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sunflower-lilac42 · 5 months

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✧ 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | the hughes brothers ♔

summary: the hughes brothers are made aware of everything they’ve missed in their little sister’s career and everything she hasn’t in theirs.

warnings: feelings of being unwanted, siblings missing important things

notes: part two of 'unwanted feelings'. this takes place at the end of the 25-26 season/she’s one year younger than Luke. i love this so much! i'm so glad you guys have been liking my fics especially my hockey ones. i have had so much motivation and i'm excited for break so i can write more.

part one (unwanted feelings) | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

This is where she drew the line. It sucked, it really did. She thought they weren’t even going to make it. It was her college graduation and her parents had broken the news of the possibility of the three not being there, scheduling conflict so there was nothing they could do.

It was the playoffs and both the Devils and Canucks were contenders with a good chance of making it. She knew this from the beginning of April. But now that it wa sso close to graduation, she knew there was a chance they weren’t going to make it. And if they did, there was a chance they’d have to leave right after the ceremony.

All of her life she’s always said to herself that it was okay and that it wasn’t their fault. And she knew they had no control over which days they played and whether or not they won or lost, it was a team. But deep down, she wanted to blame them. She wanted to blame them for being good at hockey, she wanted to blame them for being first round picks, she wanted to blame them for being apart of good teams, she wanted to blame them for everything. Yet, that wasn’t who she was.

She pushed all of those thoughts aside because they were her brothers. She wanted them to have everything they wanted. She couldn’t possibly be mad at them, but right now, she was fuming.

She stood with her friends waiting to walk out into Michigan Stadium for her last time. She was a nervous ball of energy and she couldn’t help but look at her phone constantly to see the text from their parents to say they made it.

Walking out into the stadium in her graduation gown and cap, y/n’s nervousness didn’t ease. What if she tripped? What if she messed up her speech? What if she made a complete and utter fool of herself? What if they weren’t here?

She sat on the stage they had made waiting to say her speech and she looked out into the audience, not really listening to the words that the president said. Her watch buzzed and she tried to be discreet about reading it, ‘They just got here.’

She scanned the crowd seeing he rmothers words even though she knew that the possibility of her seeing them was slim to none. She continued to wait impatiently and before she knew it she was standing up and making her way over to the podium.

In the stadium seats, Jack sat next to his mom and leaned over, “I didn’t know she was giving a speech.”

Ellen shrugged and said something with an underlying meaning, “Maybe if you were around a bit more you’d know more things.” Jack furrowed his eyebrows and pulled back from her, he tried to think of some reason on why she would say that but came up empty.

Ellen knew y/n’s speech inside and out and she knew what was coming. Her daughter amde her sit on the phone with her as she read it and revised it for almost a month straight. She could give the speech herself at this point. She watched her daughter play with her fingers nervously before setting them on the podium and flipping through her notecards that she told her that she didn’t need but she didn’t listen anyways, making sure that if she forgot it she had them.

“From a young age, I had always been labeled the outcast. It started out as a joke in my family and eventually more and more people recognized it. Hockey was a big deal in my family from my parents to my older brothers but ran out when it got to me. I have no talent on the ice, I always slept and fell, causing me to be somewhat scared of it.

“That’s where the label came from. ‘How could such a talented, atheltic family include you in it?’ My mom and dad always told me differently. I was talented, just on the field in a non athletic way instead of the ice. I found my home in the band room where all the other outcast and loners fit in. It wasn’t always a big deal for me.

“I spent most days of my life in a hockey arena. The blue and red lines engraved into my mine that I couldn’t forget them even if I tried. I sat next to my mom as I watched my brothers score goals, get assists, get checked into the boards that I wasn’t phased when it happened anymore. I was always there for them.

“I was there for the big moments; when Quinn got drafted to Vancouver, when Jack and Luke got drafted to New Jersey. I was there for each of their debuts, when Quinn and Jack played each other for the first time. I was there for the smaller achievements; the games no one else cared about when they were 12, 10, and 8. When they got a medal for participation, when they got a trophy for their team winning in a peewee hockey league.

“I don’t remember the games I went to, I remember the games I didn’t go to. The ones where Jack fell on the ice, the one where Luke got shoved into the boards and Jack had some- choice words we can say, Quinn’s first game as captain, Quinn’s first win as captain.” Y/n had to stop herself from crying before she moved on.

“The one where the three made history of all three playing each other and I had a panic attack because I was worried that they would be mad at me because I wasn’t there so they spent two hours on the phone with me to calm me down. Those are what I remember.”

Ellen eyed her sons to see both sad and happy expressions on their faces. She knew these next words were going to tear them down.

“But what I also remember are the concerts that they never went to because they had just gotten home from practice or from a game and they were too tired. I didn’t mind, the concerts weren’t as important to me as they were. I moved on. I remember the football games that they didn’t go to because it was friday night and they would rather be somewhere else than watching their little sister play in a high school marching band at a high school football game. I moved on, who cares about high school football anyways.

“I remember my senior night that they weren’t there because they were at school or in the NHL and they had better and bigger things to do. I moved on because their careers were more important. I remember my last concert in high school that they weren’t because of the same reasons. I moved on like I always do.

