had been droning on and on about it all week, complaining about how he always has to work the weekend every other week and that he was looking forward to watching the game, but had forgotten it was his weekend this time around.

You had volunteered to work it, partly because you wanted to get on your coworkers’ good graces, partly because on your first day, after bumping into both of the bosses, you had been so distracted that you didn’t get much work done, which snowballed into you being a bit behind in your work. Plus, you had thought to yourself, I don’t have to worry about either of them being in because, surely, they don’t work on the weekends either, right?

You were told that on weekends, the dress code policy was more lenient. After throwing on a pair of light blue jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt, you made your way to the kitchen where you grabbed a light breakfast before slipping on a pair of white sneakers and making your way out the door, hollering a farewell to your roommates. You didn’t get an answer back which didn’t concern you too much, as they had spent the night before playing fps-games or whatever they had called it.

After taking the shuttle bus and walking a few blocks, you arrived at the building and walked in with a bright smile, ready to start the day free of distractions.

As you made your way into the office area and settled down into your cubicle, you realized just how deserted the workspace was.

Maybe I should take the weekend shifts more often, you thought.

Taking out your phone, you sent a quick text to Iori and Mei Mei, asking if they had any plans for tomorrow since it was a Sunday and you wanted to grab some food with your new friends. Clicking your phone off and putting it on silent, you scoot your chair in closer and start working.

Halfway through your shift, around what you assumed was lunch time, you heard a door open and close. Glancing away from your computer, you look around, trying to find the source of the noise. Hearing footsteps, you look back towards the boss’ office to seem him standing idly by on his phone, typing casually. You sucked in a breath as you took in his form.

His usual business attire was now replaced by a black shirt, showing off every inch of his muscular arms, chest, and abs. Paired with it was a pair of dark jeans and white sneakers. You could see how long his hair was now, as it was down from his usual bun and instead, resting softly atop his shoulders. He was looking too good for someone wearing a casual outfit.

Clearing your throat to make your presence known, you look back at your computer as you call out to greet him, hoping he was just stepping out to take his lunch. You couldn’t bear his presence standing there, so you crossed your fingers that he’d greet you and be on his merry way.

Luck clearly was not on your side, as he glanced up in your direction and smiled, slipping his phone into his back pocket as he sauntered his way over to your cubicle. You prepared yourself to look up at him, but he did not stop walking and instead came into your space and stood right behind you.

Leaning down your left side, he looked curiously over your shoulder as you tried to continue typing out emails and organizing files. You jump a little as his right hand reached over your right shoulder, grabbing onto your hand holding the mouse as he whispered a quick, ‘Let me see this for a moment’, before clicking onto a folder.

After double-clicking it, he leaned more into you, his face almost touching yours, as he read the documents listed in said folder. Turning your head away from the screen to give him a sense of privacy, you take in how the veins in his arms looked. Stealing a secret whiff, you inhale his scent, relishing how woodsy he smelled.

As you turn your head back towards the computer, he lets go of the mouse, leaving his hand there, resting atop yours. His mouth hovered right by your ear, as he asked you what exactly you were doing there on your first weekend off. Gulping, you recant the story of your fellow clerk wanting to stay home, your mind hyper focusing on the fact that his hand lightly squeezed yours every time you mentioned your coworker’s name. He hummed for a moment before finally standing up straight.

You pull on a tight smile as he bid his farewell and walked away, pulling his phone out once more. You wait for the door to the stairway to close before breathing out a heavy breath. You let out a shiver and pull your trembling hand to your chest, remembering how warm and big his hand felt around yours. You bite your lip and close your eyes to remember just how deep his hum was, right by your ear, his lip brushing against it for a second too long. Did he mean to do that so sensually? you thought to yourself.

Groaning in real time, you reach back behind yourself and twist the knob further towards the cold side, your breaths coming out slower than before. Your mind was swirling with your memories, making your pussy ache with need. You think back to the last time you had anyone else besides yourself touch it, and you can’t believe how long it’s been. You close your eyes to rinse out the last of the conditioner in your hair, your mind going back to the most recent incident that had you mewling with frustration and heat.

There you were, at your cubicle twirling a pen in your left hand and clicking away at the computer with your right hand. You felt anxious, as if you were waiting for something to happen. Looking down towards the task bar of your screen, you realize you have 2 more hours left in your shift. Sighing, you place the pen down and stretch your arms up high. 2 more hours, that’s like 2 one-hour chunks, which is like 4 thirty-minute chunks. I can do this, you thought to yourself. That’s like, girl math.

You leaned back against your chair and rubbed your eyes, feeling a wave of fatigue. You had woken up a couple of times last night by your roommates screaming back and forth about someone being ‘one shot’ or needing a ‘revive’. You had tried to fall back asleep to no avail, and them howling into the night was definitely not helping. Two more hours and I can just go home and sleep, you said to yourself, motivating you to sit up straight and zone into your work.

Just when you were about to place your hands on your keyboard, the boss’ door swung open and Mr. Geto poked his head out while he scanned the office space. Landing his gaze on you, he closed his eyes with a smile and called out, “____, could you come to my office for a second?”

With a small nod, you rise up and head over to his open door, giving him a smile as you walk in. He closes the door as you look around his office, taking in his space. The main office area, where everyone else’s cubicles were, was light and had splashes of earthy tones everywhere. His office, however, was a different story.

His walls were painted black and the furniture in the room reflected that, including his desk, the chairs in front and behind it, and bookshelves. As it was at the edge of the building, the wall opposite the door you had just entered was covered in floor-to-ceiling windows, giving you a breathtaking view of city. The only pop of color in the room was his crimson red sofa in the middle of the room, where you noticed a familiar face: Mr. Gojo.

Remembering the stairwell incident, you blushed deeply as the other man flashed you a smile with amusement and something else dancing in his eyes.

“Please, have a seat at my desk,” said Mr. Geto, placing a hand behind the small of your back, guiding you forward. He pulled the chair out for you and pushed it in under you, then made his way around to sit in his own chair across from you. He sat down and maneuvered over to his computer, tapping a couple of keys and clicking his mouse a few times.

“I called you in today to ask how your first week and a half at work have been. I’d like to know if you’re settling in well and garner any feedback you may have concerning the workspace and your workload.”, Mr. Geto said, now looking directly at you with his hands clasped on the desk.

You tell him how honored you are to be working under him, as his law firm held quite a reputation in the city. You explained that you were getting along well with your fellow clerks and paralegals, as well as enjoying the challenge of handling various cases and their files. While talking, you noticed how intensely he was looking at your lips, drinking your words in. Your words trail off into silence as you realize how much you had been rambling.

After a beat of silence, Mr. Geto nodded his head and exclaimed loudly how happy he was to hear that you haven’t been having any trouble. You heard Mr. Gojo chuckle behind you, but assumed he had been looking at this phone or something. Mr. Geto sent him a subtle glare, making the latter stifle his laugh, before turning his attention back at you.

“Just to update a few things on your record here, I’d like to ask you a question, ____.”, he said with a serious tone now.

“Sure thing,” you said back, wondering what it could be. You were sure to have included any relevant details to Mr. Yu when he had filed your paperwork the day you came in for your orientation, but maybe they had missed a detail or two.

“Your marital status.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at your boss, not exactly understanding what the miscommunication was. You had previously told Mr. Yu that you were single, but maybe he had entered it in incorrectly or misheard you. You shyly tuck a lose strand of hair behind your ear before answering, stating that you were not married.

His eyes did not leave yours as he added on, “Hmm… is there a potential for your marital status to change in the near future? Perhaps a boyfriend waiting to propose?”

Shaking your head at his added inquiry, you answered back, “Uh, no, sir. I do not have a boyfriend, so that’s not a possibility.” Blushing at his questioning gaze, you break eye contact and ask, “Is that all, sir?”

“Now, how could a woman like you be single?” you heard Mr. Gojo ask gruffly, his voice much louder than previously. It seemed that during Mr. Geto’s questions, Mr. Gojo had gotten up from his spot on the sofa and made his way closer, now directly behind your chair.

You feel his hands settle on your shoulders, making your heart race. Looking back towards Mr. Geto, you assume he’ll scold his friend for making such an inappropriate statement. He doesn’t. Instead he rises from his own chair and walks around the table slowly, before stopping in front of your now turned chair, facing towards him thanks to the handsome man behind you spinning you slightly.

You can’t help but glance down towards his pants, now eye level with your eyes, where a growing bulge had formed. Gasping, you stand up abruptly and move to sidestep him, but he had other thoughts. Grabbing your waist with both hands harshly, he pulled you flush against himself, thrusting his growing bulge directly against you. A small moan slips out of your lips at the impact, making his dick twitch against you.

Another set of hands touch your back, sliding their way under your arms and wrapping themselves around your breasts. Mr. Gojo, now flush against your back, let his hands wander around the shape of your bosoms, finding your nipples and squeezing them softly. Another small moan escapes your lips as he grinds his dick right against your ass. Your body felt like it was on ecstasy and your mind was on cloud nine. Every fiber of your being wanted to be taken right there and then.

Gojo leaned his head down to your left ear, kissing it lightly before speaking up.

“Would you be a good girl and stay single for us?,” he whispered.

Geto, doing the same to your right ear, whispered as well.

“We don’t like to share with others, princess.”

You let out a tiny squeak before nodding vehemently, swearing under your breath that you had no interest in getting a boyfriend any time soon. The two men grunted in approval and both gave you kisses and licks on your ears and neck before backing up slowly, their grips loosening from your body. You found yourself licking your lips, missing their touches all too soon. Your nipples, now hard as rocks, poked through your blouse as you adjusted your clothing carefully. Your body hummed, wanting more of them. The men adjusted their slacks as well, keeping an eye on you as you stood their, waiting for them to dismiss you… or do something else.

Geto nodded his head towards the door, letting you know your time in his office was done. A disappointed feeling surged from within you, but you tried to ignore it as you made your way towards the door. As your hand reached for the handle, Gojo’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he said, as he loosened the tie around his neck a little. Looking back at him and Geto, who now was leaning against his desk, you wait to see what he has to say.

“When alone with Suguru and I, address us by our first names or you will be punished.”

You gulp and nod once more, before turning back towards the door and exiting, leaving without another look back.

You snap back into reality, hearing a knock on the bathroom door. The ice-cold water was still raining down on you as you took in how breathless you were.

One of your hands had found its way down to your pussy, rubbing your clit slowly, while your other hand was squeezing one of your breasts. Shaking your thoughts and calling out to your roommate that you were almost done, you rinse them both and turn off the shower. Sighing in frustration, you dry yourself off and slip on your robe.

Trudging past your roommate and telling them there was still some hot water, you made your way back to your bedroom and threw yourself on the bed. As you laid there, all you could think was:

What am I getting myself into?

#jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader x geto #gojo smut #geto smut

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cocteaucherry · 12 days

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her way

summary- you were once on top of the world, unfortunately that was taken away from you, but all of a sudden two men, the best at their sports ask for help.

tags- 18+, mentions of bruises, anxiety, broken bones, anxiety attack, ooc probably for some characters, maybe some smut (or threesome) in further chapters. figure skating (can you tell I used challengers for inspo?) gojo x reader, geto x reader, female reader

a/n- (making my monthly comeback, also thank you for 200 followers every like and follow means the universe to me! debating on a chp 1

you once were on top of the world

Doing the thing you loved every day every second, the costumes, the flair, the elegance.

Your long time senior coach, Yuki, made sure to always support you, even.. if she usually made it to rehearsal thirty minutes late.

“Yeah yeah that was great! But make sure you’re more solid off your double jump!” Yuki smirked leaning against the short wall of the skating rink.

“Weren’t you on your phone half the time?” You raised an eyebrow panting loudly as Yuki gave you a coy laugh.

“See? Stop paying attention to me and you’ll land your jumps.”

Oh how cynical it would be for you in the future.

You had officially made it to the Grand Prix finals, the world's eyes battering down your whole back, at least that’s how it felt to you.

You sat stretching your legs, the world around you invisible until you went on in approximately nine minutes and ten seconds. Your nerves were particularly bad today but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

You were so out of it you didn’t even notice the figure approaching you, all you saw were long legs in dark sweatpants.

You peered through your eyelashes to see the figure standing in front of you, snowy hair and sunglasses inside? Sheesh, how arrogant could this guy be?

“Y/N, right?” A grin appeared on his smug face as his hands slid into his pockets, “yeah? Is there something I can do for you?” You grunted standing up your eyes physically widening as you saw how tall he really was, getting a good look at his face and you began to recognize the man.

“Wait.. you look familiar..?”

His face drained of color as he cleared his throat, “Satoru Gojo, two time gold winner?” He pointed towards his face, “Figure skating Mozart on the ice rink?- wait you seriously don’t know who I am?!”

“I was kidding, MAYBE I’ve heard of you,” you chuckled and he let out a huff of frustration, “You’re good friends with.. what’s his name? Suguru Geto correct? I’ve heard he’s the Prince of Ice, huh?”

“That’s correct, he’s also fairly talented.” Satoru hummed in an almost annoyed tone? You pushed it off not thinking much of it.

“Must be hard huh? I mean being best friends in this line of business and somehow you always come out on top?” You questioned staring closely through Satoru’s glasses, you could almost clearly see the bright blue of his eyes peeking through the expensive lenses.

“Ahhh,” he grinned, adjusting his shades, “Suguru and I don’t lose our minds over a little friendly competition.”

“The Grand Prix is a friendly competition for you?” You scoffed crossing your arms and he nodded bashfully, “when you have no one to compete against it’s not really a competition.”

“Right, well I’m gonna get going soon.”

You desperately wanted to cut the conversation short but talking to him seemed to ease your nerves tremendously, “Thanks for talking with me though!” you smiled brightly getting set to walk towards the rink.

Satoru wanted to talk more but his words were caught in his throat, “I’ll cheer you o-on!” His voice fucking cracked and he wanted to slam his head against the wall.

Yuki stood nervously and annoyed at your apparent “lateness”

“Y/N! What the hell? You were supposed to be here a few minutes ago?” Her face was red with anxiety it seemed.

“I'm still here on time! Don’t worry Yuki,” you groaned and a smile appeared on her face, “I know I know, you should’ve been here though I was just talking to a certain someone you should be interested in,”

“Really? Who?” You said enthusiastically but before Yuki could start your name was called over the intercoms to get on the ice, you slid your windbreaker off revealing your light purple bedazzled costume. “I’ll tell you after, get out there and don’t fuck up!” Yuki pulled you into a quick hug before lightly pushing you into the direction you needed to go.

“Awhh, cmon Yuki!” You groaned walking your way carefully onto the ice, your mind repeating your step and jump sequences in your head.

Your legs jittered but you took deep breaths skating to your starting position.

Your routine started and you were doing great, landing your jumps, your spins were fluid and solid and then the second half was ending. Your routine was coming to a close and all you had to do was nail a double jump pretty simple right?

Then how come whenever you were in the starting position something felt off..

you were in the middle of the air getting ready to land before your ankle had twisted in the wrong direction causing you to eat absolute shit on the ice.

A loud CRACK! Resounded itself along with the searing hot pain your ankle felt as you tumbled on the ice, Oh God let this be a bad dream please God..

Hot tears poured down your face as you heard the quick loud flashes of cameras and the loud whispers of the crowd, your heartbeat sped faster and faster and you swore you were going to blackout, which is what you did.

You woke up from the blaring fluorescent lights and the steady beeps of the machines around you, your mother and father sat next to you with bated breath as your mother immediately jumped to hug you crying into your shoulder.

You groggily searched the room for Yuki only to find her in the hallway talking to the doctor, this wasn’t gonna end well.

You peered down at the large cast encasing your ankle and the bruises that crowded your leg, you wanted to cry but no tears came out.

Hours later you finally decided to turn on the TV, wanting to avoid seeing you eat shit on 4K you were instead met with a different kind of news.

Males singles winners,

Bronze- Yui Haibara

Silver- Satoru Gojo

Gold- Suguru Geto

Satoru had lost? You wondered how he felt right now, sure a small smile was on his face but he was adamant on winning.

Just like clockwork Yuki had come in holding two vases of flowers, “How you holding up?” She asked walking to the counter placing the vases down,

“‘As well as you think, everyone’s kind though.” You’ve gotten multiple concerned texts from figure skaters and fans and while you greatly appreciated it your face burned in embarrassment. How could you have messed up horribly?

“Of course they are, Goddess of the Ice,” Yuki hummed, checking the cards attached to the vases, “Well look at that, flowers from both Gojo and Geto.”

“Really? I feel honored.” You smiled but it quickly faded, “Tell me how bad it is Yuki.”

Yuki sighed leaning on the counter, “Well, your ankle is pretty fucked up.. might be time for you to look at possibly retiring.”

Your coach’s words circled in your head as you took a plane trip back to your hometown, your mother and father agreed to look after you in the meantime as you sought out your decision.

The past few days you had been in limbo, just living but no substance you even spaced out mid conversation with your best friend Utahime.

She offered you a place in her family’s shop where you could spend your hours conversing instead of just sitting around the house.

“Okay! Would you rather take care of ten newborn babies or fight a judo boxer?” Utahime asked, flipping through the channels of the front counter TV.

“We’ve played this for twenty minutes!” You groaned, placing your head in your hands, “the ten babies sound great though.”

Utahime had childishly given you a coloring book but you didn’t complain, you continued to scribble, enjoying the blissful silence with the occasional talk of the TV.

The bell of the front door opening broke you out of your silence, but before you could look up the voice seemed to give it away.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

Your eyes were brought up to see the familiar sight you were “graced” with 5 weeks ago.

“Think we could talk for a minute?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto angst #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #geto x female reader #challengers #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujustu kaisen smut

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be-my-ally · 1 year

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Wet Bikini

Here’s a little one shot I finished last week while I work on a couple of requests from the weekend + several other random bits I started last week!! Hopefully have more by the weekend!!

pairing: afab!reader/big daddy!elvis

summary: Your bikini top comes off in the pool at Graceland with everyone around - you swear its an accident but Elvis thinks you’re just a little tease.

In my head this is set in a later AU of We Can’t Go On Together (there’s no baby mentioned) but easily just a Big Daddy 70’s!Elvis one shot.

warnings: 18+, jealous!elvis - honestly when isn’t he when I’m writing? thigh riding (this is something i’m now realising may very well be a *thing* for me), dubcon semi-public exhibitionism - you can decide to what extent/if everyone stays and sees, or if they all distract themselves/leave when they realise that the two of you are up to something. Nipple play, & Elvis twice refers to himself as daddy.

wc: 2.4k

You’re laughing and joking with the girls as you lay on the loungers, watching Elvis and the boys splash about. They’re playing some form of water polo, cheering and dunking one another under according to some clearly made up rules. He’s not wearing a t-shirt in the pool for once, he gets so self-conscious lately, but clearly the lack of any cameras and the lack of any outsiders is making him feel free. Every time you look over at him it makes you smile to see him so relaxed, and it doesn’t hurt that it means you get a perfect view of his masculine hairy chest.

You shriek as a splash covers you in spray; the water hitting your tanned legs and you look over your sunglasses at the men in the pool.

“You did that on purpose!” Elvis looks sheepish, like a little boy caught out in a prank, and with his hair flopping into his eyes, and water dripping off of him you can see the little boy version of him too.

“Nu-uh! I-I-it was Joe!” He points over at him and you look over, Joe’s at the other end of the pool but Elvis is within two metres of you. You don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth.

“Hmmm.” You put your sunglasses back over your eyes and lean back, waiting for the right moment to attack; it comes a minute later when Elvis turns around to rejoin the game and you waste no time launching yourself at his back. You cling to his shoulders as your momentum from your jump in sends you both tumbling under water. He comes up gasping, pulling you up - still hanging like a limpet onto his back. “Got ya!” You lick his ear. He tries to throw you off, laughing as you clutch his neck. You let go when he leans back under - chucking you under the water again. You resurface, blinking the water out of your eyes smiling at him. He’s out of breath laughing at you, and he immediately pulls you to him.