“When I got to University of Michigan, it was a different story. I met my best friend, y/f/n and I realized that no matter everyone who missed these things there was always somebody there that I cared about there. My parents were at every concert they could be at. My parents were at every football game, at every showcase, at every talent show I was in.

“Y/f/n was there for my college concerts, though I don’t know if she was really there for me or for her boyfriend but I still count it.” This elicits laughs from the crowd and y/n could hear her best friend laughing even from where she stood, “She was there at the football games with a custom jersey with ‘Hughes’ on the back, my name under it so everyone knew that it was me she was cheering for, and my favorite number on it.

“She was there to listen to me complained about being out of tune everyday and hating the way I played during a class. She was there when I had practice claiming that she had no one to hang out with and that she didn’t mind sitting in a room for hours listening to me mess up time and time again. She was there for everything.

“University of Michigan is where I found my home, where I found the true meaning of friendship, where I wasn’t just some outcast of my family just because I couldn’t skate on ice. University of Michigan taught me how to love myself for being different, albeit my parents helped in that too. University of Michigan is where I made the friends that I know will be there for me through anything and everything. This college is where I found my place. And I will forever be grateful for it.

“This was a story I hadn’t told anyone in my life. I didn’t want anyone to get any hate from it because I loved, and still do love them. It wasn’t their fault tehy had a game, it wasn’t their fault they had practice, it wasn’t their fault they were good at hockey, it wasn’t there fault they got drafted. They were simply being them and I was simply being me. A girl who loved her family despite everything. And I am still that little girl.

“But deep down is the girl who got crushed everytime she looked up into the audience or the stands and didn’t see those three faces looking back at me. But it’s okay, I moved on. I moved on to become what I am today, and I couldn’t be more grateful for those moments.” She didn’t want to end the speech on a sad note, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Yet, in the back of her mind there was something nagging at her to say more, so she did.

“I’m not someone who likes quotes, but I have to admit I didn’t know how to write this speech. I turned to google for my help and they said to put a quote in here. I think some quotes, mostly the famous ones, are overused and cringy. But my favorite hockey, besides my mom, is Wayne Gretzky. And no, this isn’t the famous ‘You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take’. This is a quote that I had found when trying to write this speech, one where I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for him saying it.

“Wayne Gretzky, one of the greatest, if not the greatest, hockey players to ever live, once said, ‘Procrastination is one of the most common and deadliest of diseases and its toll on success and happiness is heavy’. And it’s true, telling this story right here, right now has lifted a weight off my chest I didn’t even know I had. I want to say one last thank you to the University of Michigan for these psat four years and giving me a load of new friends.”

Y/n waved her hand as she finished and walked back to her seat listening to the applause and light cheers from the crowd with a smile on her face.

Jim and Ellen eyed them throughout the speech but when they took this last glance at them they saw the three of them with tears either falling or still in their eyes. The boys truly didn’t mean to make their sister feel like this, they didn’t want their sister to feel like this. And this was entirely their fault.

✧༺✎༻��

When the ceremony finished, the graduates exited and so did everyone else. Parents and families running about trying to find their kids. Y/n stood with her friends and took pictures with them, taking pictures of them with their family when asked to. She didn’t mind waiting for anyone and in reality, she wasn’t ready to face her brothers just yet.

It took 20 minutes to find her. Getting out of Michigan stadium wasn’t easy any time they were in there and this was no exception. Y/n was standing by her best friend when they found her. They were laughing and talking about something completely random when Jack came up and hugged her.

She jumped in surprise when she felt the boy hug her, turning around and hugging him back, “Hey Jack. Nice job last night.”

Y/n held a smile on her face but when Jack pulled back and she saw the tears not only in his eyes but her other brothers as well, it dropped. She turned to y/b/f and waved her off with a nod of reassurance and she walked away.

“What’s wrong?” Ellen and Jim stepped away to give their children some space as they talked.

“We’re sorry.” Quinn spoke, stepping in front of his two brothers.

“For what?” Y/n was genuinely confused. When she wrote that speech she never really thought about how her brothers would feel.

“What do you mean ‘for what’?” Jack asked in his all too familiar sassy tone.

“Jack. What we mean is that we’re sorry for everything that we have done, or well didn’t do. We’re sorry we didn’t go to your concert, or games, ro your senior night. We don’t really have an excuse.”

“It’s okay you guys, it doesn’t bother me anymore. I’m just glad you were able to make it today.”

“It might not bother you, but it bothers us y/n/n. We’ve missed so many of your achievements and we didn’t even think about how it impacted you.”

“Guys, I promise you it’s okay. Now if you missed my graduation, there would’ve been some hands thrown.”

The three let out laughs, tears still somewhat in their eyes and the thoughts still eating them up. They didn’t biy her words but for this moment, they didn’t wnat to bring it up. It was supposed to be a happy day and right now y/n seemed happy, she was happy, and they didn’t want to ruin it.

Seeing the four of them give each other hugs, their parents walked back over to give their daughter hugs as well. They took pictures much like every other graduate and their family here. They went out to dinner at y/n’s favorite restaurant and talkd about random nonesense.

These feelings that y/n had harbored for years were finally uncovered and she couldn’t be more happier and prouder than herself for doing it.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

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@jasminecaskry85 | @lilyevanswhore

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munsonluhvr · 3 months

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THE CANDY GRAM CONSPIRACY (DAY #1: LOVE LETTER EVENT)

contents: SFW (light cussing). Steve, your secret admirer, sends you a candy gram with a compelling message. word count - 2k

notes: happy first day of the love letter event. I'm soo excited to share this, and all the other fics written for this event, with you. happy love week! - Helen

love letter event masterlist

“You’re an idiot, Steve.” Dustin Henderson says, shaking his head as he stands with Steve at the candy gram table. “She’s going to be totally freaked out if she gets a message from someone anonymous and you think she’s going to want to show up to the restaurant? Dumbest way to waste ten dollars.” Steve fumbles with his pockets, searching for the paper bills he made sure he brought to school for this exact occasion. Finally, Steve grasps the money in his pocket, pulling it out swiftly and handing it to the girl behind the table. “But she’ll find out it’s just me, I mean I think she already knows I like her.”

“Steve, you’re completely missing the point.” Dustin says.

The girl running the candy gram table puts Steve’s money in the metal lockbox, taking a pen and a note card to give to Steve. As she listens the two boys converse, she can’t help but roll her eyes. “Write a little message if you would like. It’ll go with the candy gram.”

“It’s going to work, Dustin, you just watch.” Steve says, glancing at Dustin. Steve bends down, strands of his hair falling across his forehead. He sticks out his tongue between his lip, captured by concentration.

From afar, I watch you shine, In every step, a dance divine. Though hidden deep, my feelings soar, In this secret, I adore you more.

Your presence, a joy that lights up my day, Secretly admiring in every single way. So, here’s a small poem, a whisper, a sign, Of a love that’s deep, and ever so fine.

Love, Your Secret Admirer (Meet me at Enzo’s, tonight, at 9)

Steve leans back, positively satisfied by his poetry skills. He hands the small notecard to Dustin who takes it in his hand, his eyes pinched in analyzation. After a minute, Dustin drops his hand, his face expressing how impressed he was; he hands the card back to Steve. “I didn’t know you could write poetry.”

You slump in your desk chair, your elbow resting on the tabletop, your chin resting in your hand. You watch as the candy gram girls pass by your desk, showcasing that you’re one class closer to realizing you were an idiot for thinking Steve Harrington would buy you a candy gram.

It was your fourth class, only two periods left in the day, and you had only received three candy grams: one from your parents, the other two from your best friends. Of course, you were grateful for the ones you got, you loved the thoughtful gifts from your parents and friends, but was it so terrible to wish Steve would demonstrate that he feels the same way as you do?

You and Steve were friends, of some sort, existing in an ambivalent grey area. Steve and you had experienced many ‘close calls:’ your lips brushing his once or twice, a couple kisses here and there, and many, just so many, instances of touches on each other’s arms and hands that lingered for a little too long. However, Steve never told you he liked you, never made the effort to ask you out.

You’re zoning out in class, whispers going on behind you as girls receive candy grams from their boyfriends or friends distracting you from your geometry class. Just as your mind is going around the bend to being mad at Steve, about to promise to never talk to him again, a presence next to you jolts you out of your mind. A girl with long blond hair, tied back in a ponytail, a chubby cheek smile on her face, places a tiny, plush teddy bear holding a small bag of conversation heart candies on your desk. “It came with this,” the girl says, placing an envelope onto your desk as well. She saunters off quickly, squeaking ‘bye’ to your math teacher, closing the door behind her.

You sit still, your eyes trained on the teddy bear that stares back at you. It’s white, pink hearts scattered across it’s body. It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

For a moment, you’re excited again, the potential of the bear being sent by Steve sending your hopes soaring up to the sky. You tear the flap away from the body of the envelope, sliding out the small note card. Your eyes scan the page, flying down to the bottom to find Steve’s signature – except it’s not there; ‘Love, your Secret Admirer. Meet me at Enzo’s, tonight, at 9’ is in its place. You frown. You look above the signature line, your eyes reading a poem scribbled across the page. Your heart swells, pulsing with toothachingly sweet emotions. Who wrote this?

As you put your textbooks into your locker, exchanging them out for the textbooks for your next class, your best friends Rena and Steph are bent over the secret admirer note. “Listen, if you don’t want whoever wrote this poem because you’re stuck on Steve, I’ll take him.” Rena says, shaking her head as she begins to read the poem for the third time.

“And he’s taking you to Enzo’s. My dad told my mom he’d take her there for their wedding anniversary, my mom got super dressed up and everything, and he made them leave and go to Benny’s Burgers instead because it was too expensive.” Steph says, glancing up at you. “Aren’t you curious to find out who sent you the candy gram?”

You shrug, closing the door of your locker. “I guess but I just don’t understand Steve. We have all this tension between us, but he won’t ask me out. Do you think he’s seeing someone else?” You ask, frowning.