“You got me.” He pushes your wet hair back, you hadn’t even thought to put your swim cap on in the rush, and leans down to kiss you; pulling you up onto him - the water making you practically weightless in his arms.

A moment later the ball comes flying towards the pair of you and he pushes you away in an attempt to save your face from being hit - your arms actually wheel back as if you were in a cartoon in an attempt to find your balance but its to no avail. You splash down with a thud, hitting the pool floor with the force of his push and your lack of balance. When you come back up Elvis is shouting at Red, chastising him for his god-awful throwing. He glances over at you - gesturing wildly as if to say ‘look what you did!’ But his words suddenly trail off. A flush travels up his chest and face as he looks at you. You can see - stood a way off - behind him that the play has abruptly stopped as the boys all look over at you. You whirl to look at the girls - unsure what’s happened when Charlie’s girlfriend cries out to you; “Your top!” Your swimsuit top is floating close to the edge of the pool, a few metres away from you, and you glance down in slight shock, to see your pebbled nipples and breasts completely bare - your tan line only working to emphasise what everyone could see. Elvis springs into action; grabbing your top and shoving it at you; practically pushing it onto you. But the ties are slippery and he’s all thumbs in his haste, so rather than lying the right way around your left breast is in a cup but your right is trapped between the ties - the cup halfway around your back. You laugh and bring an arm up to cover yourself. Elvis rights your top and crowds you against the pool wall.

“You think that’s funny honey?” His eyes are blazing, but you’ve got the giggles now and can’t stop; you’re not particularly shy but Jesus you didn’t need everyone to have seen your tits. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You do that on purpose, little girl? Get more attention?”

You frown and try to push him off, “No! Of course not.” He palms at one of your breasts, his body blocking the view from the rest of the pool; even though it sounds like play has resumed and the others are all mostly distracted.

“No? You weren’t tryna make me jealous? Be a little show off?” You whine squirming against him even as he sends shockwaves down your body.

“I swear, baby, I wasn’t!” You go to pull your top around but he stops you, gathering your wrists and pinning them against your belly button. He chuckles lowly;

“From where I’m standing,” He looks you up and down, “it seemed like it was on purpose. Intentional.” He moves to no longer be fully blocking you. “Seems like you wanted all the boys to see you - see what’s mine.” You shake your head, as he fiddles with your top again, tugging it around, fingers brushing your side, dipping into the cups.

“I didn’t I swear!” He shakes his head at you.

“I don’t believe you,” he sing-songs at you. His eyes are still dark but he’s not frowning so hard anymore, and you’re hopeful this is signalling a change to his more playful side. “You’re just a tease aren’t you,” He tugs your top to the side slightly, exposing a little less than half a nipple, “a little slut for it.” You whine and attempt to move away, but you’re not really trying, your breath catching as he rubs his thumb in a circle around your nipple. He leans in, to whisper directly in your ear, and he slots his leg between yours - forcing you to lean back against the wall. “Wanna give ‘em a show? Dirty girl?” You wriggle against his thigh. You can’t do much other than agree with him. Nodding against his head. “Knew it, doll. Knew you wanted them to see you. Let ‘em see what Daddy owns then.” He let’s go of your wrists and tugs your top down all the way - both of your tits popping out of the triangle cups. He grins at you, wolfishly, his hair an absolute mess from being repeatedly dunked and grabbed. Your hands fly up to protect your modesty, you can’t see the others from your view that mostly consists of Elvis at the moment, but that doesn’t mean they can’t see you.

“Oh - you don’t want them to see now?” You whine and stumble out an apology,

“No - I, Elvis. It was an accident!” You protest, why on earth would you have intentionally taken your top off?

“Hush up darlin’,” and he strokes your breast, his left hand following underneath the water, trailing down your stomach to play with the fabric at the top of your bikini bottoms, “Daddy’s teasing now.” A flash of panic goes down your spine - anyone could be watching right now! Although that thought does little more than excite you further - despite your immediate reaction you’re not too worried, what would anyone really be able to say to you? They’d be quickly rebuffed by you, if not Elvis himself, if anyone mentioned anything, but that didn’t mean the situation wasn’t embarrassing. Embarrassing you more was the fact that he really was turning you on. You didn’t think you had a thing for exhibitionism before and you couldn’t really tell if it was the public element of his teasing, and your nudity, or his possessive action that you found so arousing.

You press a hand against his chest, feeling his damp chest hair, as if you were about to push him away, but you find that all you can do is rest it there. Waiting to see what else he’s going to do. He laughs lowly at you, as if he expected you to melt and you’re now meeting his expectations. His hand moves down to rub your stomach over the waistband of your bottoms. His other goes to bat where your arm is still covering your breasts away, “Get that hand away from your, my, little tits sweet.” You comply, “You wanted them to see, you found it funny, “ he emphasises almost sarcastically, “a moment ago - so let,” he pulls the top down further, “them”, a pinch on each nipple, “see.”

He takes a step back. As his heat moves away you feel suddenly even more exposed. You squeeze your eyes closed and your head tips back - you don’t want to see if anyone’s watching, and he steps forward again, resting his thigh back where it was before. Sandwiched between your legs, the height difference between you evident as he crowds into you again. “Open those eyes baby, want ya to look at me. Watch me.” You roll your head forward, and he places his hand on either side of your body, resting on the pool edge, supporting himself as he bends his knee to prop you up. You’re sandwiched between the wall and his knee - only your thin, wet, bikini bottoms separating you from each other - the fabric sliding over his thigh as easily as if you were nude - the water making you weightless and frictionless. It made it simultaneously pleasing, to rut against him so easily, but also frustrating, the lack of friction makes it difficult to get the pressure right, difficult to get any motion on your clit.

“El-“ You stared into his eyes, eyes that were so dilated you could barely see the familiar blue in them. “El-Please,” He thrusts his knee into you, causing you to buck - bouncing you up . Your feet come off the floor and you take the initiative to hop up, wrapping your legs around him. You realise you can feel him hardening against you. You forget about your nudity, wrapping your arms around his neck, resting against his stomach. He moves his arms that were caging you in to support you - holding you up and tight against him. You rub against him, and he dips his head down,

“Please what darlin’?” You can feel his smile against your ear as he whispers into it, “What’d want baby?” He thrusts up, you bump against him and he shifts his hold of you into one arm, pushing you further onto his thigh. His thighs now are a lot thicker than they used to be, and it spreads your legs wider than when you first met - you love it. Love feeling his thickness, his manliness, his comforting weight under you, on top of you, surrounding you.

“Just, just - I just want you.” He laughs at you, thrusting up. You can feel yourself thrumming, and you can feel every vibration from his laugh going straight to your cunt.

“You got me, you always got me.”

He pushes you back against the wall, forcing your legs back down to place your feet on the pool floor. He draws a hand up to palm at your nipple, and roughly squeezes the breast around it before trailing it down, he skips over the waistband and you can’t help the whine that slips out, but then you feel his finger hooking into the crotch of your bottoms. Pushing them to one side. It all serves to remind you that you’re still exposed from the waist up, and now, from the waist down if someone were to look at the right angle. He slips a second finger in, roughly rubbing you - the water takes away some of your own slickness but he can feel the difference in texture, can feel you fluttering open to allow his finger to sink into you. Knows that you’re desperate for it. You gasp against his neck, pressing little open mouthed kisses along his shoulder as he strokes your wet, slick folds and walls.

His whole hand is practically under now, and he nudged your bottoms further to the side to allow his thumb to nudge against you, searching for your sweet spot. He finds it, delicately hidden, and when he touches it, rubs over it ever so gently before returning with a harder, rougher touch you jump as if you’ve been electrocuted. Your hips move of their own accord as you’re essentially pinned against his hand. Your hands leave his neck, one gripping his wrist, urging him to stay where he is and continue. You gasp again, trying to keep quiet, uncertain as you were to whether anyone was still around to be watching you, as he continues to expertly bring you the brink. You can feel his cock, still hard, rubbing against you, and you can’t help but reach out for it, attempting to slip your free hand down his tight little swim shorts. Before you can succeed though he pulls his hand away and you pant, still clutching his wrist.

“Good baby,” You whimper back at him in response to his baby talk, “Gonna leave you like this. Drippin’ ‘cause of the water, drippin’ ‘cause of me. Teach you you be a little flirt, little tease.” You clench your thighs, and he moves completely away, pulling your top back up and properly retying it. He really is going to leave you like this. You can barely form a coherent thought - all you can feel and hear is the throb of your heartbeat - centred not in your chest but between your legs. He kisses you and pushes you to one side, pulling himself up and out of the pool.

He crouches for a moment right by your head, and whispers in your ear - “Meet me in the shower, I’ll take proper care of you then.” You watch him walk away, patting himself dry with a little towel as he walked. You count to thirty before pulling yourself out of the pool, following him without even bothering to towel off - what’s the point when you’d still be wet anyway.

#elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley smut

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darknesseddiem · 1 year

Text

I was watching "What Men Want" and I started to think about the same happening with Eddie and Reader, but instead of reader hearing the man's thoughts, it is Eddie who's hearing what Reader thinks and I'm going feral for this. 🥵

Word Count: 2.431K

It's just a short blurb that I write in my phone yesterday, but if you guys liked I could turn this into a fic series.

Warnings: Goofy Eddie, mention of blood, allusion to sex, Simp!Eddie, Modern!Eddie, Eddie being Eddie.

It was a sunny Sunday and everyone was at Steve's house. Nancy, Robin and you were sunbathing on the lounger around the pool while El and Max were in the pool having a heated argument over who was better looking: John Stamos or Ralph Macchio.

The rest of the boys were playing chicken fight and causing a mess around the pool and near the back door.

You heard some cheers before Dustin started screaming.

"Mike and Lucas against... Steve and Eddie!"

You looked up in time to see Eddie and Steve raising their arms to the sides and walking around the pool like they were fighters in a ring.

You giggled as Eddie started blowing kisses in the air like he had a crowd of adoring fans.

"I wonder why we are friends with these idiots." Robin said with an annoyed face, her sunglasses resting on top of her beautiful blonde hair.

"Because Steve has a pool and a big house and rooms with bathtubs and…" She cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Yes, yes, I understand, we're friends with Steve 'cause of the pool and the house." The girl started pointing with her fingers. "And with Eddie for the free weed, because there's no way I was going to be friends with these two weirdos for free." She finishes with a nod and goes back to her sunbathing.

You smiled at her honesty and went back to sunbathing.

You checked on Nancy, she was asleep and you make sure that she was covered by the pool umbrella.

You were almost asleep when you were pulled by El and Max's scream.

You and Robin jumped in fright and looked for Nancy, who was probably inside taking a nap.

You looked at the pool and the boys were in a circle looking at something...or someone.

"Is he breathing?"

"Oh my God, we killed him!"

"Everyone stay away! Don't touch him!"

"It's your fault!

"My fault?"

Suddenly all sound was muffled and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

You approached and glimpsed somewhere floating face up in the water. It was Eddie.

Robin gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth.

"O-oh my God, I... I'm going to call an ambulance!"

She ran into the house to call an ambulance for the brunette in the water.

You approach slowly and with a better view you could see that the water around his head was painted a light red.

"What... what happened?" You asked with tears in your eyes, he was pale and you weren't sure if he was breathing.

"We were playing chickenfight and I accidentally splashed some water in his eyes," Lucas began with concern creeping into his voice. "I thought it was a great chance to win the fight and I pushed him back, I didn't know Steve was close to the pool wall and... What if... What if he's really hurt?" Tears started streaming down the boy's face.

"Hey, shhh... It's okay, Eddie is a tough guy, he'll be fine." You pulled him for a hug and soothed the boy. But even you didn't believe that Eddie would be okay.

Suddenly Robin came running to the pool and announced that the ambulance was almost there. You sighed in relief and your eyes turned to your best friend who lay pale and almost lifeless on the surface of the water.

The ambulance came and took Eddie straight from the emergency room and said he was off limits to visitors until he was out of danger.

And that's how you found yourself three hours later pacing the around hospital lobby, with all your friends waiting for any news about Eddie's condition.

The doctor called his name and you stopped walking and walked quickly in front of him.

"He's our friend. Any news?" You asked before everyone closed the hall with anxiety and concern for their friend.

"He's out of danger now, he has a concussion on his occipital bone, but it's nothing too serious. He's awake and clear for visitors, we'll run some more tests and then you can take him home." The doctor said writing on a sheet of paper.

You let out a sigh of relief when the doctor said that Eddie is safe and well, everyone in the hall sighed in the knowledge that their metalhead friend is not dead.

"Oh God, thank you Jesus."

"Man, I thought I was going to pass out worrying about that asshole."

"What is an occipital bone?"

"Do you think he's going to try to kill you after you nearly killed him?"

"Dude, I think you should run and hide because Eddie is going to be pissed at you."

"So... who goes first?" Steve asked standing with both hands on his hips like a mother.

"Lucas." All the boys said in unison and looked at their friend who looked like he was having a panic attack.

"WHAT? ME? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?" He screamed forgetting he was in a hospital.

"I mean, you need to apologize for almost letting him know Jesus…" Dustin said looking everywhere but at Lucas.

Steve scoffed and looked at Dustin like he'd grown two heads. "Jesus? Do you really think Munson is meeting Jesus when he dies? You're delusional, Dustin Henderson." He said gesturing with his hands.

"EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Max's voice shutting out everyone in the hall, including the people who work there.

"I think Steve had to go first" The redhead said and looked at the other brunette.

"WHAT? WHY ME?" He yelled in exasperation. "I don't even know if he's going to try to kill every single thing that moves towards him after all this, and you want me to go first? Hell no, I won't!" Steve crossed his arms like a petulant child.

"That's why you're going, Dingus, because you're going to be our shield against his rage." Robin interrupted and said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Steve gasped and placed his hand over his heart.

"My own friends, sacrificing ME! To the devil incarnate." He pretended to cry and everyone rolled their eyes in annoyance.

"Shut up!"

"Oh, but you are so going, Steve."

"You better go or I'll shove my feet up your ass."

"Come on, it's just Eddie, he's harmless." Okay, that was a lie, but whatever.

After a few minutes of heated discussion, Steve went (by sheer spontaneous pressure) to Eddie's room first.

Eddie didn't like those damn lights. Those white things just above his face were disturbing his peaceful sleep where he dreamed of you and your beautiful smile, just for him.

You two were in the park holding hands as you walked slowly as the sun started to hide behind the pink clouds, you were wearing a short white dress that goes up to mid-calf with small blue flowers and leaves, two slits on the side of your legs resting just above the knee and the sleeves resting beautifully on your shoulders.

"You know…" he started to say. "I always thought someone like me wouldn't be friends with a girl like you..." The boy said kicking the invisible rocks in front of him.

"Why not? I mean, you're everything a girl could dream of." You said and lifted his chin so he could look at you.

"Y-do you really think about it? I just…I don't know, you're too perfect for me, Sweetheart." He gives you a shy smile and starts walking towards you.

"Eddie..." You frowned and looked at him with those beautiful huge eyes.

Why are your eyes almost popping out of your skull? Wait, why are they getting bigger?

Eddie makes this weird face and you start smiling at him and he realizes you're turning into Snapchat's big-eyed bee filter, but without the colors and with lots of eyes.

He loses his shit when you start talking again. It wasn't your voice or even his language, it was Barbie's Bibble voice (he knows because he's watched every damn movie that had that weird blue bee thing in it).

"Elinapuff abarara batapa pelipuff ah lalalalala."

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

He started to distance himself from you so he could get away from this nightmare.

But suddenly the scenery changed and who in his place was the last person he expected to see.

Steve Harington.

Wearing your dress.

And holding his hand.

His. Fucking. Hand.

"Dude, you scared us all, everyone out there is worried about you."

With me? I'm not the one wearing my girl's dress.

"You know…" Steve grabbed the dress and started rocking back and forth like a schoolgirl. "I was afraid to go in and you'd be mad about what happened today."

I'm going to start screaming like a girl and I'm not kidding.

Steve walked over and touched his long hair as he balanced.

"Wow, now that I'm looking at you closer, your head now looks like Timmy from South Park. Damn." He felt Steve touching his head and that's what made him open his eyes at the exact moment.

Eddie's eyes widened as he sat up incredibly quickly on the hospital bed, his head felt like it weighed a ton and was throbbing like hell.

He looked over at Steve, who was scrunched up with worry and fear as he glared at the metalhead.

"Where is your dress?" Eddie asked looking him up and down with a raised eyebrow.

"Wh-what dress?" The tanned man asked confused. Maybe it was the concussion.

"The dress, the white dress with the blue flowers and…" The brunette closed his mouth the moment he realized he was in a room too strange to be his.

"Um, excuse me… But where the hell am I?" He looked around the room skeptically.

"Well that's a very long and funny story." Steve said with an awkward laugh.

He starts to tell Eddie everything that happened, the chicken fight in the pool, Lucas pushing him and about his concussion. Eddie sat there and listened and realized that the concussion was the thing causing the pain in his head.

"So, you're telling me it's all Sinclair's fault? Oh, I'm going to drown that little shit in the pool and…" Her rambling about her revenge was interrupted by a doctor entering the room.

"I see you're awake, we've just finished your tests and you can go home now." The old man said and went back to work.

Eventually everyone went to the living room to see their friend. Everything was normal, until you entered the room.

"Hey, Eds…" Your sweet voice reached his ears and he grinned at you.

"Hey Honey, did you miss me?" You laughed and shook your head.

"You wish, Munson." You said and gave him a crooked smile.

'I thought I was going to pass out from worrying about you, idiot'

"Oh yeah? I knew you loved me, no need to lie." His face was decorated with a shitty grin.

You frowned a little.

'What is he talking about?'

"I, Eddie Munson, am talking about you nearly passing out because you're worried about me." He replied smiling like it was obvious.

"Oh…"

'But I didn't say anything…'

If he wasn't so focused on your pretty face, he wouldn't have noticed that your mouth didn't move when you were talking to him.

Oh God.

Eddie could be dumb for a lot of things: school, not knowing the difference between an alligator and an crocodille, thinking you can hear someone's phone call if you move close to the other ear because he saw in a cartoon that ears were connected and the brain was hollow, and a bunch of other stuff.

But this, oh this was different. He's spent most of his life reading nerdy books about fantastical creatures and telepaths.

Holy shit, he could read your fucking mind! Man, this is going to be sooo much fun.

"Why are you smiling like a psycho?" You asked snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing, Sweetheart, nothing…" His sick, perverted brain was already coming to life again.

The next time Eddie could read your mind was when the two of you were in his trailer relaxing and watching some movies on Netflix.

'This guy looks like a sneaker, the shoe, not the chocolate.'

'I would like to have a chocolate now.'

'These tacos look so good, my tummy is almost talking.'

He looked at you slowly and scowled, was food the only thing on your mind?

The next interesting thing came hours later, the two of you were in his bed and he was licking a joint to smoke with you, when he suddenly stopped breathing.

'I'd like him to lick me like that too, I've never wanted to be a joint so much in my life…'

His eyes widened and a tinge of pink began to cover his cheeks and ears. Do you want him to lick you? The poor boy was already dreaming about you, in a not-so-friendly way.

The third time came like a tsunami washing over him, he wasn't prepared for what he would hear from his mind.

The whole gang was celebrating Mike's birthday and even the hellfire clube were there.

The boys were sitting around the living room table shouting and discussing something about Dungeons & Dragons when Eddie felt you sit next to him, he was used to hearing your thoughts so it was like a muffled sound for him.