“Who cares? You have someone writing you poetry and you’re giving a fuck about Steve?” Rena says with a scoff. “That head of hair lost his chance, now you have someone confessing their love for you through poetry. Say ‘Sayonara Steve’ already.”

You pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Steph wraps an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close to her, while shooting a look at Rena for her abrasiveness. “How about this. Rena and I will come over later and help you get ready for your date – it’ll be fun, I promise.”

You nod, leaning into your friend. “Come over early, I’ll need a total makeover.”

“I wonder who it could be?” Rena says, a fistful of your hair in her hand, a brush in her other hand. You sit at your vanity table, your hands resting on your lap as Rena strokes the brush through your hair, dividing sections of your hair to begin styling it. “Maybe it’s that Gareth guy, he’s always staring at you from across the cafeteria.”

Steph laughs from across the room, her body stretched out across your bed, one of your magazines in her hands. “Gareth wouldn’t have the balls to write poetry and send it to a girl.”

You sigh listening to your friends create conspiracies about who wrote the note, making fictitious reasons for the secret admirer to go such lengths to ask you out. You were curious too, your stomach twisting with anticipation. What if you didn’t like who the secret admirer was once his identity is revealed. “Are we sure this isn’t a prank?” You ask, beginning to worry.

“That would be one expensive prank; I had to empty my piggy bank to send you both candy grams.” Rena mutters, beginning to put pins in your hair.

Steph hums. “It’s not a prank, y/n, just someone who’s trying to be unique with asking you out to dinner.”

You sigh again, staring at your reflection. You notice your pout that’s settled on your mouth, the disappointment of no candy gram from Steve bumming you out. Maybe this was a sign to let Steve go, allow others into your life. You take a deep breath, deciding to change your attitude.

“What do you guys think I should wear?”

At the same time, Rena and Steph begin to ramble, Steph getting up from her seat on your bed to flip through the hangers in your closet. Rena steps away from you, looking at her work on your hair: your hair is half up, half down, framing your face perfectly. She hums, satisfied, and picks up some of your makeup on your vanity. “I think you should wear that pink dress; you know the one that goes to your mid-thigh, the little bows on the shoulder.”

“This one?” Steph says, pulling the exact dress out of the closet. “It’s perfect, you have to wear it, y/n.”

You look over your shoulder, smiling as you nod. “You’re right it’s perfect.”

Nine o’clock comes around faster than you were prepared for, your friends climbing into Steph’s station wagon to drive you to Enzo’s. The ride over was short, bringing you passed downtown Hawkins, the dark streets illuminated by the lit-up streetlights. Your stomach twisted with anticipation and nervousness, the emotions rising up in your throat. In several minutes, Steph pulls up to the front of Enzo’s, the grand sign hanging above the restaurants entrance.

“Be brave!” Rena says, turning in the passenger seat to look at you in the backseat. “You look stunning, whoever it is will be blown away.”

Steph turns to look at you too, an encouraging smile on her face. “Give whoever it is a chance, the poem was amazing, they might surprise you.”

You nod, unlatching the car door. “Thank you guys for everything, I would never look this good if it weren’t for you both.”

They laugh waving goodbye to you. You shut the car door behind you once you’re out, propelling yourself towards the restaurant door. “Don’t forget to call us and tell us everything when you get home,” Rena exclaims, hanging out the passenger window. Steph begins to pull away from the building, Rena waving until she pulls herself back into the car. And you’re left alone.

Your friend’s advice echo’s in your mind; ‘give whoever it is a chance.’ No matter who it is, you’re going to have a good time tonight, appreciating the kind gesture of a sweet poem and an amazing dinner at Enzo’s. Your friends had put a lot of effort to make you feel good about yourself, preparing you for such a unique situation. With one last deep breath, you pull the restaurant door open, immediately greeted by the mouthwatering smell of Italian food.

The restaurant is dark, and busy, Valentine’s day proving to be one of their busiest days of the year. The tables are all crowded, the low hum of conversation passing through the building. There is a glow that illuminates the inside, candles lit at every table adding a soft, romantic essence. Your eyes scan the tables, in search of spotting a familiar face. Your fingers grasp each other, your digits squeezing together with nervousness. How will you ever find your secret admirer?

Just then, the room goes dark, your sight blinded by a pair of hands that cover your eyes. You didn’t know if you should scream or jaw your elbow backwards into the person that stands behind you. Your shoulders ease when a familiar voices murmurs into your ear. “Guess who?”

You smile wide, spinning yourself around. Steve stands before you, wearing a crisp tux, his hair slicked back, a flower bouquet in his hand. “Steve?” you say, throwing your arms around him. “You sent me the candy gram?”

Steve nods, his arms wrapping around your torso. “Were you hoping it was someone else?”

You shake your head, leaning your body against him. “No, I was wishing it was you.”

Steve leans back from your embrace, brushing the back of your hand across your cheekbone. “You look absolutely beautiful, y/n.” Steve says, his eyes taking in every inch of your face. “I should have asked you to be my girlfriend sooner, but I wanted it to be special. Asking on Valentine’s day seems cliché, but I liked the idea.”