"Something smells good in here."

He could feel you pressing into his side, but he paid no attention to it.

'Oh it's you! What is that? Hmmm, vanilla…Cigarettes and…Man smell? I don't know, but I like it.'

He was ready to take a sip of his Jack & Coke, the cold glass pressing against his warm, soft lips when the tsunami came crashing down on him.

'You smell so good I could eat you… Or let you eat me, or both.'

He choked on his drink and started coughing like crazy.

His already half hard cock bouncing hearing the things you were thinking of doing to him, was it too much for him, his hot best friend wanting to fuck him? Yep, he was pretty sure he'd come in his pants.

"Eds!" You started stroking his back in a gentle way and Eddie's eyes darkened as he looked at you.

It's official, Eddie Munson is totally fucked and it was head over heels for his hot best friend.

I don't know if you all know the Barbie scene I used so I'm gonna put the link to a tiktok that inpired me to put this on this blurb

Bibble talking

...

....

.....

Sacrifice for 'read more' 🙏🏻

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #dark!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddiemunson #eddie munson x f!reader #modern!eddie x reader #modern!eddie munson #darknesseddiemfics

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mignonricciardo · 2 years

Text

can't take my eyes off you | bb

this is not what I typically write about and its so off brand for me BUT seeing the new top gun brought back my childhood obsession and my miles teller crush since footloose... also my military family would actually murder me if they knew I was thirsting over fictional (and real) military men

UPDATE: part 2 is here!

reader's call sign is magnet and rooster calls you mags for short <3 the idea of singer!rooster who loves older music is everything to me

summary: the past is never really in the past, and rooster proves that when the squadron spends their first night out of uniform at the bar

notes: cursing, some angst, fluff, alcohol, allusion to a suggestive ending, this was supposed to be much shorter

The evening crowd is still trickling into the bar slowly as the bartender slides me another round. Penny is on the other side of the bartop, wiping down counters and organizing the back before the rush of rowdy pilots and their onlookers. Surely, the rest of the aviators and naval officers will be coming in soon, and I just say a prayer that Phoenix will be in the first wave of attendees. When my Budweiser bottle is down to nothing but some foam, I slide the bottle to the other end of the counter and wait for the bartender to come by with another. As I’m about to flag him down, desperate for at least one more beer before facing the rest of the squadron, I am interrupted.

“Mags,” Rooster draws out, slinging an arm around my shoulder as he leans into me.

I look to Phoenix as the man orders a round for the group, including another Budweiser. She mouths a silent I’m sorry before the man leaning on me turns to look at me.

“You came without us?” Rooster asks with a smirk, pushing his sunglasses higher up his nose.

“Needed a break from all the testosterone,” I grin at him, shrugging his arm off my shoulders.

“C’mon, I told you I was sorry, Magnet!” he calls as I walk away with the Budweiser he had given to me.

I flash him the middle finger as Phoenix follows me, and she laughs wildly as the other pilots erupt in cheering and yelling around Rooster. He stands dumbfounded, a grin playing on his lips as Fanboy slaps him on the back. I catch the grin on the bartender’s face as he reaches for the bell, and our friends watch with bated breath. When he rings the bell, the entire place erupts in cheering, and Rooster quirks an eyebrow from behind his aviators. I shrug my shoulders at him before following Phoenix toward other lieutenants from the naval base.

“They’re classier than pilots,” she grins as we approach. “I love a man that knows his way around some ropes.”

I laugh at her comment, still holding back a grin when she introduces herself to the group of naval officers. I follow her lead, relishing in the way some of their eyes linger on my curves in the sundress rather than my typical boxy look with my uniform on and hair slicked back in a tight bun. After an hour or so, Phoenix has convinced them I’ve never lost a round of pool, and it doesn’t take long for me to be leaning into the pool table with eyes focused on my target. The men around us go silent as I drain my fifth striped ball in a row, and Phoenix stands with her arms crossed and a smug look on her face. My sixth ball drifts wide, hitting the bumper and rolling to a stop centimeters from the corner, and I look to my opponent with a grin.

“Think you can play catch up?”

He nods with a smirk as he bends toward the table, firing upon a solid that lands perfectly in one of the side pockets. From across the bar, Rooster is trying not to notice how my dress hitches up every time I bend over the green table, or how my opponent’s eyes linger on my body with each of my shots. Fanboy and Payback notice Rooster zoning out as he waits for his turn at the dartboard, and Hangman chuckles as he dangles a dart in front of his face. Payback elbows Rooster in the ribs, and the pilot shakes his head to clear his brain of me bent over the pool table. He’s off with his dart, and the pack groans as Hangman hits a bullseye to win. Even with his rival’s obnoxious gloating, Rooster looks back to where the unfamiliar naval officer leans closer to me now. A uniform-clad thigh brushes against mine, and Rooster starts to walk toward the pool table without a second thought. Fanboy tries to follow, calling his name as he weaves through the crowded bar.

The 8 ball sits precariously against the corner, and just as I’m about to send the cue ball across the table, something cold brushes my arm and stops my momentum. I whip my head to the side, ready to tell off whoever broke my concentration, and even more anger festers when I see familiar aviators and a well-groomed mustache come into view. Rooster grins, sensing the annoyance radiating from me, as he wedges himself between me and my opponent.

“Brought you another,” he holds out the cold Budweiser to me. “Looked like you could use some cooling down over here.”

“She’s good, man,” my opponent speaks up, putting a hand on Rooster’s shoulder to direct him away from us.

“Clearly, she’s not,” he grins, leaning his forearms against the suede table and pointing toward a pocket with the longneck bottle. “She would’ve banked all of these in one round if she were good.”

“Go finish darts with your boys,” I huff, nudging him with my hip to get him to move. “I’m fine, Roost.”

“See man? She said she’s good,” my opponent puffs his chest out as his voice raises.

Phoenix’s eyes go wide as she senses where this is going, and she slinks away from the lieutenant she had been chatting up to be a bit closer to me in case Rooster lost his head. Rooster lets out a laugh, unphased by the man in uniform next to him.

“Mags, you know I’m right,” his voice is calm despite his cocky attitude. “Go ahead and show him. Far left corner pocket.”

I look at him trying to bite back a smirk as my anger ebbs. I should be angry with him still, but he always makes it difficult to stay mad at him. Rooster continues as I assess the shot he pointed out.

“You know why they call her Magnet?” he smiles as he tips his beer toward me. My opponent shakes his head as Rooster chuckles, “She’s always sticking to the enemy. You just can’t shake her.”

“You know why they call him Rooster?” I look back over my shoulder, grinning at the two men. “He’s a massive cock.”

My opponent looks at me, barely glancing at Rooster in between us as he laughs. The small crowd around us erupts in hollers at my comment, and I line up the shot Rooster challenged me to call. I take another glance at the logistics of the move, and my opponent notices me weighing it. He glances at Rooster as he speaks.

“Are you trying to get her to lose? That’s almost impossible,” he says. “Call it, and I win.”

“Is that a challenge, Lieutenant?” Rooster grins, knowing what is coming from me and Phoenix.

“Phoenix!” I hold back laughter as I use my best admiral impression.

My friend takes a step toward me, hand to her forehead in a knowing salute, “Yes, ma’am!”

“Remind me of how we respond to challenges from men,” I grin at her, and her cheeks puff out with laughter.

“Put them in their place, ma’am!” she continues her impression of a dutiful petty officer.

“Now, excuse me, boys,” I grin, pushing Rooster and my opponent back before bending over the table and pointing the cue to the pocket. “Far left.”

Rooster crosses his arms across his chest with a smirk, eyes flitting across my figure behind his aviators, and my opponent watches with a cocky smirk, elbowing one of his friends in a premature notion of victory. Phoenix drops her salute, and the pool cue slides over my knuckles with ease before making contact with the side of the cue ball. We all watch as the ball spins, veering toward the bumper where it ricochets across the table. It lands in the far left pocket with a resounding clink, and I stand from the side of the table looking at both Rooster and my opponent with a grin.

“That’s how it’s done, boys,” Phoenix says as I reach out for the Budweiser from Rooster’s hands, fingers brushing over the red label as he holds it out to me.

“Told you,” Rooster throws over his shoulder to my opponent who is still staring at the table in shock. “She’s good.”

“Play nice, you two,” I call over my shoulder, walking away from the table and making sure my hips sway lightly as I maneuver through the crowd.

Both Rooster and the other lieutenant watch as I walk away, and Phoenix elbows Rooster in the ribs.

“If you want her to forgive you, you need to do something else besides bring her a beer,” my friend starts. “And stop staring at her ass.”

“I was so not doing that,” he fires back at the pilot.

“Those aviators don’t hide everything, Roost,” she calls, making her way back toward the officer she had been speaking to during my victorious round of pool.

After two hours of the rowdy bar with Rooster’s eyes following me, I step outside toward the beach for some fresh air and quiet. The sand is still warm from the beating sun that has set, and I sit on one of the plush benches down from the bar. I take deep breaths as the waves crash, and after a few minutes of quiet, I hear the wooden door shut to the bar entrance behind me.

“Are you following me, Bradshaw?” I say before I even see him.

He chuckles as he sits on the beach chair across from me, “We’re on to last names now?”

I try my best to glare at him, but my anger quickly fades at his crooked smile and aviators hanging from his shirt. I graciously accept the water bottle he dangles in front of me, taking a sip before answering him.

“If that’s the only way you’ll listen to me,” I shrug, looking back to the Pacific as it crashes gently on the shore.

“Mags, listen,” his voice is quieter than before, lacking some of his usual lightheartedness.

I turn to face him, looking at his gaze that is finally free of his aviator frames. His hazel eyes look more green in the ambient light from the Hard Deck, and freckles from the California sun dot his face. I want to kick myself for noticing Rooster in front of me--for noticing him as a man rather than a friend or a pilot.

“I’m sorry, okay? You are absolutely right to be mad at me, and I see now where I screwed up.”

“I can hold my own, Rooster,” I start. “I don’t need you to try to protect me or help me out.”

“Hangman left you out to dry, and you weren’t standing up for yourself to Mav,” he says, leaning in a few inches to look at me. “I couldn’t let you take the brunt of his screw up and then the extra push-ups.”

“Why not? Because I’m a girl?” my voice is angrier than I really feel, but Rooster freezes in the wake of my words anyway.

His eyes are soft as he takes in the weight of my words, but he lets me continue instead of interrupting me, “I can take the yelling from Mav, and I can take the push-ups from Hondo. I’ve trained for this, Roost, not because someone took it easy on me.”

“I know, Mags, and I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come off that way,” he whispers, and without a thought, his fingers tuck a piece of stray hair behind my ear. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s you, Rooster! It’s because you want to stand up to Mav. You want to challenge him and prove him wrong in everything. You want to beat him,” I stare at him incredulously, butterflies in my stomach from when his fingertip barely grazed my cheek as he tucked hair back. “I know you’re still angry with him, but you need to get some perspective.”

He is silent as he sits in front of me, and out of instinct, I grab both of his hands and clutch them between mine, “He still feels guilty about your dad, and I can’t imagine how he would feel if something happened to you. Don’t you think he did what he did to try to protect you?”

“It wasn’t up to him to make that decision for me,” he whispers, eyes still locked on mine.

“Just like it’s not up to you to determine what I can and can’t take,” my voice is gentle between us. “I’m no different than you.”

His hands clutch mine as silence falls between us. The ocean crashes on the shore, and we can hear continued laughter and chatter from the bar behind us. Rooster’s chest rises and falls steadily, and I can hear his breathing in the cool sea breeze. His eyes travel across my face, lingering over my lips before coming back to my eyes.

“Not to change the subject, but if I say something out of line, are you going to beat the shit out of me?” he asks with a barely-there grin.

“I’ll make you buy me another beer,” I whisper back to him. “Depending on how out of line, you’ll owe the whole place another round.”

He drops our hands between his, and he runs one of his through his hair before they settle back in his lap in a fidget, “You look good out of uniform, Mags. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you like this.”

My cheeks turn red as I smirk, “You know Roost, I wasn’t going to say anything, but so do you. It looks like Virginia is treating you well.”

“I could say the same for you about Florida,” he laughs quietly. “Things haven’t changed since we graduated from TOP GUN together, have they?”

I shake my head, eyes meeting his as he swallows hard, “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“You still drink Budweiser and wear that jean jacket as your unofficial uniform,” he whispers quietly, fingers tracing the seam of the jacket revealing one of my shoulders. I breathe in sharply when his fingers barely graze my tanned skin. His fingers continue their path along the familiar jacket, “I still see you as a woman, even when I know I shouldn’t.”

“Bradley,” I whisper, and his eyes snap up to mine.

“Please don’t call me that, Mags, because I can’t do this again,” his voice is gentle as he pleads. “I’m wrapped around your finger, and you know it, and when you say my name like that, I can’t say no to you.”

One of my hands rests on his cheek, feeling the scruff beneath my palm and thumb resting over a cluster of freckles, “I never stopped thinking about you. You’ve been my only constant through every new assignment and relocation.”

“When I walked in here that first night, and I saw you, I should have known,” he begins, swallowing thickly. “I should have known this was going to happen.”

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, hand still pressed to his cheek. “We’ll be here together for a few weeks. We’ll flirt, and we’ll reminisce. At the end of this, we’ll move on. We always do, Rooster.”

“We might not go home this time, Magnet,” his fingers wrap around my wrist, thumb tracing up the inside of my forearm. “You heard Maverick and the admiral. I don’t want to leave anything unsaid. It has to end differently this time”

“Rooster, please,” I breathe quietly.

He watches me with gentle breaths, hanging on to whatever words are about to come from my lips. My eyes search his face frantically, trying to find the words, and they linger over his lips before flicking back to his eyes. For a moment, there is nothing but our breaths and the gentle waves on the shore. I’m leaning in toward him, lips almost brushing as I speak.

“Please just kiss me,” I whisper, and he wastes no time in closing the gap between us.

His soft lips press against mine, and my fingers take root in the short hair at the back of his head. One of his hands rests on my waist, bunching up the sundress fabric as he pulls me closer to the edge of the bench. When my lips part just enough to welcome his tongue, a loud whistle sends us jolting apart, and both of our chests heave for air.

“C’mon, lovebirds!” Phoenix calls with a smirk. “Hangman wants another karaoke competition. Better hope the whole squadron still wants to do it after seeing this.”

Fanboy stands next to her, grinning so wide his cheeks must hurt. Coyote and Payback pump their fists on the other side of the glass, and Bob sends two big thumbs up as Hangman laughs.

“Fuck,” Rooster mumbles to himself, standing from the bench. “It’s my fault, Mags.”

He stretches a hand out, pulling me up from the bench. I follow suit, feet sinking into the sand as we trudge back toward the bar. Rooster’s broad back blocks most of my view until we stop right before Phoenix and Fanboy.

“I knew you were friends from graduating together,” Fanboy grins with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t know your tongues were acquainted, too.”

“I hope you have to do 600 push-ups tomorrow,” Rooster fires at the WSO.

Phoenix grins as Rooster scowls, “We’ll use our time to figure out a name for the two of you. Magnet and Rooster don’t really mesh well.”

Rooster sighs, “Fuck both of you.”

The two giggle as Fanboy speaks up, “Seems I’m not the one being fucked tonight, Roost.”

My jaw drops at the comment from Fanboy’s mouth, and Phoenix covers her mouth to try to prevent the deep-bellied laughter falling from it. Rooster’s eyes are wide and cheeks red as he stares at the lieutenant in front of him.

“You owe everyone a round,” Rooster smirks. “Just disrespected a lady.”

Phoenix shakes her head as she furrows her brows, “If I recall, you were staring at her ass the entire time she was playing pool. That’s another round on you.”

I glare at him, and he pinches between his eyebrows, “I’m sorry, Mags. You were bent over the table in that sundress.”

“Alright, everyone inside,” I bark, pushing all three back into the bar. “I’ve been embarrassed enough for one day.”

“I thought him staring was a compliment!” Fanboy calls as I shove him into the threshold.

Rooster smacks his shoulder, “Man, shut up.”

The crowd cheers as we enter the bar, and a part of me debates crawling beneath the pool table to avoid the eyes on us. The boys clap Rooster on the back as he settles at the piano, and Coyote sends a wink my way as he calls out the term loverboy. Rooster’s fingers fly across the keys of the old piano, and he sings along loudly with Coyote and Hangman as a large group of attendees join them. I lean against the far wall, watching the ease and carefree attitudes of everyone--a welcomed sight after the tense day training with Maverick and our not-so-private kiss. I bring the beer bottle to my lips, welcoming the cool liquid as it passes, and Phoenix leans against the wall next to me.

“So, Rooster, huh?” her voice is quiet so that only I can hear her over the rambunctious singing. “It makes sense, you know.”

“It’s long and complicated,” I answer her, eyes never leaving the man behind the piano. “There’s a history.”

“He watches you, too,” she nods her hod, tossing back her own beer. “He’s been looking at you all night, but also in training. He worries about you when you go up.”

“That’s why it’ll never work,” I mumble. “He wants to protect me, but he can’t.”

“Don’t you want to do the same?” she asks, eyebrows raised.

“Emotions compromise us,” I whisper, eyes following him as he throws his head back with a laugh. “We might not come home, Phoenix. Not just this mission, but any time we go up. How can I let anything happen knowing neither of us may come home one day?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “You have to ask yourself if it’s worth it. Do you live without ever taking the chance, or do you live knowing you got to spend at least some time together? Look at Mav and Penny. Do you want to be like that if you don’t have to be?”

“You know, if this whole pilot thing doesn’t work out for you,” I grin at her, “you’ve got a future in negotiations. You’ve got a way with words.”

She chuckles, “Thanks, but I think the pilot thing is working just fine for now.”

We continue to talk in between watching our squadron sing their hearts out around the piano, clinking beers and leaning on each other. Rooster places his hands out around the crowd, bringing them lower to the keys to quiet the crowd. He grins as he locks eyes with me, and our fellow lieutenants egg him on.

“Mags, you’ve got to forgive me!” he shouts, and the crowd around him starts to cheer. “I just can’t take my eyes off of you!”

He begins to play Frankie Valli’s famous song, voice belting out the words to Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. Our squadron around him cheers wildly as they start to sing along, and my cheeks turn bright red in the ambient light of the bar. I catch Phoenix next to me, laughing as she nudges me forward from the wall. The crowd continues to carry the melody, vocalizing the brass section of the song. He grabs one of my hands, pulling me into the crowd with him as he sings.

“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night. I love you, baby. Trust in me when I say oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray, oh pretty baby. Now that I’ve found you, stay and let me love you, baby. Let me love you.”

The bar crowd provides backing vocals, and Rooster sings so loud a vein in his neck bulges as his smile embeds itself permanently on his cheeks. He spins me around as he sings, twirling me across the floor to face our squadron members before curling me back into his embrace. I laugh wildly along with him, eventually belting out the lyrics with him.

“You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you. You’d be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off you.”

His hazel eyes are crinkled in the corners as he sings, hands gripping my waist as I spin. He lets me go flying across the floor, ending up with Payback who smiles as he sings. Rooster pulls Phoenix to the floor, sending her across just as I had while Payback nudges me back toward Rooster. He continues his lively singing, eyes locked on mine as he does. I can’t stop my laughter at his over-the-top performance. He holds me out as the song comes to an end, leaning in closer than previously acceptable.

“Stay and let me love you, baby. Let me love you.”

When his note ends, I decide to make the move and close the space between us. Much to the applause of the crowd around us, they clap and cheer as Rooster and I’s lips meet in the dim bar. The kiss is brief and innocent, full of smiles and dopamine. When I break away from him, his smile is so wide that dimples appear on his cheeks.

“Rooster,” I say loud enough for only him to hear, a grin filling my face. “Take me home.”

He grins as he leans in for another kiss, breaking away and pulling me through the bar to his car in the parking lot, “Show me the way, honey.”

#top gun #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #miles teller #miles teller top gun

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newtonsheffield · 8 months

Note

Can we please see blushing all the way home for spicy Sunday!?

Okay, I probably do owe you guys this

Kate still wasn’t sure what had made her ask Anthony to come and see her in Edinburgh. Only that she’d spent every second of her spare time from the moment he’d dropped her at her doorstep in London with a soft kiss, thinking about Anthony. She’d thought about him when she sat down at the piano and a melody came to her so easily. She’d thought about him when she sat at Twickenham Stoop next to his mother, gallingly enough, wearing a Harlequins scarf. She’d known that people were whispering around her and at cameras were trained on her curiously. But it had felt so nice, watching Anthony grinning with victory, his hair sweaty when he pulled off his headgear, his chest heaving. It had shot something right through her, seeing him thrive in his environment, watching his muscles move powerfully as he ran down the pitch. Something entirely inappropriate given she was sitting beside his mother who was whispering the rules in her ear.

Kate had snuck into the changing room afterwards, watching men leave one by one before pushing inside. Anthony looked up in surprise, his hair wet from his shower, a towel tied low on his hips. Her eyes were glued to his chest for a long moment, his biceps flexed as he ran his hands through his hair.

“I um… how did you get in here?”

Kate shrugged, “I’m Kate Sharma.”

Anthony raised his eyebrows, “I… know, we’ve met.”

He rolled her eyes, “I can pretty much get in wherever I want.”

Anthony grinned, pulling his shirt over his head, “Lucky me.”

“I had fun today, with your Mum-”

“I’m sorry about that, she did say she might not be able to make it today and then she surprised me.”

Kate shrugged, “I liked seeing you do your thing. It was kind of… sexy.”

His eyes brightened, and he took a step towards her, “Really?”

Her hand twisted in The front of his shirt, pulling him down until their lips met gently and heat coiled in the pit of her stomach. “Really.”

“I want to see you again.” He said gently, his arms still around her waist and her chest ached for how settled she felt already with him.

“I’m… kicking off shows in Scotland. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t be sorry for that.”

“You could always… come meet me there?”

Anthony’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh!”

“I know you’ve seen the show before, you don’t have to watch it but you could drive up, we could hang out after.”

Anthony scoffed, resting his chin on the top of her head, “Come on, I want to see you do your thing too. You’re incredible.”

Part of her hadn’t really believed when she’d told the security guard at the back door of the stadium that he would come. Even when he took a video of himself in his Range Rover, sunglasses on smiling as her voice blasted through the stereo, one of her tour shirts on his chest, she’d told herself not to get her hopes up. She’d even been a little surprised when Sophie had walked into her dressing room,

“Anthony Bridgerton is here.”

Kate had felt Mary’s eyes on her when she cleared her throat, “Oh, um, yeah. I had a ticket set aside for him, but he can come back here first.”

“Things are going well with him.” Mary hummed, “You’re happy.”

Kate nodded, trying not to think about it, “Yeah, um… he’s very sweet I… like him a lot, actually.”

“And is he… our…? Boyfriend?”

She shrugged, her cheeks burning, “He’s… we’ll see.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest when Anthony appeared with a bouquet of flowers, smiling nervously. He seemed at ease when he met Mary, nervous but comfortable in this new space, his arm around her waist.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re a real smooth talker.”

Anthony blushed a little, “I’m just… very excited to see you again.”

Kate cleared her throat, “I um… I saved you a seat in one of the boxes. It’s a pretty good seat, I think.”

Anthony blinked at her, “Oh, is it cool if I just watch you from backstage? Then I can see you in your little breaks.”

She stared at him, her stomach swooping. “Yeah, if you want to hang out with my Mum and Sophie?”

Anthony grinned, “I want to hang out with you, and I’m pretty sure your Mum will have some very cute pictures of you learning the piano.”

She could still feel the buzz of adrenaline as the crowds roared behind her when she walked offstage for the final time and her stomach flipped when she saw Anthony smiling at her, holding out a towel.

“Hey.” She said a little awkwardly as she dabbed the sweat off her brow. “Did you have fun?”

“Hey?” Anthony chuckled, “Hey? You’re going to be that casual after just… proving to me again that you’re… literally the greatest performer I’ve ever seen?”

Her cheeks flushed with the praise, but she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Thanks,”

“Kate, honey,” Mary hummed, kissing her cheek, “You were incredible, but I’m going back to the hotel, it’s late for an old woman. Does… your friend need a car called?”

Anthony’s hand tightened on Kate’s hip and he sent her a questioning look, no force behind it, no judgement.

Kate rolled her eyes at her mother’s very pointed exit, “I um… actually think Anthony and I are gonna hang out back at the hotel.”

“Are we?” Anthony gasped and Kate bit back a curse.

“Yes. And he drove here so… we’re good.” She turned to Sophie, “You can take my car back.”

Anthony waisted like a gentleman insistently in the hallway while she changed her clothes and something about it, despite the fact that she was inviting him back to her hotel was so endearing it made a lump appear in her throat.

Anthony held his hand out when she slipped out of the room, smiling at her and it made her heart pound. Just like it had when they’d sat on the grass in that garden and she’d thought how easy it would be to fall in love with him. She’d thought the same when she’d lain in bed and her eyes drooped but neither of them wanted to hang up the phone.

His hand was gentle on her thigh as they made their way through the traffic and she could feel her skin prickling at such a simple touch. Gentle and soft and reassuring.

“Where’s my little buddy?”

“He’s back at the hotel, probably snoring away by now.”

Anthony chuckled, “Bless him.”

She cleared her throat, “I um… Sorry that we haven’t been able to spend a lot of time together.”

Anthony’s brow furrowed, “I… Kate, you’re busy. I knew what I was getting into when I asked you out. You’re successful and I’m sure you’ve been with plenty of guys that needed you to coddle their ego but that’s not me. I’m confident with who I am, and I don’t need you to make yourself smaller for me.”

She wasn’t sure what to say, she wasn’t sure of anything but the way that made her stomach burn for him. She waited until he pulled to a stop at the valet stand before she reached over, tilting his chin down. His lips were soft under hers but his kiss built slowly, the heat in her stomach growing and growing until-

“We should get out of the car for this.” Anthony gasped, his forehead pressed against hers.

“Yeah, let’s get out of the car.”

She was sure people stared at them, as they made their way into the hotel with Anthony’s arm around her shoulders and the hood of her sweatshirt pulled over her head and made their way to the lift, flanked by security.

“You can leave us here, thanks. Have a nice night, guys.” Kate said before the lift doors closed and then they were alone again.

“You know…” Anthony mused, his lips pressed against her neck. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had sex when a staff of… fifteen know about it.”

Kate chuckled, letting her hands run through his hair, pulling him closer. “Technically my mum isn’t staff.”

He laughed and the sound vibrated against her “Fourteen then. My apologies.”

“and why are you so sure we’re going to have sex?” She spun in his arms and watched his face go pale and his mouth drop open.

“I’m… so fucking sorry. You said hang out and then you kissed me and I thought- Fuck.”

She laughed, and pulled him down until her lips met his again, her tongue tangling slowly with his. “I’m just fucking with you. We’re having sex.”

The lift door opened and Anthony looked dazed as she lead him out into the room. Anthony let out a low whistle as he looked around. “This is fancy.”

Kate nodded, pulling off her sweatshirt. “Yeah, It’s… a lot I get that but I spend a lot of time travelling and I just want to be comfortable I guess.”

“You have a piano in here. Like an actual bloody grand piano.”

“It’s just a baby grand.”

“Oh, it’s just a baby grand.” Anthony teased, his hand cupping her cheek.

“I never ask for a piano, there’s just… always one in here when I get here. Good for writing I guess.”

“Will you play me something?” His eyes were gentle, “Something no one else has heard yet.”

Her stomach churned when she thought of the song she’d written for him. Only half done. “Maybe later.”

She let her hands trail down his chest, her fingers twisting in the hem. Anthony’s breath shuddered in his chest, “Later’s good for me.”

His lips met hers again, that same kiss, building slowly, heat licking at her stomach as the tension grew between them. His hands slid to her thighs and tugged her legs around his waist as she tugged his shirt over his head. He shivered under her touch as he walked them through the room, giggle rising in their chests as they bounced off walls, and Anthony tripped over his sneakers. He dropped her gently on the bed, staring down at her hungrily. He stepped towards her but Kate shook her head.

“Jeans off.”

Anthony hesitated, squinting one eye. “I… would like to do that. But… I’m not wearing any underwear and I don’t want you to think I’m a creep.”

Kate blinked, “O…K?”

“I just… am not a jocks guy outside of my matches.”

“Okay.” Kate clicked her tongue, adding it to the list of things she knew about him, “Pants off.”

She tugged at her shirt, pulling it over her head as Anthony hurriedly shimmied out of his jeans, kicking them off awkwardly to the side. He was bare in front of her, his hands on his hips as her eyes raked over him.

“So… this is me.”

Kate chuckled, marvelling a little at how she didn’t feel self conscious at all, with Anthony’s eyes staring hungrily at her “I like you.”

“You’re… very very beautiful.” Anthony breathed, his fingers twitching in her direction. “And I like you a lot.”

“Do you maybe want to come over here then?”

“Yes.” It was nearly a groan and his hands were warm on her hips as he tugged her forward and his knee pressed between her legs. Her fingers twisted in his hair and tugged his lips down to crash against hers again. His tongue slipped over hers, and her chest felt tight as his weight settled on top of her, comforting and soft and somehow still so powerful. She ground against the friction of his thigh and swallowed Anthony moan on her tongue. She let her teeth nip at his throat as it bobbed with his convulsive swallow.

“Fuck, do you have any idea how much I want this?”

The rasp in his voice made her spine shiver and she nodded as his fingers trailed up her thigh, warm and a little rough. “I hope as much as I do. It’s pretty much all I’ve thought about.”

Anthony, tilting her chin so their lips met again, rougher this time, filthier, their teeth clashing, gasps rising in their chests as his fingers slipped between her legs.

“Is this okay, Babe?”

She bit back the whimper that rose in her chest, holding him closer as her hips rocked against his hand, “Yes, yeah, it feels so good.”

His smile was so beautiful, even as he swallowed at the feeling of her, he encouraged her to rock against his hand, the muscles in his arms flexing under her hands as her fingernails bit into his skin. Heat was curling tighter and tighter in her stomach, her breath gasping against him, eyes screwed shut against him.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle and her eyes flew open to find him staring down at her, “Look at me.”

That was all it took for her to fall apart, a gasp falling from her lips as she shuddered against him. Anthony pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before he raised his fingers to his lips, his tongue wrapping around them. Kate moaned and Anthony let out a satisfied hum.

“I need to try that later.”

“I thought I was going to play for you later.” Kate chuckled, finding his lips again.

“Two birds one stone.” Anthony grinned. He tugged her up with him s he sat up, encouraging her to straddle him as his lips fell to her neck. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“A few times actually. I don’t think I’ve told you how handsome you are though.”

“Oh well, I’m listening now.”

She chuckled, swallowing Anthony’s moan as their hips ground together and Kate let out a muffled curse at the feel of him. The muscles of his stomach twitched under her hands and she tried to keep her voice even, “I really wasn’t ever into rugby guys.”

Anthony tried to raise his eyebrow but he shuddered as their hips met again, “Is that so?”

“That is so.”

“What about now?”

It wasn’t enough anymore, just grinding together, not for either of them, she could feel him holding back how desperate he was for it. “I think they’re growing on me.”

Anthony let out a strangled noise as they joined together, his fingers biting into the soft skin of her thighs and his eyes fluttered closed as his hips snapped forward and whatever air was left in her lungs disappeared. Anthony cheeks were flushed and sweat was beading on his forehead as they moved together, something more than the physicality of it growing between them. Anthony buried his fingers in her hair, pressing their foreheads together as his body started to shake and the moment stretched on between them. She could feel her thighs shaking and her entire body was on fire as their lips met again and again and-

“Oh fuck, Anthony!”

“Kate!”

They fell over the edge and Anthony fell back, Kate collapsing in a heap against his chest.

“I think I like Rugby players now.” Kate heaved and anything soft and warm fluttered in her stomach as Anthony chuckled.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Super sexy thighs.”

#why can I not write spice without an entire story first?#blushing all the way home #spicy sunday🌶️#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #kathony fic #bridgerton fic

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capturethechaos · 11 months

Text

Masterlist

Request - set in the 70s | meeting as the best friends/wingmen/chaperones of their two friends who want to go out together, but not alone | “You getting so flustered is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.” | sailboat

Words - 2.3k

Warnings - None! It's pure fluff ♡

“Do you want to tell it or should I?”

“You tell it, darling, you always make it sound so much better than I ever could.”

“Alright.” You turned to look as your family surrounded the crackling fire, settling in chairs, or sitting on blankets in the grass to listen. “It was the summer of nineteen seventy-four…”

“He has a boat?”

“His best friend has a boat.”

“So that's why I have to come along.” You turned, looking at your best friend from over the frame of your sunglasses. “Because his best friend is the one with the boat.”

Angie simply smiled, turning as the roar of an engine stole her attention. You could see the baby blue Mustang in your peripheral as it turned onto your street, but your focus remained on your best friend. You couldn’t help but smile at the way her own grin brightened when she caught sight of the man behind the wheel.

When your eyes lifted to the car, it wasn’t the curly-haired driver that they landed on. Instead you found your focus lingering on the man in his passenger's seat, tracing over the features of his face as he turned to look at you and Angie. His skin was glowing beneath the rays of the sun, and his laughter roared over the purr of the engine as Danny slowly pulled up to the curb.

You weren’t one to be charmed often, but watching as the two men got out of the car and made their way over to you and Angie, smoothing out their clothing as they walked, you had a warm feeling you hadn’t felt in a long while. A hand was held out for you, an offer of assistance as the tall man stopped at your feet. He lifted his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head, pushing back the loose pieces of hair that had fallen out of his bun. “You must be Y/n, my name is Sam.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Your hand lifted to rest on top of his. “You must be the best friend I’ve heard nothing about.”

You were a bit surprised at the strength that came from his somewhat scrawny frame as he lifted you from the stair you had been seated on. “Nothing about me, huh.” He turned to Danny, mocking offense as he opened his mouth to speak once again. “Daniel, you let this poor woman come all this way without even letting her know that I’m a blood sucking monster, how could you.”

Danny chuckled and rolled his eyes, effectively breaking the little facade Sam was putting on by making him laugh. “I’m only kidding. Nothing about me though, really?”

A simple nod of your head gave him all the answer he desired, and he simply hummed as the two of you made your way over to the car. “That’s alright, guess that means I get to tell you all the silly little details myself.”

Sam led you around the back of the car, and gave you a soft smile as he pulled the door open for you. You offered a smile in return as you lowered yourself into the seat. “Sounds like a plan, Sam.”

He waited until you were settled into your seat, with your seatbelt on before he gently shut the door, walking past Danny as he opened the opposite door for Angie. The two of you shared a look as the boys got into their own seats, and Danny started the car, a quiet giggle coming from her as you tried your hardest to communicate your thoughts of ‘you didn’t tell me his best friend was hot’ with her.

The car ride was surreal, watching as the world passed by you, the wind whirling through loose strands of hair that you hadn’t managed to tuck into the bandana you had tied around your head. You found yourself staring at Sam a few times, your gaze lingering as your eyes studied the features of his face. You had gotten a peak at his eyes when he introduced himself to you, they were hidden now behind the lenses of his sunglasses. The frames rested on the bridge of his nose, and your eyes continued down, falling to the fullness of his lips as he conversed with Danny.

The two men were the first out of the car when you arrived at the docks, each making their way around the car to open the doors for you and Angie. It was a short walk from the car to the boat, and you stood for a moment in awe at the beauty of the vessel in front of you. Danny helped Angie onto the boat, beginning to show her around as you continued to stand and stare.

“You’re not afraid of boats are you?”

You turned, your brows furrowed slightly as your eyes landed on Sam. He was standing beside you, his head tilted to look at you.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that of course… I was just wondering because you’ve just been standing here staring at it for a few minutes.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you at his worry, and you shook your head. “Not afraid, simply admiring. This is a beautiful boat.”

His expression quickly changed, a beaming grin breaking out on his lips as he turned from you to his boat, then back to you. “Well, I’d love to give you a tour if you’d do me the honor.”

He stepped closer to the edge of the dock, holding out his hand to help you step onto the vessel. You gratefully accepted, wrapping your hand around his as you stepped onto the boat. From there you watched as he disconnected the boat from the dock before stepping on himself.

The further from land you got, the more at peace you felt. The only noises around you being the soft crashing of small waves against the hull, and the faint sound of Angie and Danny talking on the opposite side of the boat.

“So.” Your attention drifted from the water at the sound of his voice, and you turned to watch as Sam leaned against the wheel. “You from around here?”

“The ocean? No, I can't say I’m too familiar with the area.”

He chuckled, lifting the sunglasses from his face to better reveal the crinkles beside his eyes as he smiled. “Very funny. I meant from California.”

“I know what you meant.” You leaned back against the railing, tilting your head back to bask in the warmth of the sun. “No, actually, I was raised in Portland.”

He hummed and quirked an eyebrow at you. “Portland, huh. What brought you to California?”

Your head lulled forward, your gaze meeting his own. “Angie. She convinced me to move down the coast with her the summer after we turned eighteen.”

Sam slowly nodded, offering no verbal response, so you decided to ask a question of your own. “What about you, Sam? Are you from around here?”

“Not in the slightest, I was born and raised in Frankenmuth.” Your brows furrowed as you tried to recall where the hell that was, and he simply chuckled. “Michigan.”

Your head slowly lifted from the railing behind you, a quizzical look painted across your features as you lowered your sunglasses to get a better look at him. His own eyebrows lifted as he took in your expression. “What’s with the look?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged as you spoke, a small smile playing on your lips. “Just seems like you fit this kind of life so well, you know?”

His lips slowly turned to a smirk as he stepped away from the wheel. “I don’t actually, but I’d love to hear you explain it to me while I get this boat anchored.”

“I don’t know exactly how to explain it.” You watched as he moved fluidly around the boat, every action seemingly happening without worry or forethought, like every step he took was second nature to him. “You just seem like the type that belongs on or near the ocean.”

He stopped what he was doing, turning to you with a smirk on his lips. “And you’re basing this mostly on my appearance, yes?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him and shrugged. “Can you blame me? You’re wearing a barely buttoned shirt and shorts that have an inseam about two inches shorter than I’ve seen on any other man I’ve met.”

He smiled, stepping closer to you with a confident look painted across his features. “You should see me in the woods, I’m quite the resourceful guy.”

“Oh yeah?”

He inched closer until his body was mere inches from your own, and his eyes remained locked on your own. “I sure hope so. Would’ve sucked for my parents to have sent me to boy scouts and for me to have not learned anything.”

“A boy scout.” A playful grin fought its way onto your lips, and he couldn’t help his gaze from flickering between your eyes and your lips. “I should’ve guessed.”

Sam’s lips parted, the words caught on the tip of his tongue, but before he had the chance to speak Danny called to the two of you from the front of the boat. You followed close behind as Sam led the way over to your friends, and you were welcomed by the sight of Danny and Angie lounging on a blanket with an assortment of snacks and drinks laid out in front of them.

It was peaceful for a while as the four of you sat beneath the warm sun rays, snacking and chatting away the afternoon. Angie made a comment about wanting to dip her toes in the water to cool off, and Danny agreed, leaving you and Sam strewn out across the various blankets and cushions that had been laid out.