Your eyebrows raise, your mouth opening slightly. “T-To be your girlfriend?”

Steve nods, flipping his hand over for the pad of his thumb to brush across your bottom lip. “Will you?”

Leaning on the tip of your toes, you push your lips into Steve’s, doing away with all the ‘almost’ kisses you’ve had with him. “Of course, I will,” you murmur against his mouth.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader

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atinyniki · 7 months

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100 things i like love about you.

group: stray kids !

pairing: nonidol!lee know x f!reader

genre: romance, slow burn, fluff, little angst???

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, drinking, vomiting, kissing, other members of JYP groups are side characters, overthinker lino, whipped reader, lee know is referred to as minho and min.

authors note: hiii im niki (nikita) ! this is my first time writing a fic and i decided to try and make one for lee knows birthday. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 6191

(pt. 2)

it’s mid july and you’re sat at your computer at home, unable to think about what you should get your roommate for his birthday.

it’s never too early to plan right?

minho had given you the best birthday you could have possibly asked for. he brought you all of your favorite snacks and you two pulled an all nighter watching dorky kdramas.

you truly didn’t know how to feel about the gift he gave you at the end of the day though. all he gave you was an envelope before he headed to bed.

you still remember everything that was said in the note he gave you. you didn’t know minho had it in him to write such a beautiful letter. inside were a few cute polaroids you guys took over the years as well.

you wanted minho’s birthday gift to be as special as his was to you.

then it hit you.

the best idea ever.

you decide to call it “100 things”. you knew minho deserved a thoughtful gift, and you knew he’d appreciate it. you immediately went out to buy cute notecards and kitty print washi tape.

once you returned, you got back on your laptop and check the date.

july 16… perfect !

you decided that you’re going to use this extra day to plan. you open an empty document and start creating a list.

at first, you thought it’d be too difficult to think of so many things, but once you actually started writing it was difficult to stop yourself. you start wondering if minho would realize your true feelings towards him after reading all those cards.

it was no secret to you or your friends that you’ve been head over heels for lee minho for the past two or so years.

you make sure to brainstorm carefully. you don’t know what you would do if he were to find out, and quite honestly you didn’t want to pain yourself with the thought either.

you were brought out of your thoughts when you heard a loud knock on the door. you quickly saved your progress, and shut your laptop.

“come in!”

as soon as minho opened the door, you were met with a toothy grin on his face.

“i made your favorite, are you hungry?” you nodded quickly, blushing a little at the gesture, but not enough for minho to notice.

slowly, you got out of your chair and made your way to the door. you senses were immediately filled with the savory aromas, and you couldn’t help but smile.

you’ve always loved minho’s cooking, and minho loved cooking, so it worked out perfectly for the both of you.

what you didn’t know though, was that the main reason he always cooked for you was to see that adorable smile on your face while you were eating. he loved the way your cheeks would puff up whenever you stuffed more food in your mouth and how you’d thank him with a grin after every meal.

he didn’t mean to be weird, but he always found himself staring at you while eating. normally, he’d try to focus on finishing his food but he couldn’t help but watch your cheeks inflate more and more.

this time was no different. you used the chopsticks to quickly fish out the bell peppers, something minho noticed you’ve always done.

you glance over at minho to see that he’s not even half done with his plate yet.

“what’s wrong? are you not hungry?”

“oh no, sorry. i just zoned out i guess” he continued eating but stopped again when he noticed your eyes soften.

“do you want to watch a movie after this? you don’t have to, i just thought you needed a break from all your wo-“

“yeah of course y/n.” he cut off your rambling, and chuckled a little at your words. you smiled back, quickly finishing your food and getting up to wash your plate.

minho finished not too long after, and he went to go meet you at the couch. “so what do you want to watch?” you asked. “we can continue watching that show we were watching earlier if you want”

you put on the show and laid back, grabbing a blanket from your side to lay over the both of you. minho stared intently at the tv, and you were starting to think he loved this show even more than you did. soon you found yourself staring at his eyes, his gaze still focused on the tv. you made a mental note to add it to the list. there was just something about his brown boba eyes that you found so perfect.

soon, you started to doze off, but tried your best to stay awake. it was the best part of the show, when the leads find out they’ve been in love with each other for months, but you were tired. you’ve studied for so long today, and you just couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.

your eyes slowly fluttered shut, your breathing becoming even. not too long after, the episode ended and minho was broken out of his trance. he was so focused on the plot that he didn’t even notice you had fallen asleep. a smile slowly appeared on his face, you looked so peaceful when you were sleeping.

minho carefully pushed himself off the couch, not wanting to wake you, and went over to your room. he pulled up the covers and kept the door wide open.

quickly, he made his way back to the living room and picked you up, making sure not to shake you that much. he carried you to your room, silently giggling at the way you nuzzled into his warmth. he placed you down on the bed carefully, and tucked you in.

he left your room and shut the door behind him. he wondered if you could hear how fast his heart was beating. he noticed the kitty washi tape on your desk, and reminded himself to ask you if he could borrow it later.