For a while the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, but you could feel the weight of his stare as you basked in the glow of the sun. Slowly, you tilted your head in his direction, looking over your sunglasses to catch him as his eyes remained locked on your relaxed frame. “You've been staring at me for a while now, what are you thinking about?”

“Just admiring the view.”

The words slipped so freely from his lips, drifting towards you and painting a crimson blush across your cheeks. You watched as his lips turned up on one side into a satisfied smirk, and he sat up properly to free his hand from beneath him.

“I’ll be honest.” He reached forward, plucking a grape from the vine and lifting to his lips, he halted movement before the small purple berry could pass through the plump flesh. “You getting so flustered is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

As if the blistering heat of the sun wasn’t leaving you pink as a petal already, his words were causing the blush that had appeared on your cheeks to travel, leaving your neck and chest in the same shade of pink. The smirk he had been wearing grew to a proud grin, clearly enjoying just how flustered he was able to make you feel.

You fought to regain your composure, sitting up and pushing the sunglasses back up your nose as you reached for a bottle of water. “Wipe that smile off your face or I will.”

His smile somehow got wider, and he cocked an eyebrow, lifting a hand to his face to lower his sunglasses, eyeing you from over the wire frame. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

The two of you slipped back into a pleasant quiet, occasionally catching one another trying to sneak glances at one another. You could just barely see Danny and Angie on the other end of the boat, leaning against one another with their legs dangling over the edge to meet the cool water.

“You know… it has become increasingly obvious that the two of them planned this to set us up.”

Sam chuckled at your words, tilting his head to look at you. “I think you’re right.” His expression became pensive for a moment before a small smirk grew on his lips. “So, did it work? Are you head over heels for me yet?”

You hummed, fighting back the smile that was fighting to break out on your lips. “Hmm… don’t know if I’d go that far just yet, but I don’t think I’d say no to a date if you were to ask.”

Sam looked mildly baffled by your admission, but the smirk on his face quickly turned to a smile. You watched as he contemplated for a moment, but as he went to say something, Angie interrupted, calling the two of you to join her and Danny to watch the sunset.

Sam lifted himself from the blanket first, offering a hand to help you from the blanket before leading the way towards your friends. You joined them on the end of the boat, dipping your toes into the water and turning to smile at Angie as Sam settled into the spot next to you.

The sun slowly painted the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks, and as the four of you sat appreciating the beauty of what you were watching, Sam’s fingers brushed against your own. Your hand tingled from the touch, a sensation that brought goosebumps to your skin. His fingers danced with yours for a few prolonged moments before he moved to wrap his hand around your own. Your fingers entangled with his, and when your eyes flickered over to look at him, he eyes were locked on your intertwined hands, and he had a blush blooming across his sun kissed cheeks.

As if he could feel your stare, he looked up, locking eyes with you. His lips held a genuine, glowing grin, and he gently squeezed your hand. You gave his hand an equally gentle squeeze before the two of you looked back at the setting sun.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this event, fill out the taglist form! (Some tags do not work, please double check that you've got tags on, and that your username is correct, and send me a dm, I will try to get them fixed ♡ )

@gretavanbitches @antipityparty @sparrowofthedawnsworld @gretavanslut-blog @gold-mines-melting @streamingcolors-gvf @malany-gvf @stardustcatcher @amouratomique @welightthefire @MyLeftSock @the-starcatcher @joshysgirl @fallonfatality @lipstickitty @gvfungi @wetkleenex-gvf @starshine-wagner @mackalah @xserenax-13 @sunandthemoontwinflames @sicksadandrad @dannyandthekiszkas @whorefourjakekiszka @bubblyjake @mamalikes-gvf @joshkiszkasjoops @sarakay-gvf @gretasmokerising @josh-iamyour-mama @hellowgoodbye @brumlb

#in the heat of a gvf summer #greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet imagine #sam kiszka #sam gvf #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka imagine

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from-memphis-with-love · 1 year

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Songbird Chapter 1 - The Handsome Stranger

Pairing: Elvis x female OC (Valerie Pedretti)

Word count: 2,500

Warnings: None!

Summary: Valerie Pedretti is a quiet, unassuming girl of 22 with little money but a lot of heart who just so happens to turn into a force of nature when she sings. A chance encounter with Elvis in an elevator at the International Hotel changes her life forever, for good and bad.

Las Vegas, Nevada, 1969

Valerie Pedretti was not at all prepared to meet Elvis Presley.

If you had told her she would soon come face to face with the biggest star on the planet, she would have probably laughed in your face. Then, if she realized you were actually serious, she would have at least wanted to look nice. Without question, she’d have spent hours in the front of her tiny, chipped robin’s egg blue vanity primping and preening and making sure her nails were a beautiful crimson red.

Then, she’d have slipped into a knit wrap dress to accentuate her waist or something flirty like that and made sure her ink black locks were curled into place. Her face would be painted to meticulous perfection, having obsessed over every flick of eyeliner, pump of mascara, and swipe of strawberry pink gloss.

In that alternate reality, Valerie Pedretti would've met Elvis looking every bit the star that he was. But life, with its unpredictable turns, had other plans.

Instead, she found herself dressed for comfort in her oldest and rattiest pair of jeans, her hair a tangled mess on top of her head, and she’d been schlepping, with great difficulty, what seemed like the two largest suitcases known to man. She thought her face must have been horrifying, what with the dark circles under her eyes and the sleep-smudged mascara running halfway down her cheeks. Val, as her friends lovingly called her, wanted nothing more than to dart out of the airport, peel off her sweat-slicked clothing, plop into her hotel bed, and start fresh tomorrow.

It had been a horrendously long day. A simple six-hour flight to Vegas turned into a 19-hour odyssey thanks to inclement weather. On the cab ride to the hotel, she didn’t even care to look at the lights illuminating the strip. Normally, her eyes would have been peeled, taking in all the sights and sounds of Sin City as they flashed by the window and melded into one big neon strobe. Instead, she lay her exhausted head down against the inside of the doorframe and drifted off to sleep. Before she knew it, she was shaken awoke by the gruff cabby, drool pooling at the side of her mouth. So attractive.

“International Hotel,” he grunted, his voice an ice bath to her face. As if on autopilot, Valerie stuffed a few crinkled bills into his hands and spilled out onto the hotel's paved entryway in a crumpled, tired heap. The fluorescent bulbs were absolutely blinding, and she felt the rumblings of a searing headache. She fingered inside her purse, hoping to find her sunglasses, and almost broke into tears of joy when she realized she'd remembered to bring them with her. The sweet promise of sleep propelled her legs forward as she pushed the doors open to another world. An arctic blast of air conditioning greeted her. It sent a chill across her sweat-soaked back, making her already uncomfortable clothes feel like shards against her body.

It was 11 pm, but you'd never know it by the comings and goings in the cavernous, opulent lobby. Smartly dressed men walked arm in arm with elegant women decked out in sequined gowns and impressive bouffant hairdos. It seemed as if everyone was either puffing on cigars or sipping on zippy little cocktails and she could scarcely see more than 10 feet in front of her for all the smoke. Impeccably uniformed bellmen milled about while friendly, peppy reservation agents stood at the ready behind a gigantic marble check-in desk.

As she moved closer into the foyer and her eyes adjusted to the light that even her sunglasses couldn’t dim, she realized there were Elvis banners, pennants, and signs everywhere. Shit, was it his opening weekend? If only she could afford a ticket! The people buzzing around must have been fans, mingling in every corner of the lobby and all over the first floor of the hotel. Their elegant clothing belied an excited boisterousness, and the energy in the room was absolutely electric. Standing there holding her meager belongings and looking decidedly out of place in her t-shirt and Robert Clergerie knockoffs, she felt as if she’d been plucked from Long Island and dumped on Mars. Scanning the crowd of revelers in their finery, her clothes had never felt so threadbare.

Even though music was her life, Valerie didn’t have the money to spend on concerts, nor was she the type of person to ask for charity to do so. Her gentle presence caused some to underestimate her and, moving through life with a calm and quiet grace, she often blended into the background. But her soft-spoken voice belied a deep steadiness within (not to mention a wicked sense of humor), and the kind of resolve one attains only from truly having struggled. With her doll-like features and tendency to speak only when she deemed it absolutely necessary, it was easy to mistake her for a fragile and delicate creature. But there was a depth of strength lying just beneath the surface, for Valerie Pedretti’s life had been anything but easy.

Born to a single mother who struggled to make ends meet, Valerie often found herself bouncing from one apartment to another in search of that which eluded her little family most, stability. Her mother worked long hours as a waitress, leaving Valerie home alone for much of the day. The radio became Valerie’s constant companion, and she learned to channel her pain, her hunger, and her uncertainty, into singing. She never knew when her next meal was coming, but she could always depend on her voice to carry her through the bad times.

Ah, her voice. It was a thing of beauty, a rare gift that she honed and fine-tuned to stunning perfection. When Valerie sang, her quiet exterior crumbled to bits, transforming her into a thundering force of nature that could shake the rafters. Transmitting a power that was both breathtaking and awe-inspiring, Valerie’s voice left listeners in a state of bewilderment, for nobody thought it possible that so much power could come from someone so little.

At seventeen, she dropped out of school to work full-time, toiling away scrubbing floors and flipping pancakes just to help her mom keep the lights on. But even though her weary bones ached and her spirit was tired, her inner light wasn’t entirely dimmed. Valerie refused to give up on her dream of becoming a singer. I’m going to see this through, she told herself as she recorded some songs on her neighbor’s tape deck and sent them away into the ether with a prayer.

She spent every spare moment rehearsing and writing her own music, and took every odd job related to singing that was made available to her. Any gig was a good one, whether it was singing a jingle for a supermarket or working as a session singer on one-off contracts. One day, she��d even gotten the call to audition for Frank Sinatra in Las Vegas. Well, technically, she didn’t get the call. It was her friend Deena who did, but she’d come down with mono. Nevertheless, this was her shot, and she was going to make the best of it—come hell or high water.

Someone walking by spilled their drink on her sleeve, and this brought her back to reality. Weaving through the crowd, Valerie found her way to the check-in desk. She cleared her throat.

“I’d like to check in, please.”

“What’s the name of the reservation?”

“Val—uh, Deena Lovelace.”

The blonde woman with a pixie cut whose nameplate said Brenda thumbed the appointment book and, after what seemed like an agonizing wait, found her tired guest’s name. “I’ve got you! You’re in room 2106. Just a moment, please.” She headed into the back to retrieve the key, and Valerie swayed from side to side in order to stay awake.

In an instant, weighty keys were plunked into her hands. Avoiding direct eye contact, she turned on her heel and hoofed it for her room. The hotel was a dizzying array of turns—this way and that—and in her tired stupor, it reminded her of a twisting maze. Her thudding, ungainly steps were muffled by both the shag carpet and the din of the fans congregating in the reception area.

However, as she continued her journey, the ambiance gradually shifted. The hum of voices grew fainter, replaced by an overwhelming silence that signaled she was far from the bustling core of the hotel. Finally, she found herself in a secluded spot, standing alone in front of an elevator. She pressed the button and waited, arms aching from the weight of her bulging valises. Inner Valerie cursed herself for packing way too much.

With no effort at all, she slipped out of her heels and bent her toes backwards and forwards, allowing her feet to relish the feel of the carpet below. It was soft, springy, and just what her aching soles needed. On instinct, she began singing a familiar, yet nameless tune—just a few absentminded bars of sweet little sounds to make the time pass. Notes she’d always turned to when she needed comfort. The thought of washing her face and jumping into bed was the only thing on her mind as the golden doors opened with a tinny ding, only half-startling her out of her exhausted stupor.

The light emanating from the gilt cabin was so intense she hadn’t realized there were people inside. As her eyes adjusted, she quickly shoved her feet back into her shoes, feeling like a complete mess.

"Evening, miss," greeted a man with a shock of red hair and a face peppered with freckles. He held the elevator door with a gesture of gentlemanly politeness, his eyes twinkling with warmth. As she stepped inside, he turned his attention to his companion. The contrast between them was stark.

Beside the redhead in white stood a tall, lean man, exuding an air of effortless elegance. He was dressed head-to-toe in black: sleek trousers, a crisply tailored shirt, and a sharp tuxedo jacket that hung perfectly on his lithe, powerful frame. The one pop of color came from a chic scarf looped around his neck, its pink, black, and white patterns accentuating his perfectly tanned skin. His raven-black hair, styled to perfection, gleamed like quicksilver in the elevator's light. But what really gave him away were the expensive-looking horn-rimmed sunglasses perched atop a flawlessly sculpted nose.

Valerie didn't need a second glance. Even with those sunglasses on, there was no mistaking him. His images, large and in living color, adorned the walls of the hotel's lobby. Everywhere she looked downstairs, his face stared back, and now, she was sharing an elevator with him.

Every ounce of self-awareness about her disheveled appearance vanished instantly, eclipsed by the sheer magnitude of his aura. Her eyes widened to an almost cartoonish extent, and she found herself involuntarily scanning him with exaggerated deliberation—starting from his polished shoes, moving upwards past tailored seams, and culminating at the crown of his meticulously styled hair.

If only he could've peered behind her sunglasses, he'd have seen a gaze not just of surprise, but of utter disbelief. Valerie had never met anyone famous before, let alone a celebrity of his magnitude.

The man she recognized as Elvis leaned casually against the elevator’s plush wall. His observant eyes, always used to the spotlight, now turned their attention to her. He took in her slumped shoulders and the subtle signs of fatigue etched into her features as she leaned into the far wall across from him.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you, honey?” His voice, usually filled with the charisma of a performer, now carried an undertone of genuine warmth and concern. It startled Valerie.

She nodded, feeling her heart rate pick up. "I—uh, yeah. No. I mean, yes. S-something like that." She cursed at herself for not being as eloquent as she wanted to.

"Hey,” he soothed. “I get it.” He flashed a smile that seemed to blind her in the already bright cabin. "My name is Elvis, and this here is Red. And who might you be, honey?"

Her intuition was right—it really was him. As if he needed any introduction. A warm blush colored her cheeks. "Valerie," she murmured, her eyes darting downwards. “My name is Valerie.” A small sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw her shoes snugly in place on her feet and not in her hands.

"Val-e-rie," Elvis repeated, rolling the name over his tongue—savoring every syllable. "That's a beautiful name. Are you in town for a show?"

Valerie shook her head. "Technically, yes. Well, no. Just an audition," she replied, her heart thundering in her ears. Her pulse quickened. She wondered if its rhythmic beats were audible.

“Who for?”

“Frank Sinatra.”

“Too bad. Could’ve used a pretty little voice like yours in my show. Never hurts to have another one,” he chuckled, his eyes dancing with mischief and warmth behind his tinted sunglasses. "Well, I'm sure you'll knock 'em dead," Elvis said, chuckling softly. "You have a lovely voice, I can tell."

Suddenly, Valerie’s cheeks scorched and her throat felt tight. "How do you know that?" she managed to stammer.

Elvis laughed again. "Well, darling, I have a sixth sense about these things," he said. "Plus, I heard you humming just as the door opened. You're just a li’l songbird, ain’t you?"

As Valerie tried to process what was happening, her breath grew rapid and shallow. Every ounce of air she inhaled seemed charged with energy. Here was Elvis Presley, the King of Rock and Roll, not more than three feet from her face, complimenting her voice and giving her a nickname on the spot! She was floored.

Before she could give an answer, Elvis extended a graceful hand and took hers in his. His cold rings practically smoked upon touching the searing heat of her flushed skin. And just as the elevator doors began to part, revealing his floor, Elvis leaned in and whispered with heartfelt sincerity. “Give it your all tomorrow. I’ve got a feeling they’re in for a treat. Knock ‘em dead, songbird.” Valerie shivered. She thought she saw the slightest glimpse of a smirk on his lips.

Then, wordlessly, he smoothly, almost teasingly, stepped out of the elevator alongside Red. All that remained was a cloud of heady, spicy cologne. So utterly captivated and dizzied by the overwhelming rush of the brief encounter was Valerie that she found herself leaning against the elevator’s cold wall for support, lest her legs give out and she crumple to the floor. “What was that?” she muttered to herself in disbelief, frantically pressing the button for her floor. As she ascended, her ragged breaths slowly returned to normal. Her body, coiled like a spring, gradually loosened. Warmth dissipated from between her legs.

It was the first time that Elvis Presley and Valerie Pedretti would meet, but it would be the last time he would ever forget her. Little did they both know that their paths would cross again, in a way that would change both of their lives forever. But for now, Valerie was content to sink into her hotel bed and dream of the handsome stranger she had met in the elevator.

-------------- Tagging you all, because who else would I be without an obsessive rewrite that I wanna show you all? @aliengoth3 @arrolyn1114 @basicpresleygirl @be-my-ally @butler-on-beale-street @buckyysdoll @babylovepresley @ccab @devilsflowerr @dirtyelvisfant4sy @damcoquette @elvislittleone @ellie-24 @foreverdolly @gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @heartbrake-hotel @if-i-can-dream-of-elvis @j-v-9-2 @kendralavon7 @kaiistheguy @loving-elvis @missmaywemeetagain @notstefaniepresley @polksalademma @presleyhearted @thatbanditqueen @whatstruthgottodowithit @whositmcwhatsit @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @vintageshanny @lookingforrainbows @prompted-wordsmith @samfangirls @powerofelvis

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis fans #elvis x oc #songbird

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sandcobangevent · 20 days

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had so much fun working on this with @anmaje , who has written an amazing fic!!

The Inscrutable Case of Mariana “mrs. Hudson” Ametxazurra

Archie trotted happily down Baker Street, with John in tow. His morning walk had been entirely eventful. Not only had he bolted about the new scents of spring flowers in Regent Park, Sherlock had joined them! His morning walks were usually a little more restrained as Mariana would keep him on his leash, but this morning she had frowned when John let him down the stairs to 221a and apologised that she was busy.

“I can’t believe you haven’t noticed!” John said. Sherlock fell into step with him.

“I’m not omniscient, Watson. Mrs. Hudson's behaviour does not take up vast amounts of my observational practice.” He pushed his sunglasses securely up his nose and continued. “She’s been focused, happy, and her work is as superb as usual. What else is there to observe?”

“The happy bit!” John slowed down as they approached the flat. “She’s been smiling at her computer- and her phone. It’s not like her.” He slowed to a halt before the door. Archie scratched to be let in.

“What? She likes her job. Is being happy at work weird?”

“No- well. Depends on the work I suppose, but it’s different. She’s more so than usual.” John shot his friend a pleading glance. “Just please be observant.”

“Would you expect me to be anything-” Sherlock didn’t get to finish his sentence before the door swung open. Mariana was pulling her coat on as she bent down to quickly pat Archie. Her expression was ecstatic when she stood and then swiftly brushed past the two men.

“Hello! Good walk? Go watch the desk, yes? I’ll be back!” She shouted, already metres down Baker Street. John turned to Sherlock, whose uninterested expression had quickly turned into very familiar intrigue and fascination.

“I must apologise to you, my dear Watson.” Sherlock turned to his smirking companion. “It seems that our trusted friend is hiding something from us.” Sherlock stepped inside with the most careful step and slowly slid his sunglasses down his nose. Grey eyes scanning the hall.

“Ha! I knew it! Come on Archie. We’ve got a case!”

“Wroof!”

----

“Hello listener! You find me in the doorway of 221a. Sherlock is crawling across the hardwood floor of our office space, and I am keeping Archie from contaminating the crime scene. Which isn’t actually a crime scene, it’s just that Mariana’s been acting weird. Smiling at her screens, avoiding questions, she’s even been ‘too busy’ to walk Archie! So being the excellent friends we are, Sherlock and I are investigating-”

“Practically snooping.” Sherlock popped up from beneath the front desk.