you woke up the next morning, not remembering how you got into your bed. you got ready for the day ahead, even though you were gonna spend most of it inside.

you quickly made yourself a bagel, and headed back to your room to write. you decided on writing about his bunny teeth first. his cute bunny teeth that would peek out whenever he was sleeping or focused on something. you thought his bunny teeth suited him wonderfully.

you made sure to make the note sound as friendly as possible, you didn’t want to ruin your friendship after all. you kept writing, but it all sounded too sappy. when you finally got it right, you put all the wasted notecards in the bin, and headed to the living room again to watch the last of the episode you missed last night.

on your way to the living room, you passed by minho’s room, but you didn’t expect him to still be asleep. his bunny teeth were on full display, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way his face is still puffy from his sleeping state.

you quickly make your way to the kitchen, cooking breakfast for minho to surprise him.

noticing that he wasn’t awake yet, you left the house as quietly as you could and ran to the local convenience store to buy him some pudding.

once you reenter your house, you see minho walking out of the corridor, indicating that he’s probably just gotten ready for the day. he was surprised to see food on the table, and even more surprised to see 3 cups of pudding in your hands. the second he saw what you were holding, his eyes lit up and he grinned.

“awhhh you did all this for meeee?” he teased. “shut up, this is just for last night” you retorted. you made your way to minho and handed him a pudding cup, storing the remaining two in the fridge to cool.

“thank you, y/n”

you were a little thrown off by the sincerity in his voice, contradicting the teasing voice he had just used. your heart fluttered at the tone, “your welcome” you quickly mumbled.

you watched as he quickly finished his food and headed back to his room. you didn’t really feel like watching your show right now anymore, so you walked back into your room to quickly complete your list.

a week later, you were working on an upcoming assignment, and you jumped a little when you heard your phone ringing. you smiled when you saw the name, “jinnie” written in bold at the top.

“hyunjin! hey, what’s up?”

“hey y/nnie. i was just wondering if you were coming to the party tonight!” you weren’t much of a partier, it wasn’t really your thing. “probably not, why?” hyunjins exaggerated groan made you laugh.

“but you never come to parties! please?” he begged. “no, there’s nothing to do there anyways”

“what do you mean? there’s lots to do! we play so many games and…”

“and…?”

“minho’s gonna be there”

“wait what? minho never goes to parties though?” you were careful not to talk too loudly so minho wouldn’t hear. “yeah, he wanted to see chan since it’s been so long”, hyunjin started giggling at how invested you were now.

“fine, i’ll think about it, but only if minho agrees to drive me.”

“fine with me! hopefully i’ll see you there y/nnie. bye now!” you laughed a little at his excitement. “bye jinnie”

minho was deep in his work during your phone call, trying to think of new lines to implement into his song. all of a sudden, he heard a knock on his door. “come in!”

you make your way into his room stepping over the mess on the floor. you know he always gets like this when he’s working on new songs. “are you going to the party tonight?”

“yeah, you going?”

“yeah, hyunjin somehow convinced me to” you awkwardly chuckle.

“i’m guessing you need a ride?”, you laughed. “well yeah, obviously”, you retorted, rolling your eyes. he chuckled at your actions, “i’d be happy to drive you”

you walk over to him and ruffle his hair playfully “thanks min!” and you trotted out. all he could do was stare at the door as left, still in shock. he started to wonder if you’d play with his hair like that if you two were actually together, but he quickly snapped himself out of it and decided not to pain himself with such thoughts.

a couple hours later, you pick out a nice red dress and do your makeup. you know jisung’s parties are always crazy, hyunjin’s always talking about them. you expect there to be a lot of partying, so you dress nice.

you make your way out just on time, minho’s exiting his room too, but halts his movements when he sees you. he’s never seen you like this before, and suddenly he feels underdressed. he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

you seem to notice this, and your confidence has suddenly boosted. “you can stop staring now”, a smug smile plastered on your face.

minho meets your gaze and suddenly realizes what he’s been doing. “oh what- wait sorry i didnt realize i was-“, you giggled at his stammering.

“dork”

you quickly made your way to the entrance of your home. minho’s ears start to turn the same shade as his crimson cheeks, frozen in the corridor.

“COME ON WE’RE GONNA BE LATE” you yell from the hall.

he rushes to the door and grabs his keys, locking the door behind him and settling in his car. he waits for you to get in, and then you’re off to jisung’s.

the drive wasn’t too far away, but it felt like forever for minho. you were sat there humming a song in peace, but he couldn’t get his mind off of what happened before in the hall.

could you see how much he liked you? did he make you uncomfortable? thoughts like these were running through his mind the entire time, but he was just hoping that he could forget about them at the party.

when you both walked into jisung’s house, you were instantly greeted by changbin, who was sitting on the couch near the front door with hyunjin.

“Y/N! YOU MADE IT” hyunjin yelled out of excitement.

“YAH! keep it down hyunjin” changbin scolded.

you laughed and made your way into the kitchen, where you saw chan greet minho with a smile. you were met with ryujin and yuna, who squealed at the sight of you.