“We’re concerned about her! It’s not unheard of- You’ve got a cobweb in your hair.” John stifled a snicker as Sherlock picked at his head cross eyed.

“Ah! I got it. You can let Archie go now, the floor holds no more facts than usual.” Sherlock leapt from the ground elegantly and resumed his search, focusing on Mariana’s desk. It was quite tidy, newly cleaned, but her phone lay screen down in the middle.

“Thank you. In you go Archie-boy.” John clicked off the leash and followed Archie into the room. He went to Mariana’s small kitchen. He’d used the kettle here many times, and had put coffee on for her as well. Her mug was discarded in the sink, and the pot in the machine was almost empty.

“Hmm, that’s weird. I’m in Mariana’s kitchen, and the coffee pot is almost empty- Which of course isn’t weird, she’s spanish, y’know? They really like their coffee. The weird bit is that the pot was quite full, by the looks of it.” He explained to the microphone.

“HOW DID YOU OBSERVE THAT?” Shouted Sherlock from the office space. John could hear his steps coming closer.

“Well it’s the condensation from when it was brewed! It’s-” John started before Sherlock entered the small kitchen.

“Let me see.” Sherlock leaned over John’s shoulder with a puzzled expression, and then a grin spread on his face. The condensation was only just at the top of the coffee pot, it must indeed have been quite full.

“Very good Watson! And what can we deduce from that?”

“Well, it explains her energy just earlier- oh yeah,” he spoke to the microphone, “she rushed out the door as soon as we came back from Archie’s morning walk.”

“That’s all well and good, but it also tells us she was tired this morning. No one drinks that much coffee for the taste. She must have slept very little or very poorly, but did she seem sore to you, Doctor?”

“Not at all. On the contrary.” said John, nodding along with his friend’s thought process.

“And so, by ruling out the impossible we know that she slept very little, most likely in anticipation of the text message she received mere moments before our return.” Sherlock smirked as he turned on his heel to exit the room. John grinned big, impressed and befuddled.

“How? How do you know that she got a text?” He quickly followed his friend back into the office. Archie had curled up under Mariana’s desk and was snoring lightly. Sherlock stood above him, leaning on the table and looking pointedly at her abandoned phone.

“She didn’t bring her phone. She was sitting here, waiting for a message, got it and checked it. Then we came back. Archie-” the sleeping dog lifted an ear, “-made our presence known and out the door went mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock explained with a smile, but as soon as he finished his eyebrows drew together again. “But what would get her in such a rush? And why has she been secretive about it?” He started scanning the familiar room once again. John crossed his arms and looked at the smartphone in its sleek cover. He knew he shouldn’t. So he didn’t. But he noticed something missing beneath the phone.

“She��s cleared her desk, Sherlock. Did you notice?”

“Yes. She’s very cleanly.”

“Her mouse pad isn’t here. The little nametag by the front is gone. Even her cute little personalised-calendar-thing isn’t here!” He contemplated turning off the microphone. Sherlock stopped his data collection and looked at his friend.

“I see what you’re getting at, but if she was leaving-”

“I didn’t say that-”

“I already considered the possibility, but our initial interest in the case was unusual displays of happiness. Ergo: she is not unhappy in this work.” He stepped slowly toward John.

“I don’t know after The Retired Colourman… And she’s been happy in a new way. Like waiting for… a new opportunity?” His voice was small. “She’s good at grabbing those.”

“John.” Sherlock put a hand on his shoulder, pulling his attention behind them. “Look here. What do you see?”

“Our desks…” John started. “... also cleared. What?” He looked up at Sherlock whose eyes were fixed on him.

“Why would she tidy up after us if she won’t be here for long?”

“But where are our mousepads? And your stress ball? She rents here, y’know, it’s her name on the lease, not the company. If she needs us out-”

“Here.” Sherlock took a big step and opened a drawer in his desk he had already checked once. And there was his worn mouse pad and a discoloured stress ball. John’s puzzled expression didn't change however. He turned back towards the phone. He had stared at the back of that boring cover and wondered for more than a week. He picked it up and turned it over. The lock screen lit up.

“John Hamish Watson, put her phone down!” Sherlock looked bewildered at his colleague.

“Oh so we can break into people's homes, but looking at our friend’s notifications goes against Sherlock Holmes’ moral compass? Be serious, mate. I’m worried. ” John looked back at the phone. The photo on her lock screen made him smile in spite of his worry.

“I don’t need the trust of suspects, but mrs. Hudson- I remember that photograph.” Sherlock stopped when he looked over John’s shoulder. He raised his microphone.

“For the listeners: The photo taken was at the Volunteer, it’s a selfie from a night out. Mariana looks absolutely gorgeous, it’s a shame it’s only half her face ‘cause the make-up’s really cool. Sherlock is right behind her, also looking his best, big smile, turtleneck, sunglasses in february, you know, serving looks-”

“You need screen time on TikTok.”

“Probably. And I look like a prick holding three pints.”

“Nonono. Watson looks very handsome, he’d just gone to the barber and I recall that he smelt excellent.”

“Oh yeah! Mum had just gotten me that beard-oil-stuff. What a brilliant night that was.”

Sherlock chuckled a little and then his face fell into deep interest once more. He pried the phone from John, who let him.

“She’s a professional woman. It was the first thing I observed of her. Her phone is practical, not an unnecessarily expensive model, but up to date and protected with a simple, practical and stylish cover. This is how our colleague wants to be perceived. It is her carefully crafted frontstage persona. And so the secrecy we’ve observed must concern her backstage. She’s a private woman. Remember the mermaid t-shirt? The glimpses we get are embarrassing to her. She even hides her face in this image that she hasn’t shared anywhere.” He put the phone down.

“D’you think she’s seeing someone?”

“Perhaps. It could also be family.”

“Hmm.” John murmured and considered the phone again. The ping of a text rang from it. Sherlock shot him a glare. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text.

“John, really, it takes the fun out of it… huh,” Sherlock said.

“It’s a courier service asking for a rating.”

“Yes, Watson, I can read,” said Sherlock, voice dripping with sarcasm. John gestured to the microphone, but Sherlock kept speaking. “She must have gone down to the postal office then, to collect the package they are inquiring about.”

“Right, so the package is the secret?”

“We can certainly deduce that, but it’s the content that solves this case.” Sherlock turned around to the rest of the office, and resumed his work. John had just put down the phone when the flat front door opened.

“ Oh shit, act natural!” Whispered John and flung himself into his office chair. Sherlock was pulled out of his focused state and stood frozen wondering what ‘natural’ meant. Happy humming and the jingle of keys came from the hall and the door swung open.

“I’m back! I really hoped it would get here before you, but a surprise is a-” Mariana stopped in her tracks. She put the box she had carried under her arm down on the front desk and looked from man to man. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Watching the desk as you said.” John's smile was wider than he wanted it to be and looked to Sherlock, who only had eyes for the box, for any sliver of assistance.

“Riiight. Sherlock, why is John lying?” said Mariana with a mischievous grin. John sighed as Sherlock moved closer to the box.

“Because you have been dishonest and secretive.” He read over the shipping details and examined the slight damage in the cardboard. “And so we have been dishonest in return.”

“¿Qué? Can anyone speak sense here?” Her joking demeanour had become more exasperated, and yet the awkward silence of the room was only broken by a particularly slobbering snore from Archie. Sherlock looked at John pleadingly. He sighed in return.

“Alright. We were worried!” Started the doctor.

“He was. I was curious.” Explained the detective and continued: “You, Mariana Ametxazurra-”

“You know my name?” She laughed.

“Let me finish! Watson brought it to my attention that you have directed an unusual amount of happiness at your phone, and not informed us as to why. We conducted an investigation. Initially Watson observed that your coffee consumption was excessive this morning, of which trouble sleeping can be deduced. I had already noticed the particular placement of your phone, and so it was simple to reason your anticipation of the text message you received. Then Watson was struck by fear of your cleaned and clear desk, he assumed you must have been waiting for a new job opportunity-”

“Oh John .” She frowned sympathetically.

“Let him finish.” John was slightly flustered.

“Terrible theory of course, but then we drew our attention to your phone. I must regretfully inform you that Watson betrayed your trust and picked it up-”

“Hey hey hey mate! You deduced it was a text.” John shot out of his chair.

“But I didn’t pick up her phone.” Sherlock crossed his arms at his colleague. John scoffed.

“You looked over my shoulder immediately!” He retorted.

“Yes, and we saw the contrast of you, mrs. Hudson,” said Sherlock and picked up the discarded phone. “Professional and practical on the outside.” He turned on the screen and presented her with the selfie of the three friends. “Yet ultimately a very warm and very private person.” He gave her the phone. She smiled at the photo and looked back up at him. “It was then that Watson betrayed you once more-”

“Alright! Mariana I’m so sorry, but you got a text and we read the notification- but it was just from a courier service! I swear we were just-”

“John please! It’s okay!” She was laughing, John realised, she was laughing hard. “It’s my work phone. That’s why I left it, you might have gotten a call from a potential client.” She pulled out another phone from her pocket to show them, it was a similar model, but with a clear cover. Sherlock looked dumbfounded and then disappointed.

“But you always use that phone, and why the personal picture?” He interrogated. Mariana kept chuckling.

“That’s because I’m always working and I just really like that picture, it’s the only one where you’re actually smiling. Not one of those no-lips english smiles.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. “Now, master detective, have you figured out what’s in the box? Or do you want to do the honours?” She offered him the scissors, but he turned away, slightly offended and mostly flustered.

“I know what’s in the box.” He said.

“Well I would love to, Mari.” John grabbed the scissors, and went straight to cutting open the mysterious package.

“I was so happy with the quality of all the merch. And when I just recently thanked the merch company, I saw that their website had all sorts of personalised office things!” She explained as John pulled out a large mousepad with their logo.

“This looks amazing, Mariana!”

“Thank you, I thought we needed an upgrade.” She searched the box. “And here Sherlock. They had stress balls, and good ones too!” She threw one at him teasingly, not expecting him to catch it with the precision he did. He gave it a look and an experimental squeeze.

“It’s not too far from my old one. I’ll warm up to it.” His mood was on the mend.

“What are you talking about? That looks great! Toss it here! I’m free!” John held his hands up to catch.

It was fortunate that Mariana had ordered several stress balls, for Sherlock Holmes was much better at catching than throwing, and John Watson didn’t move fast enough before Archie had claimed his part of the new stationary.

******** Find it on AO3! The Inscrutable Case of Mariana “mrs. Hudson” Ametxazurra

#submission #sherlock and co #sherlock & co #flashbang event #sherlock homes #john watson #mariana ametxazurra

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sacredstarcatcher · 1 year

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Cruel Summer - Part 4

Jake & Sam x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Cutness, flirting, Rosie, pickles, oral sex (f receiving), language. :)

This one's short because part five is 5k words. Heh.

You were left with two weeks of rehearsals before the show. Though the scales and tails of the costumes vacated your apartment, you were still drowning in last minute responsibilities. That’s why you were seemingly pried out of your home by Sam on Saturday morning. Neither he nor any of his brothers, local or not, had heard from you in days.

“You need vitamin D,” he says, speaking with his hands, gesturing at the sky. “You’re working your summer away. Come on. Even Rosie thinks you’re about to lose it.” He’s right. She was glued to your side as you walked the streets of Nashville.

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?!” you say, gesturing at the sky. “You got me out here. I’m absorbing all of the vitamin D the sun can give me. Now lay off.”

He shakes his head at you as he pushes open the door to the record store. The owner shoots both of you a wave as you enter, and Sam sends one back, lifting his gangly arm and big hand over your head. Once you’re inside, he steps in front of you, hunching down to look directly into your eyes. He’s so close to your face, your heart skips a beat.

“We have a big day ahead of us. First, we’re looking through the new boxes of vinyls in the back before they put them out. Then we’re taking the goods back to my house and listening to as many as we can as we pick the cucumbers from my garden and I teach you my secret pickling technique. Are you going to be cranky the entire time? Or are we going to enjoy ourselves?”

You can’t help but grin at him despite the stress of your life at the moment. “We can enjoy ourselves,” you lament with a smirk, walking past him towards the beaded curtain at the back of the store.

You stand next to him as he sorts through the bins on his knees, accepting the ones he’s taking home with him into your arms. You can’t help but giggle at the way he repeatedly pushes his hair from his face to see the vinyls beneath him.

“Gonna get you a headband,” you mumble, leaning on the wall. He gives you a warning look before continuing on his search.

“That was a little too high on the grumpy-ometer. Take it down a bit.”

-oOo-

“I thought the cucumbers were next?” you ask, wondering why you’re pulling into the thrift store parking lot. He shakes his head as if he’s in disbelief over you not knowing why you’re there.

“You can’t garden in a white sundress. We’re going thrifting.”

As you enter the thrift store, Rosie tags along obediently through the racks of clothing. Sam seems determined as he scans the hangers. His mission: finding you some gardening clothes. He can’t resist the mens section, pulling three short sleeve button downs you think are hideous, but he’s never looked bad a day in his life, so you trust his judgment.

Eventually he pulls a pair of shorts for you that aren’t terrible. They’re a light wash pair with a high waist and elastic for stretch. You hold them over your arm when he hands them to you with a smile.

You’re a bit more reluctant, however, when he grabs a t-shirt that reads “#1 Dad” across the front.

“Oh, no. No way.” You keep walking down the row, but he tosses it at you, the tee landing over your eyes.

“It’s been decided. Let’s go check out.”

-oOo-

You’re standing behind Sam in his backyard, watching him bent over in the dirt, listening to his ramblings about cucumbers.

You’re boiling in the sun despite the hat on your head and sunglasses over your eyes.

You’re barefoot in the grass because Sam didn’t want your sandals to get dirty, but it’s clear that he severely overestimated how deep into this gardening process you would be.

You’re wearing a pair of mom shorts and a t-shirt tied into a crop top, the wrinkled words #1 Dad spread across your chest.

You’re tired as hell.

Sam places a few cucumbers into the basket you’re holding as he talks and talks and talks, and while he’s not paying attention, you drag over a chair from the lawn furniture to sit on. He turns to give you the next handful and catches you sunning yourself.

“If I die, you’re not going to have any way to make my famous pickles. Nobody ever listens to me when I explain this shit!” You look at him over your sunglasses, not taking him seriously in the slightest. He stands and pulls off his gloves, brushing the dirt from his knees. “You’ll all be sorry,” he says jokingly, incredibly reminiscent of a cranky old man, and takes the basket from you to bring inside.

You’re grateful that on his rockstar salary, Sam can afford to keep his house a relieving 69 degrees. You work alongside him, slicing the cucumbers after he washes them, placing them on the cutting board and aiming for the perfect spear. You know you’ve missed the mark when Sam inspects the pile of slices and pulls a face.

“What you want to do…” he begins, approaching you from behind. He steadies your hand on the cucumber and grabs your hand on top of the knife. “...is hold it flat, but cut in at an angle, instead of straight through.” His hair is brushing the back of your neck, his breath hitting your ear and the side of your face. You can’t help the way your body leans backwards just slightly, pressing your back against his broad chest.

“Mhm,” you respond, making sure he knows you’re definitely listening now. You’ll remember this part of the technique until the end of time. He gently slices through the first half with you, then the second.

“You try,” he says, letting go of your hand. He moves his to rest on either side of you on the countertop, and he rests his chin on your shoulder. All you can do is take a nervous breath before slicing once, then twice, then dropping the knife. Your hands are absolutely shaking and before you know it, Rosie’s pushing between you two. You whip around to look down at her as Sam steps backwards, then at each other.

“Rosie. Go lay down.” He says it calmly, his voice gentle. The only sound you hear is her paws gently clicking against the tile of the kitchen as she listens dutifully and heads to her bed.

It’s then that Sam clears the short distance between you with two big steps. He immediately pulls you into his embrace, his hands wrapping around your waist, his lips crashing into yours. You moan in surprise, eagerly returning the kiss, pulling his face closer to yours between both of your palms.

It’s all rushed and hurried as if you’re on borrowed time. Because you are, after all. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you chase it with yours, reveling in the taste of his mouth. He’s so sweet, just like you’d imagined, twinged with the flavor of the fruity Topo Chico he’s been drinking.

“Hey,” he says, breaking apart from you, but you kiss him again. “Wait,” he says, mumbling against your lips.

You pull him in for yet another wanton kiss, signaling you desperately don’t want it to end. You don’t care, you just want him. He accepts your kisses, but his grip on your waist loosens.

“We can’t,” he says, and you feel it all come crashing down. “I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step back. You look at him, flushed and confused, the disappointment written all over your face.

“Sam,” you begin, but your feelings sink deeper into your gut. You aren’t ready to be that vulnerable. It’s safer to let him talk first.

“I shouldn’t have. It’s just…” He sighs and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. You recognize this feeling. He has a difficult time talking about his emotions and they’re running high right now. “I feel so distant from her. I’ve been using you to fill the void. And that’s not right.”

You’re trying to keep your composure, but it’s getting harder by the second as you realize you’ve been developing feelings for Sam and he’s just been using you as emotional support. You blink away the tears and put on a brave face, adjusting your shirt and wiping your eyes.

“It’s fine. We’ve been spending a lot of time together and I’ve really been lonely without Jake so… That makes sense.” You head to the door to slip on your shoes and grab your keys, but realize Sam picked you up this morning.

“Let me drive you home,” he says, quickly making his way around the kitchen island towards the door. You put up a hand and give a fake smile, politely declining.

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m gonna walk. It’s a beautiful day. I’ll see you at the wedding, Sam.” Before he can come any closer, you slip out the front door and down the stone path, making your way down the street.

A week passes after the incident at Sam’s. You’re more than happy when Jake’s back in town and you’re able to think with a clear head. You’ve effectively convinced yourself that you were probably just projecting your feelings for Jake onto Sam while he was away. Sam hadn’t even crossed your mind until it was time to see him again- the Saturday of the wedding approached faster than you would have liked.

You make your way to Jake’s, seeing as you graciously offered to be the designated driver. With your dress in its garment bag over your arm, your makeup and hair already done, you put the code into Jake’s front door and enter, calling out for him.

You stride through the door when you hear his voice call back to you from upstairs. You hike up the staircase to find him standing in his walk-in closet, tucking his dress shirt in.

“I look stupid,” he says, fidgeting with the waistband of his pants and the button-down that’s disobeying every order he gives. You chuckle, watching him from the doorway.

“You look handsome. You just… aren’t very good at wearing shirts the right way.” He turns to meet your eyes and gives you an unserious glare..

“Fuck off,” he says playfully as he tries to hide a smile. He reaches for the suit coat and puts it on, shrugging to make sure it fits correctly. You watch as he adjusts the lapels and scrutinizes himself in the mirror.

He leaves the room for a moment and you begin to get into your dress. You’re facing away from the door adjusting the straps when he re-enters.

“Can you zip me up?” You look over your shoulder at him, and you can’t say the gaze you shoot him isn’t flirtatious. He can’t do anything but oblige,and his hands are so warm on your bare skin as he hooks the clasp at the top of the zipper that you lean into his touch, wanting, needing more. He steadies the fabric of the zipper with one hand as he pulls it up, then places his hands on your shoulders. You’re watching him behind you in the mirror while he takes in the sight of you in the dress.

He drops his head and places a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. “You look good enough to eat,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Mmm, yeah?” you flirt, turning in his embrace to face him. With a quickness you were unprepared for, he lifts you up and carries you out of the closet, tossing you onto his bed. The chiffon of your dress falls to the side, leaving the slit wide open as the material pools under you.

The way he looks down at you lights a fire in your belly. He looks annoyingly sexy in the world's most wrinkled dress shirt and black sport coat, the lapels a contrasting velvet to the rest of the suit. His eyes are dark with lust and you feel like you’re going to implode if he doesn’t take you right there and then. He slides the jacket off his shoulders though it feels like he just put it on. You’re mesmerized by his hands and forearms as he works to roll up his sleeves.

His hands are gentle as he moves the delicate fabric up your legs and pulls down your panties. He smugly takes a look at them before folding them in half and pocketing them.

“Seeing me in a suit gets you fired up, huh?” he mumbles against your skin as he kisses down your thigh.

“Jake,” you whine, needing him to speed it up. “We’re gonna be late.”

“I have a feeling this won’t take long,” he says with a chuckle, making you jump as he places a love bite on your inner thigh. You can’t help but spread your legs further, waiting impatiently for his mouth. He places an open mouth kiss at the peak of your pussy, giving you only a small amount of relief. “Fuck,” he lets out before giving another, this time his tongue venturing a bit further between your folds.

“Can’t believe you’re gonna make me go to this stupid fucking wedding instead of-” he interrupts himself by placing another sloppy kiss on your clit. “...burying my face between your legs for the rest of the night,” he grumbles, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your wetness.

You let out a frustrated whine, feeling like you’re about to combust. He’s riling you up, talking to you like he’s about to make you see God, but somehow he’s barely touching you. You buck your hips, hoping his fingers will finally touch you where you absolutely need him to. He gives an arrogant chuckle in response, finally slipping two fingers inside you. You gasp feeling his middle and ring finger curl forward deliciously inside you, immediately finding your sweet spot.

Then he’s finally, finally between your legs, his plush lips attaching to suck at your clit, humming into you as he gets a taste. You look down at the sound to see his eyes, lazy and glassy, looking up at you while he works you over. You’re unable to even think straight; seeing him between your legs with his wide eyes reveling in the taste of you is simply too much. You throw your head back and let out another moan, lacing your hand through his hair.

“God, Jake,” you let out in a breathy, slutty moan. You couldn’t recognize the sound of your own voice if it was played back to you. He detaches his lips from you, looking up to see you.

“Yes baby,” he asks, letting his fingers do the work for a moment. “Tell me,” he encourages, feeling you beginning to tighten up around him.

“I’m gonna cum- fuck- please,” you whimper, blindly searching for his head to pull it back and feel his mouth again. He gives in, meeting your clit again and relentlessly sucking, ready to get you to your peak. You feel it coming, your hips tightening, your back arching- and then suddenly it washes over you.

You cry out, your thighs clamping together, holding him place. In response, he shakes his head, providing more than enough stimulation as you ride your high, lewd sounds coming from below as your orgasm washes over you leaving you limp. He places a gentle kiss to your clit and pulls out his fingers, shamelessly cleaning them off with his mouth. He smacks the outside of your thigh before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “C’mon. Can’t be late,” he chides, dipping his head down to tuck his shirt back in.

TAGLIST: @reesetrippingthelight@samstopochico@jordierama@jakesgrapejuice @spark-my-nature@gvfcinema@fwzco

Part 5

#forbidden twins #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van smut #greta van fleet #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #josh gvf #danny gvf #sam kiszka #sammy kiszka #sam gvf #sam kiszka fanfiction #sammy gvf #samfkiszka #jaketkiszka

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hannahssimblr · 3 months

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Chapter Twenty

Yiorgos, our taxi driver, chugs up the driveway with his boot stuffed full of cases and bags. It is hot already, even though he told us that the winter drew on longer than normal this year, but now the summer seems to have come early, completely swallowing up the spring. The Cypriot heat is bone dry today, and when we step out of the car and take our cases with us, a haze of dust from the path rises into the air and leaves a thin film on my sandals. The sun is sharp edged on the stone of this old building, and a scallop shaped bird bath in the garden has dried up. I run my fingers through the ridges of warm stone as Yiorgos hauls all of Claire’s bags out onto the ground, and gaze out towards the horizon from this vantage point, high enough to see the pale slash of Coral Beach to the west and the blue ridges of the Cedar Valley in the distant east, yellow sun glancing off their inclines. The wind does not blow. It is perfectly, silently still.

“It’s hot.” I declare, fanning myself with the paperback book I packed for the plane, and Jude pushes his sunglasses onto his face. “Is it?” He says vaguely. He is wearing long trousers and a sweatshirt, and Shane has the decency to look irritated on my behalf. “Some of us would find this hot, man, yeah,” He says. “We weren’t all dragged up in the Chihuahuan Desert, or whatever it’s called,” He wipes sweat from his brow and begins hauling some of the bags up the steps to the worn wooden doors at the entrance of the house. There is an arc of sweat on his back, and hair at the nape of his neck is damp with it. He was never all that great in the sun.

When Claire throws open the doors she does so with great flourish, and then flits through the house and does the same to all of them. I spot her up on the balcony above the pomegranate trees as I carry my things inside, like a Disney princess with her long, thick hair swishing around her shoulders, the look of complete and utter bliss fixed upon her pretty face. She was so excited about this holiday, and now being here, seeing how beautiful it is after all of the meticulous planning, I feel like I can relax.

The house, with its smooth plastered walls is cool inside, as though the thick stone has held onto the damp of winter, but still, I go to the sink in the kitchen to get a palm full of water for my hot forehead. The shutters there are thrown open to a sea view, and far to the north east of the bay where the white sand meets the cliffs, a huge, top heavy rock juts out of the sea. I am squinting at it when Jude comes up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist.

“It’s Aphrodite’s Rock,” I tell him. “I read about it in that guide at the tourist office. The myths say that she was born right there at that very spot.”

“She’s the Greek’s answer to Venus, right? Goddess of Love and beauty.”

“And marriage and prostitution and all of that fun stuff.”

“I bet she was a wild gal back in the BC days.”

“You know that the guide also said that that portion of the beach was voted the top place in the Mediterranean to have sex,” I don’t know why I just said that, and stiffen awkwardly in his arms, quickly adding, “It’s also a nudist beach,” as though that will save me somehow, but actually it only makes it worse.

“Oh,” He teases with a ticklish kiss on my cheekbone. “If you feel like heading down there at any point I wouldn’t be totally opposed.”

“Yeah, you me and a bunch of creepy old men, I bet, and anyway,” I twist around to face him “I’m already competing for time with your bloody thesis, I don’t really fancy wasting a precious day hiking all the way down there just to get my pasty baps out for a crowd of strangers.”

He throws his head back and groans, arms falling limp at his sides. “Please, we just arrived, don’t mention the ‘T’ word.”

“Get it done early,” I warn him with a stiff finger in the chest. “I’m not spending this whole holiday third wheeling it with Claire and Shane because you can’t stop procrastinating.”

“I’m like, 95% there. I swear, it’ll be like, one evening, max,” he whirls around and starts plucking bags from the heap on the terracotta tiles with a sudden burst of efficiency. “I’ll do it tonight, it’ll be over. For now we have to unpack and pick a room, and then I think we should take a walk and see if we can find somewhere to swim so we can get that sticky aeroplane feeling off us.”

“A room?” I echo, fixated on that part, “You think we should share?”

“Well, I don’t know,” He says, standing still with his arms full of cases. “Would you absolutely hate that?”

“I wouldn’t hate it, I just, you know…”

He nods, “We can sleep separately, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sorry,” I add quickly, “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t want to feel kind of, situation-ed into something we’re not ready for.”

“Is that a word? Situ-”

“No.”

“Well, okay.”

“You’re not offended?”

“No!” He says, and rightly enough, he doesn’t sound it, but maybe he’s just a good actor. “It’s not like that with us, we’re going slow.”

I chew on my lip, “Well I feel like you’re just saying that.”

“Evie,” He sighs. “It’s different with us, I know that you’re anxious, and it doesn’t bother me. Actually, it’s nice, I’ve never done the waiting thing before, and I’m enjoying it, because I’ve been appreciating everything else that we’ve been doing.”

“Back when I was at school the waiting period was about eight months,” I tell him, and it’s just an innocent anecdote but I swear his face drains a bit. “Girls would go out with their first boyfriend for ages first, and if they made it as far as eight months then they’d get the ride. Usually like, in a car or at someone’s house party.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“Yeah, right. That was just a stupid story, by the way,” I say hastily. “It’s not like that’s the pattern I want us to follow or anything, it just popped into my head there, and like, eight months is ages to wait, and it’s not like we even know where you’re going to be in eight months, sure you’ll be long graduated by then and you could be off anywhere in the world…” I trail off because his smile has faltered and he’s starting to look miserable. “I’ll come with you now to look at the rooms,” I seize a few more of the bags and follow him up the stairs to a creaky landing with shuttered windows that still block out the light.

I insist that Jude take the double room out of pure guilt, even though he seems perfectly fine again, but mostly I choose the small box room because it has that very same beautiful view as the kitchen beneath it. Instead of unpacking anything I sit upon a painted wooden chair by the window and gaze out at the stillness of Pissouri, the azure blue of the sky and the brittle sand coloured stone of the cracked roads that wind up and down the hills. Once again I look for Aphrodite’s Rock and find it, as though a flickering torch of twisting flames was transformed into stone in an instant. The sand at its base unfolds into a meadow of Neptune seagrass, and I imagine I can see the goddess there, standing boldly in her nakedness amongst the cliffs. Somehow she sees me too, and she smiles up at me, her gaze unwavering, insistent and sure. I stare back until she dissolves to nothing in the blink of an eye.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #tw: sex mention

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kiljoius-writes · 1 year

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Uprooted - Chapter 1

Ao3 | FFN

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Chapter 1: Jump Up, Heart Sunk

Pairing: Sasuke Uchiha/Hinata Hyūga

Summary: All Hinata really knows is that she’s not quite fond of Fugaku's son. Her eyes land on Itachi, who is standing between the two men. No, not that son.

The other one. The one who is awkwardly sidled up in the opposing corner of the room. He’s always so aloof, as if he’s too good for everyone else around him. He just wasn’t the type of person she could find it in herself to respect.

Sasuke was no friend.

For the SasuHina discord server challenge: Arranged Marriage AU

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: T

Today, Hinata is 20.

It’s not the lavish birthday bash that Hanabi is destined to have, but it’s still quite a nice party.

“’Ey Hinata.” Kiba swings around her front, almost losing his balance. Hinata automatically grabs at him to keep him steady and he flashes her a toothy smile. “Think your cousin over there’d be interested in me?”

Hinata looks over her shoulder to find whom she recognizes as Hikari, a branch member with beautifully long, dark green hair. She looks back at Kiba and lowers her eyes at him disapprovingly. “Is my celebration a good time to pick up on women, Kiba?”

“Ah, c’mon—”

"She is right." Shino approaches him from behind, causing Kiba to instinctively throw his fist backward. Shino's quicker and knows Kiba well enough to catch it in his hand before it lands a hit. When he sees who it is, he lets out a groan of frustration. Shino releases the fist and pushes his glasses back up his nose. "It is what some might call 'inappropriate’.”

Hinata’s always found Kiba and Shino’s interactions to be some of the funniest.

“You guys are boring,” Kiba huffs childishly, folding his arms, “never let a guy have any fun.”

The group naturally settles in a corner of the grand hall they’re partying in. Even though it’s Hinata’s birthday celebration, it’s really just a façade for clan politics to take place. She doesn’t care much, it’s not like she really wants a party anyway. But, as always, father gets what father wants.

“You guys know why I’m single?” Kiba interjects, bringing a glass of sake to his lips to throw down his throat. He shudders and coughs slightly before setting it on the table next to them. “Women are intimidated.”

“Intimidated?” Shino questions quietly, and Hinata knows he’s blinking in disbelief behind those sunglasses. She smiles as she looks back at Kiba.

“Yep, by my power.” He thumbs towards his own chest, then swipes at his nose. “Guess I gotta tone it down a little.”

“Yes, please,” Hinata teases him gently and he glares at her, but she knows it isn’t serious. “No glaring. I don’t want you scaring the pretty ladies away with your power.”

"Ah!" Kiba barks a laugh, patting her roughly on the shoulder. She stumbles a bit but rights herself easily. "And what about you, Hina? You single cause all the men are intimidated by that crackling force in those palms?"

Hinata blushes at the over-the-top compliment, shaking her head. “No, I am single because I want to be.”

“Sure ya do.” He rolls his eyes, and her smile quickly fades to a frown.

“What do you mean by that?” she nearly snaps, but it comes out even and controlled.

“He means nothing by it.” Shino’s tone is warning and Kiba recoils from it. Hinata’s smile returns as she turns to lean against the wall with them.

The three quietly observe the crowd before them. It’s a typical Hyūga event, with Hyūga servants bustling around haughty clan leaders and politicians. She catches a glimpse of her little sister with her ear being talked off by one of those haughty clan leaders or politicians' sons. She feels bad for Hanabi, always expected to entertain whatever noble's son decides deserves to command her attention. But she plays the part quite beautifully, now. Just a few years ago, her byakugan would flash on and off as she internally debated whether to close any chakra points. Now, she's 14 and has fallen into her role well.

Then her eyes bounce to a man who matches her father in height as they speak, Fugaku Uchiha. It’s typical for the Uchiha to be here, the clans visit a few times a year, and an event like this is a perfect opportunity to ‘chat’. Hinata didn't like to concern herself with whatever that meant, it wasn't her place. Besides, she didn't really want to know, anyway. All she really knows is that there is both understanding and animosity between the clans, and that’s enough for her.

She also knows she’s not quite fond of his son. Her eyes land on Itachi, who is standing between the two men. No, not that son. The other one.

The one who is awkwardly sidled up in the opposing corner of the room, drink in hand, other arm folded over his chest, by himself. Hinata squints at him. He's always so aloof as if he's too good for everyone else around him. They'd been around each other plenty, and it was never particularly pleasant. At best, awkward silence filled the space between them. At worst, he was making snide remarks toward her and she would do her best not to let him know how little she thought of him.

He just wasn’t the type of person she could find it in herself to respect. People like Kiba, Shino, Naruto, Chōji, Tenten, Lee. Those were people she could respect. People who were kind without the expectation of anything in return. People who lifted others up, no matter what. People whom she thought of as friends.

Sasuke was no friend.

So, when his eyes cast up and lock with hers, almost immediately, she frowns and turns away. Kiba picks up on it and looks where she had been. She peers up from the corner of her eye to catch Kiba giving a mocking wave towards the Uchiha, then his hand flips around and his middle finger is up. She almost gasps and tells him to ‘put that away right now!’ but just as her eyes find Sasuke again, he’s glaring his mean glare back and his middle finger is up, too.

She almost laughs. Then Sasuke puts down his drink and raises his hands in front of his chest, flopping them around and sticking out his tongue like a dog panting. He’s mocking Kiba and it can go nowhere good.

It takes both Hinata and Shino grabbing both of Kiba’s arms to keep him from stomping up Sasuke. Both of them know Kiba’s no match for him, and to pick a fight at a Hyūga event would be disastrous for all involved.

“Fucking asshole,” Kiba seethes, yanking his arms out of his respective teammates' grasps as his temper cools, slightly.

Hinata breathes a sigh, reaching out to wipe at his jacket. “Control yourself, Kiba. Remember, that power.”

A laugh leaves him and that’s what gets him back to normal. His hand roughs through her hair and she swats at it.

“He’s approaching,” Shino informs them in a whisper, and Hinata whirls around to find that Sasuke is indeed strolling over to them.

It always has to be something, doesn’t it?

“Tell me, Inuzuka,” Sasuke says loftily as he approaches, his stride lazy as he carries his drink in an equally lazy way, “do all the members of the clan smell like dog, or is it just you?”

Hinata lets out a tired breath as Kiba’s face turns red enough to match the markings on his cheeks. “The hell crawled up your ass and died, Uchiha?”

“This sad celebration,” he deadpans and Hinata squints up at him.

“Can we help you, Sasuke?” she asks, hoping to redirect him away from her dear friend who is ready to explode.

Kiba’s resolve is admirable right now, though, she must admit.

"Yeah, I guess you could." He turns his attention to her, and she slowly takes a step back. She's pleased when his footsteps match hers to follow, and she continues luring him away as if he's her prey. He holds out his arm towards her and she looks at it questioningly. He points at a spot in his bicep that she recognizes as where a chakra point lies, and he taps it. "Close this one, then, hopefully, I'll black out and escape this terribly boring party."

Hinata sighs. She expects nothing less of bratty Sasuke. “Very funny, Sasuke. If you are so terribly bored, why don’t you simply…leave?”

Sasuke smirks down at her and she glares at it. “Don’t you think I would have—a long time ago—if I could?” She presses her lips together, unwilling to answer that. “No, the best I can do is entertain myself somehow. Your dog teammate is an easy target, and that’s his fault, not mine.”

Hinata finds that she can’t argue that point with him. Kiba’s always been too hot-headed for his own good. He is an easy target. But she won’t simply stand by and let Sasuke of all people bully him in her own home. So she darts her eyes around for a brief moment before they land on a main family member she knows for a fact is smitten with Sasuke, despite how Hinata has lamented her distaste for the boy. She smiles as she taps her on the shoulder. “Emiko?”

The girl whirls around to meet Hinata, then her eyes falter to Sasuke, and a deep blush takes over her cheekbones. She bows. “Oh, Hinata! And Sasuke! Hello!”

“How long has it been since you two have been acquainted?” Hinata questions in mock innocence, slowly taking a step back. “Emiko, Sasuke has been interested in finding the perfect sugar cookie recipe. Perhaps you may enlighten him?”

“Oh, really?” Emiko brightens up, stars in her eyes as they settle on Sasuke, who has a deep grimace on his face.

It suits him, she thinks. He rarely looks genuinely happy anyway, she thinks his face is frozen into a grimace often enough that it’s the default look of Sasuke Uchiha.

Another step back and his dark black eyes flash over hers, filled with irritation. “Not exactl—”

Hinata cups her mouth, and whispers to him, "her secret ingredient is cayenne."

This makes his grimace grow and she steps back again, Emiko set down the path Hinata had planned for her, and now she’s returning to her team.

“That—” Kiba points at Sasuke and Emiko, then looks back at Hinata. “That was devious.”

“Diabolical, even,” Shino agrees, tilting his head down at her.

She smiles, proudly. These are not insults from Kiba and Shino. They are compliments.

“Why, thank you.”

Nearly a week after her celebration (read: political meet and greet), Kō finds her while she’s shopping to summon her. She tilts her head curiously at her former caretaker. It had been a while since he's had to come to collect her for one reason or another, and she's actually interested to see what it could be for.

Nothing could prepare her for what she was about to be told when she was led to the Uchiha district.

“E-Excuse me?”

When Hinata lost to her sister in the bid for the heiress of her clan over 10 years ago, she never expected this.

“What she said.”

Hiashi and Fugaku shared a look briefly before looking back at their respective children.

“Do not act so surprised, Sasuke.” Fugaku waves a hand. “This is the way forward for our two clans.”

“But—” Hinata’s lips thin to a harsh line when her father’s eyes shoot into her like an arrow. The elder doesn’t have to say much to quiet his eldest.

But Fugaku isn’t as lucky as Hiashi, it seems. “This is ridiculous.” Sasuke pushes his palms onto the table before him, shoving his chair back. He begins walking away, and it’s Hiashi’s voice that recalls him. Hinata keeps her head forward, watching her father’s icy gaze bore into Sasuke’s back. “What is it, Lord Hyūga?”

“I would not be so eager to attempt refusing this proposal.”

Hinata’s teeth clench.

Marriage.

An arranged marriage.

“And what if I do?” Sasuke dares, and Hinata turns to find him looking over his shoulder, eyes squinted in a scowl at her father.

“It’s not up to you, boy,” Fugaku adds, and Hinata looks back at him. She can see him sucking his cheek in, something she’s noticed Sasuke do before, too.

Her head turns back to Sasuke when she hears him chuckle sarcastically. “What are you gonna do? Oust me from the clan? Go ahead, not like it matters to me anyway.”