“y/n… finally at a party hm?”, yuna said as she pulled you in for a hug. ryujin chimed in, “that dress is gorgeous by the way”. you smiled, “thank you”. you don’t wear dresses very often, but they make you feel pretty. maybe you should start wearing them more.

the drinks were all set out on the table, you haven’t had any alcohol in a while. minho had already told you beforehand that he wouldn’t be drinking so he could drive you home safe, so you figured you might as well. you took a shot with yeji.

and another.

and then another…

it was too early in the party to get wasted, but to be honest you didn’t really care. it’s been a while since you drank and you wanted to let loose.

“shall we start the games?” asked jisung.

“what types of games?” questioned changbin.

“oh you know… the usual”

you haven’t been to any of ji’s parties, so you weren’t really sure what the usual was. it’s not like you were sober enough to care anyways.

the set of games started with 7 minutes in heaven.

minho’s heart dropped. he was scared. the thought of you kissing one of the guys here made him sick to his stomach.

“y/n’s turn first!”, seungmin slurred.

you slowly went over to the hat to pick a name out.

“chan” you read aloud.

slowly, chan got up and led you to the room. it was dark, but the rules were the rules. you sat down on the bed with chan, a small frown on your face.

he laughed a little at your disappointment, “what’s wrong, were you hoping to pick minho?”

your eyes widened and you stared up to look at him. “how did you-“

“you’re not very good at hiding your feelings you know”, he cuts you off and smiles at you again.

“i’m sorry chan, i know this isn’t how the game is really supposed to be played but i want to save my first kiss for someone special and-“

“FIRST KISS?!” chan screamed.

you smacked a hand over his mouth, “shut up they’ll hear you!” you whispered

“sorry, sorry” he mumbled

minho heard chan through the thin walls of the room. it wasn’t too hard to hear considering the fact that chan practically yelled it. minho’s heart dropped straight to his stomach. did chan just steal your first kiss? were you even thinking straight considering that you were drunk?

questions ran through his mind, and hyunjin noticed minho’s eyes darting around the room. hyunjin holds on to minho’s shoulder, “you okay min?”

“yeah i’m fine, i’m gonna go grab some water”

once minho returns, he sees that you and chan have already left the room.

“have fun you two?” jeongin teased.

“you know we did”, you replied with a wink.

chan started laughing, and the lump growing in minho’s throat started growing bigger.

suddenly, you felt sick. it was probably the alcohol, so you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom.

worried, minho followed you there, only to see you on the ground in front of the toilet. he quickly rushed to you and held your hair so it wouldn’t get wet. you were embarrassed but it’s not like you could really do anything when you’re throwing up buckets.

you had finally calmed down and looked at him. his hands were intertwined with yours, and you made sure to add his touch to the list too. pure worry swirled around in his chocolate eyes.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-“

“it’s okay. are you feeling better? do you want to leave?”

you really did just want to go home and rest, but didn’t want minho to miss out on the fun.

“do you want to stay?”, you asked hesitantly.

“if you’re feeling sick i’m more than happy to bring you home now y/n.” ‘you’re my top priority’ he wanted to add.

he helped you up and dried your face after you washed it, he preferred you without makeup anyways. it was easier to see your perfect features clearly. he tucked a stray hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear, and walked out of the bathroom with you.

“guys y/n is feeling a little sick so we’ll have to be leaving now. sorry to cut it so short” he quickly announces. he leads you out, listening to the “get well soon!”s and “hope you feel better”s. the drive back home is silent. minho can’t stop thinking about what happened between you and chan today. he didn’t know that you’ve never kissed anyone before. and now that he knows, he wished you had saved it for him.

you arrive home and he walks you back into your room. minho brings you your sweats and a t-shirt, his t-shirt, along with a pair of undergarments straight from the dryer. you reminded yourself to add to the list later. you admired how caring he was towards people, even if he didn’t show it much.

“call me if you need help okay? i’ll be right outside the door. tell me when you’re done changing”

not too long after, you call him back in your room. he smiled at you, the oversized t-shirt hanging off one of your shoulders. he probably thought you’d be too drunk to notice, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like if you were to steal his clothes everyday to wear.

you make your way into the bed, exhausted and tired from what had happened earlier. minho places a glass of water next to you, and sits down on the bed next to you. you didn’t mean to, but you couldn’t stop yourself from cuddling up into the warmth of his body.

he let himself sink down a little in the pillows, so it was more comfortable for you. his heart was beating so fast that he thought you could hear it. he couldn’t control his thoughts, and his mind drifted back to what happened between you and chan.