Back to Fugaku. “No. I’ll simply have Lady Hokage revoke your title as jōnin.”

“Yeah, right, Tsunade would never—”

“Don’t test me.”

Hinata inhales through her mouth, exhales through her nose. She’s never been comfortable with tension, but she can at least deal with it if it’s between her and another. This tension is a whole new level of uncomfortable.

Now she’s turned back to Sasuke again, and she watches his head hang, fists ball up. Her own fists are curled into the fabric of her pants, too, her entire body feeling as tight as his looks.

“And what about you, Hyūga?” Her eyes find his when he looks back at her, eyebrows low. Her throat feels dry as she attempts some sort of response.

“Seems Hinata has more respect for her family than you do, Sasuke,” Fugaku responds on behalf of her.

Whether that was true or not is debatable. Hinata doesn’t have strong feelings one way or the other towards being ousted by her clan or losing her title of jōnin. No, the one thing her father does hold over her is the caged bird seal. She’s unsure of whether she’s willing to risk receiving it by defying him.

“Typical,” Sasuke mutters curtly, and he’s moving away now, concluding the heated interaction.

Slowly, Hinata turns back to the two men before her, two men who have always intimidated her for different reasons. Both of their eyes set on her simultaneously, and she’s surprised to see Fugaku’s mouth turn into a taut smile. “He’ll come around.”

“If I may…” Hinata ventures a question, trying to sit up as straight as possible and hold her head high. “What brings this on…now?”

Hiashi shoots her a warning look and she wills herself not to recoil from it. Fugaku speaks for them, “a contract signed long ago, around the time your title of the heiress was relinquished to your younger sister. With your 20th birthday passing, it comes into effect.”

Hinata swallows and nods. Her fate had never been her own, anyway.

Hanabi swings her legs as Hinata complains.

She’s been complaining for nearly an hour straight.

Hanabi inhales through the straw of her iced tea until that horrible sucking noise starts bubbling and Hinata stops to glare at her.

“I’m out,” Hanabi sighs, crushing the paper cup between her fingers.

Hinata’s glare deepens. “Have you no sympathy, sister?”

"Kinda hard." Hanabi shrugs, pulling the straw from the cup to put in her mouth, chewing. Hinata instinctively reaches out to pull it from her and Hanabi huffs, annoyed. "Elder sister! Look, it sucks, and I do feel bad. But, arranged marriages are fashionable right now, and lots of clans are doing it. And you know I’m in the same boat, right? Father’s gonna marry me off when I turn 20, too, and I have to be clan leader.”

Hinata softens. She hadn’t quite thought of that in the time she’d been ranting.

“At least he’s hot, right?” Hanabi wiggles an eyebrow and Hinata’s sympathy fizzles out, lips pulling into a purposeful frown. “What! It’s true. You know how many girls would be falling over themselves to be in your position?”

Hinata wants to make a snarky remark, as Kiba might make but restrains herself. "Looks are not enough for me, unfortunately."

Hanabi shrugs, swiping the straw out of Hinata’s hands. Hinata lets out an annoyed grunt and tries to grab it back, and soon they’re in a petty slapping fight over this stupid straw.

“Sisters shouldn’t fight,” a lazy voice drawls near them, a voice she’s becoming far too familiar with once more. Hinata lets go of the straw out of reflex, feeling a little ashamed that Sasuke’s stumbled on her in the middle of a squabble with her sister.

“Heyyyy Uchiha.” Hanabi chomps down on the straw and kicks her feet up on the table outside of the café they were enjoying tea at (enjoying being subjective, of course).

Hinata watches as Sasuke nonchalantly plucks the straw from her mouth, then grabs at her ankles to pull her feet off the table. Hanabi whines. “Don’t you have manners, little Hyūga?”

“Hey!” Hanabi huffs, folding her arms in a pout as Sasuke pulls up the chair between them.

“He’s—” Hinata catches herself. She was about to point out that Sasuke was correct in his assessment that she was being rude but can’t bring herself to say it aloud. At this point, his ego is the last thing she wants to encourage.

“Scram, brat.” Sasuke nudges his head to the side, and Hanabi laughs, loudly.

“Think you can talk to an heiress like that?” Hanabi quirks an eyebrow, daring him.

“Thought you didn’t like that title, Lady Hanabi.” There’s no humor on Sasuke’s face as he says it.

“Don’t be jealous,” Hanabi berates, leans forward, and wags a finger in his face, "'cause you're just the runner-up in your own clan. Runner up in inheritance, runner up in looks, runner up in power—"

“Hanabi!” Even Hinata can’t stand to listen to this any longer, because she sees Sasuke’s eye twitch, and it’s one of the few times she witnesses it. Her sister is one of the few people that can bring a rise out of him, and she doesn’t care to have it happen right here and now.

“Fine, fine.” Hanabi heaves a dramatic sigh as she slams her palms on the table, gathering herself to her feet. She shoots Hinata a look, eyelids low. “I meant what I said though…” She glances at Sasuke, who is looking at her with the faintest hint of curiosity. Then, she glances down at his lap and finishes in a cryptic fashion, “I heard the rumors are true…”

Hinata rolls her eyes as Hanabi begins skipping away, humming and oh so pleased with herself. Sasuke turns his body to her, rests his arm on the table, and looks at her seriously. "What rumors?"

“Oh, you know…” Hinata says, vaguely.

There were no rumors. It was just her sister playing with Sasuke. Hinata decides she’d like to play with him, too. It wasn’t her who started it, anyway.

With an irritated grumble, he shakes his head and it makes her smile. He waves a hand in front of his face. “Anyway, I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Her interest is piqued, now.

“To get us out of this ridiculous arrangement.”

Hinata tips her head up, then turns her full body to face him. She nods at him to continue, hands clasped in her lap, ready to listen.

“We go over the top.”

She blinks. “Over the top how?”

“Affection.”

Her heart sinks. “Excuse me?”

“Like now.” He reaches out to set his hand on hers and it’s…uncomfortable. She automatically pulls it away and he rolls his eyes, annoyed. He grasps it again and slots his fingers between hers. Her face goes bright red and her mind goes cloudy. “Everywhere. Here, middle of the village, on missions, in front of our dads. Especially our dads.”

“I—I’m not understanding,” she breathes out, hand tugging from his. His grip tightens.

“Really lay it on thick,” he continues, “make them regret ever trying to pair us up. Basically, embarrass the hell out of both our clans.”

Her hand finally relaxes and she can focus on the way it feels. She’s surprised that his hand is actually warm, not icy like she’d imagined. Not that she’d ever really imagined what Sasuke’s hands would feel like…but it was interesting. Collecting her thoughts, she responds, “how do you figure that will make them call it off?”

“Think about it,” he responds, leaning in closer, “both our families are uptight. Having the children of the leaders acting ‘unbecoming’.” He pulls up his other hand to air-quote. "Neither of our dads wants us to be happy, not really. It’ll sicken them to the point they’ll have no choice but to separate us.”

Hinata ponders this plan.

It’s a ludicrous idea, she thinks, but she has nothing better to offer. It was like he could read her mind when he tells her, “feel free to throw out your own brilliant ideas.”

She huffs, looking away, eyes landing on their interlocked hands. It’s a very strange sensation to have Sasuke’s fingers interlacing with hers. “I have none.”

“Not surprised,” he scoffs, leaning away from her now. “Then you’re in?”

She bites her lip as she looks back up at him. He has a smirk on his lips, and it irks her that Hanabi’s right. He’s objectively hot (not the word Hinata would use) but his ego is far too big for his head and that is not hot (to her, at least). However, she can’t help but agree to this ridiculous plan. She truly had no better ideas, and she supposes it’s worth a shot. “Fine. We’ll try it, I suppose.”

“Good.” He nods approval and his other hand lifts to beckon her with his index finger. “Now kiss me.”

Hinata pales. “Excuse me?!”

“You’re in, right?” He raises an eyebrow, asking as if his command was as normal as telling someone to smile. She nods, reluctantly, and he curls the finger again. “So…kiss me.”

Hinata darts her eyes to the side. There are quite a few people around, many of whom she recognizes, and that makes her shudder. Unfortunately, that’s the point and that’s why he’s telling her to do it now. So, she sucks in a deep breath.

Hinata leans forward to press her lips to Sasuke’s. It’s a close-mouthed kiss, it’s short, and it is not romantic.

But then the hand that was beckoning her finds the back of her head and keeps her there, and a little gasp escapes her for it.

She does her best not to activate her byakugan, the overwhelming desire to close his main chakra point creeping up on her as his lips move against hers.

When she’s finally able to shove that urge back, she chooses to focus on how his lips feel against hers. She’s not the most experienced in kissing outside of a few clumsy moments as teenagers, but even she has to admit Sasuke might actually be…good at it. He’s not too rough in the way she feared boys would be, but he’s not entirely gentle, either. His lips move naturally against hers, and they’re soft, slick, and…strawberry flavored?

Does Sasuke Uchiha use strawberry-flavored lip balm?

The thought is quickly squashed when a panicked voice calls out. “HINATA?!”

Then Sasuke is being torn away from her, and her eyes fly open to find her cousin’s cascading, long brown hair towering over him.

“Neji!” she gasps out, eyes landing on his veiny ones, looking ready to seal each and every one of Sasuke’s chakra points.

“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing, Uchiha?” Neji snaps, one foot coming to rest on Sasuke’s chest. Hinata whips her head around to see Tenten, mouth covered in shock, and Lee, who is quickly coming up behind Neji in an attempt to subdue the man.

Sasuke smirks smugly up at Neji, propping himself up on his elbows. “Kissing my fiancée. What are you doing, Hyūga?”

Neji stops at that, and Hinata swallows, chest feeling horribly tight.

"Neji…" Lee's voice calls him back, and Neji turns his head to meet his eyes with Hinata’s. The veins around his eyes relax, but he's still glaring.

“Hinata?” Neji’s asking for clarification, and she has no choice but to give it to him. Neji is aware of the marriage, but obviously has no clue about this plan Sasuke has concocted.

She clears her throat, and pulls her shoulders back, projecting confidence. "He’s right, Neji. I was kissing my…fiancé.”

With that Neji removes his foot, but not without shoving it into Sasuke’s chest briefly, causing him to groan and clutch at it. He moves away from Sasuke and turns his body to her. He comes closer and leans over her, in a hushed voice. “Really, Hinata?”

Her lips press into a line as she nods, quickly. He sighs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t think you’d cozy up so quickly,” he whispers, eyes darting to the side to catch Sasuke’s conceited look as he pulls himself to his feet. He returns to her. “Very well. Just…will you be a little less…”

“Horny about it?” Tenten interjects. Hinata recoils, not realizing she had flanked her from the other side. “Don’t give your poor cousin a heart attack.”

“I apologize.” Hinata bows her head, and she knows her face is beet red.

“Come.” Sasuke holds out an indolent hand for her between the two, and Hinata bites her tongue at his commanding attitude. No different than when they were children.

Neji tilts his head at Sasuke, his glare never leaving his expression. “Ask nicely, Uchiha.”

Sasuke clicks his tongue, eyebrow perked at the man. Then he looks back down at Hinata and her heart skips at his words, “come with me, Lady Princess Hinata Hyūga, loveliest, most breath-taking woman in the entire Land of Fire.”

Tenten laughs, loudly. Lee looks at him in confusion. Neji breathes an aggravated sigh.

Hinata’s jaw flexes as Sasuke continues, “please. Is that better?”

Neji doesn’t respond, nor does Hinata, but she takes his hand, regardless.

As he leads her away from Team Gai, she tries to control her breathing.

“Now where is it we’re going?” she asks, quietly, letting their fingers intertwine once more. She’s well aware of the questioning stares they’re receiving from the village folk.

“Dinner with the Uchiha,” he responds nonchalantly, not looking back at her, “time to become acquainted with the family again.”

Hinata’s stomach flips uncomfortably.

It had been a while since she’s seen his entire family together.

Next Chapter ->

#sasuhina #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #hinata hyuga #hyuga hinata #hyuuga hinata #hinata hyuuga #sasuke x hinata #sasuhina fanfic #naruto fanfic #my fic #uprooted #hinata being snarky #sasuke being a shit #hanabi also being a shit #uchiha!survive #neji!survives #arrange marriage au

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dongcheon-rentfree · 2 years

Text

hurt choi mujin x fem! oc 18+ minors dni 1.7k words

warnings: graphic violence, language, smoking, themes of SA, age gap? but not yet haha

choi mujin walked with his head high, shoulders back as a puff of smoke left his lips as he exhaled, his shiny dress shoes clicking against the pavement that was damp from the days rain. he was headed towards his spotless black vehicle parked just down the street from the restaurant, when he heard the familiar sound of a fist on flesh. he normally wouldn’t of batted an eye; if he bothered to care about every unfortunate soul who found themselves getting beat up in an alley he would never have time to do anything else. but something about tonight felt… different. his hand fell from the cars door handle, his cigarette, now finished, falling from his lips and becoming snuffed out under his shoe as he walked. as he approached the source of the commotion, after hearing it from a close distance he realized something; the person being attacked was a girl.

“come on, don’t be like that,” a voice taunted, followed by the sound of a punch. “she fuckin hit me!” the sound of mujins footsteps seemed to pale in comparison to the echoing sounds of violence as he grew closer and closer to the source.

“hold her still,” a new voice said, and the sound of laughing followed as mujin could now see the girl struggling under the grip of two men, and a third standing over her. his hands went to his belt as she squirmed, her arms immobilized under the strength of her attackers. her legs however, unrestrained, flew up to kick the man above her hard in the ribs, sending him stumbling back against the building behind him. perhaps in surprise, the man on her left side faltered, his grip loosening long enough for her to rip her arm from his hold. as the man before her got back to his feet and stepped towards he again, her free hand grabbed the side of his head by his hair and swung his head into the brick wall, and crumbling to the ground. mujin, now close enough to observe in detail but still out of the line of sight, adjust his sunglasses, watching carefully.

the man on her right now let go to check on his fallen friend, now fully freeing her from their grip entirely. one of her attackers charged at her, earning a fist to the face. she was pushed to the ground again by one of the others, who crawled his way on top of her smaller frame. flailing violently underneath him, her fingers fumbled around until her grasp found a large rock, and swung it into the side of his head. he groaned and rolled off her, and she swung the rock into his head again, blood now coating the impromptu weapon as she raised it above the near unconscious man. a fist in her hair yanked her backward.

“you fucking bitch!” his fist collided with her cheek. as she landed on her back on the pavement, his hands wrapped around her neck, stopping the flow of oxygen with his right grip. her feet flailed beneath the two of them as she tried to get away. as her feet scraped against the cement she managed to spin the two of them so she could use the wall as leverage to weasel out of his grip and crawl onto his back, her legs wrapped tightly around his head. he attempted to shake her off as his friend grabbed onto her, her fingers digging into his eye sockets before his accomplice successfully pulled her off

“aghhhhh what the fuck!?” the temporarily blinded one yelled as her foot connected with his ribs, sending him tripping over his unconscious friend and crashing to the ground. the force flung her captor back into the wall, his head connecting with a deafening crack, and the two of them tumbled to the pavement as well. she stood, but before she could catch her breath, the other one swung blindly at her, the girl easily ducking out the way of his punches. he however wasn’t fast enough to miss hers as her fists swung and collided with his jaw again and again. mujin was lighting another cigarette, momentarily distracted before his attention flickered back ti the fight at the sound of a switch blade opening. smoke swirled above his head in delicate spirals from the end of the cigar, as his focus locked on the girl.

she could almost hear the blade swing centimetres away from her skin, slicing the fabric of her clothes before a high swing sliced open her left cheek with a sharp sting. impressively, she caught his next swipe, her fingers wrapping around his wrist tightly, her nails digging into his flesh and causing the blade to fall to the ground with a gently clang. they scrambled, hands fighting over the knife, but ultimately her fingers found it first, wrapping around the blade and causing blood to trickled down her palm. she brandished the weapon in front of her threateningly, as the attacker before her huffed before charging towards her, stupidly running right into the knife. the blade sliced into his stomach, before she pulled it out and stabbed into him again and again until he fell to the ground for the last time.

breathing a sigh of relief for only a second, the only remaining conscious attacker, now having regained some of his vision, wrapped his arms around her torso, lifting her feet off the ground. after flailing around, her shoes found the bricks of the wall once again, allowing her to run up the side of the building and flip over to miraculously land on her feet in front of him. as he charged towards her, she raised the switchblade and directed it into his eye. he slowed in his tracks, twitching slightly and groaned before crashing lifelessly to the ground to join the others at her feet. finally safe for the moment, exhaustion took over, and the girl slumped against the wall, her body ached and the cut in her cheek stung, blood trickling down her face. her eyes closed as she attempted to catch her breath, her back sliding down the cold building to sit on the ground.

as choi mujins shoes clicked on the pavement of the now quiet alleyway, the girls eyelids flung open, glancing around for the potential threat, landing on the sharp dressed man, his cigarette dangling lazily from his lips as he strode towards her and the three motionless bodies of her attackers. despite her efforts, she couldn’t move to run or attack, having used all of her energy fighting for her life. the man chuckled to himself, raising a hand in a gesture to stop. he removed his sunglasses, tucking them safely inside his suit jacket pocket.

“relax,” he soothed. his voice was smooth, and softer than she had expected. “that was impressive.” he smiled. she shifted uncomfortably against the wall, her injuries causing her more and more pain as she sat there staring at him. “tell me..” he asked. “what is your name?”

when she didn’t answer, he just smiled, extending a hand out to her.

“choi mujin.”he introduced himself. she stared up at him, her eyes fully taking in his appearance. his hair was perfectly combed and gelled, not a strand out of place. his shoulders broad and dignified in his un-wrinkled suit, perfectly tailored to his body, tall and slender but still quite muscular. he clearly was in good shape, and he surely stood at least half a foot taller than her height. her gaze traced back up to his face, to the delicate crinkles next to his eyes, and she estimated he was in his forties. sensing her distrust, he smiled, putting his hand in his pocket, and taking a drag from his cigarette with the other.

“you can fight. either you were trained or you’ve been out on the street long enough to learn on your own-,” he paused to exhale. “you are very skilled. i could find a place in my company for you… if you want.” she continued staring up at him, partly still in awe of his perfect features, but also.. was he really offering her a place to stay? she had been on the street for so long she had resigned to believe she would die there. why was a total stranger extending a helping hand?

“or you can stay….here,” he gestured to the alleyway. “clearly you are capable of surviving on your own, however i think you have great potential.” he stomped out his cigarette, staring at the girl. it was his turn to take in the strangers appearance. her black hair was messy from the attack she had suffered, blood drying on the side of her face from the cut on her cheek, her clothes tattered and wet from the damp pavement. blood dripped down her hand from when she had grabbed the knife from the man earlier. she was quite a bit shorter than him, he deduced, even though she was still sat on the ground.

finally, for the first time, their eyes met, hers cold and unforgiving, her personality having been hardened by years alone, and his that surprisingly to her, had a slight youthful sparkle when he looked at her. she attempted to stand, struggling due to the injuries she had with-stained during the fight. he once again offered his hand to her, which this time she decided to take. her hand was small and freezing in his large, warm one. she winced as he pulled her to her unsteady feet, not realizing that by taking his offer, she had unknowingly signed up for something that would change her life forever.

choi mujin smiled to himself as the young woman followed behind him, walking down the long alleyway back to his shiny car, to which he opened the passenger door for her to get in. she took in the atmosphere of the vehicle, it smelled of expensive cologne and his cigarettes. the door shut and she watched the man walk around to the drivers side before getting into the car. turning the ignition on, her eyes began to flutter closed, exhaustion completely taking over as she slumped down in the leather seat, and quickly fell asleep.

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