“was chan really your first kiss?, he asks softly. you suddenly felt a pang in your chest. “no, we just talked. i told him i wanted to save my first kiss for someone special and he kind of freaked”

minho let out a light sigh of relief, and prayed you didn’t hear. he began to rub soothing circles on your back with his thumbs.

you know minho isn’t a very big fan of physical touch, but the gesture didn’t go unnoticed. in fact, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. you felt tears well up in your eyes, no one has really taken the time to care for you like this.

as much as you tried to fight it, light sobs shook your body. you’ve been so overwhelmed with your feelings, you truly just needed a hug. minho felt your body shake, and pulled away in panic.

he slid down further on the bed. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”, he made sure to speak softly. he didn’t want to overwhelm you. you clutched his shirt tightly in your hands, balled into fists.

he was scared. he didn’t know what was wrong, but the least he could do was be there for you. he stayed. he made sure to stay awake till you fell asleep. and soon after, sleep overtook his body as well.

you never talked about that night after that. you woke up in his arms that day, you still remember the way your heart started doing somersaults. he later brought you all the essentials for your hangover, and cooked you some food too. you couldn’t get over the domesticity of it all. you wanted him to be there for the rest of your life. you just couldn’t spit it out already.

you never returned his shirt.

a couple weeks later, you’re writing another card again, this time about his ears. you found it adorable the way they would get red whenever he was flustered.

you hear the door open and check the time. it’s late, almost half past midnight. you open your door to see a disheveled minho staring at you. your heart cracks at the sight.

“sorry, did i wake you? i just got back from dance, i didn’t-“

“no it’s fine, i was up working on… a couple assignments. are you okay?”

minho didn’t answer your question. not because he was ignoring you but just because he didn’t know how to.

you tell him you’d be right back, and run over to the bathroom, leaving him in the hallways confused. while he waits for you, he places down his bag and gets out a comfortable shirt and some sweats.

you run a warm bubble bath for him, making sure it wasn’t uncomfortably hot, and put in a couple bath salts to color the water a soft shade of pink.

you make your way back to minho’s room. “min”, you spoke softly, “i ran you a bubble bath”

his heart twists at your tone, he wasn’t expecting something like this. he wanted to thank you, but he was too exhausted to do so, so he just smiled. he walked over to the bathroom and locked the door. you hoped he’d feel better soon.

it was early september now, and you were writing another one of your notes. you thought minho would really appreciate your gift, you just had a lot of trouble making it sound more platonic.

minho knocked on your door again, handing you a plate with cut up fruit on it. you smiled at him, “thanks min”. and got back to work.

“what’re you working on?”

“oh nothing important, just a present”

he didn’t think anything of it so he left it alone. as he was walking out, he saw your trash bin filled to the brim. “i’ll swap this out”

“oh sorry! i didn’t notice it was that full already. thanks again minho”

now, minho wasn’t trying to snoop. he was honestly just trying to help you. he was taking out the trash when one of the scrapped notecards fell out the bin. he picked it up and read the title. ‘your lips’

he wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but he was curious, and couldn’t stop himself from reading the rest. ‘i love the way your lips sit-‘ and just a bunch of scribbles.

his heart drops. were you writing love letters to someone? he picked up another one. ‘your warmth’ ‘i love the way your warmth makes me feel like im wrapped in a safety blanket-’ and more scribbles

who was making you feel this way? minho decided not to ask about it. he didn’t think you’d appreciate his snooping. he trashed the letters and made his way into his room. he wrapped himself in a blanket, but his room just felt cold.

everything felt cold. minho felt cold. maybe he was too late. maybe he should have confessed to you a year ago. he felt empty. he couldn’t sleep that night.

it was nearing the end of october now, meaning minho’s birthday was coming up. you two have gotten closer over the past couple months, and you couldn’t be more grateful, but recently he seemed off.

when you wake up, you quickly go to the convenience store to grab some flour. even though you already had a gift, you wanted his birthday to be special. he had no plans so you figured why not?

while at the store, you also made sure to pick up some blue food dye for the frosting.

recently, minho couldn’t get seem to get out out his mind. he wondered if you were a secret admirer of someone, or maybe you were seeing them. he hasn’t been as affectionate recently either, he didn’t want to ruin anything for you.

it’s october 24th now, just one more day until his birthday. you prepare your cards, and place them neatly in a decorated blue box. you decided that you’d write the last one at midnight on his birthday along with a small letter.

you leave your room to see minho at the kitchen table, quickly eating lunch before he went out for groceries.

you groaned “oh come on, stay home! it’s your birthday tomorrow for gods sake.” he laughed at your whining “i’ll go, just text me the list.”, you continued.

“nah i need some fresh air anyways. do you want to…”, he trailed off.

“want to what?”

“would you like to come with me?”

you didn’t understand why he was so hesitant, but you nodded and just grabbed your jacket.

you both arrived at the shop and you immediately ran off towards the pastry section. minho had to chase after you so he didn’t lose you.

“do you want the cherry or the peach filled ones?”, you asked him excitedly.

“cherry”

minho couldn’t help but smile at you. he wished he could go grocery shopping with you for the rest of his life, but he couldn’t. he stopped his mind before it could get off track, and decided to focus on his time with you instead.

you two finish grocery shopping, and you made sure to grab an extra two cups of pudding.

it was now nearing the end of the day, only two hours before midnight. you set up your gift, and got your last card ready for writing later.

as the time got closer, you suddenly became nervous. you were worried that minho would be able to see right through you and discover your true feelings.

it’s was only ten minutes before his birthday. once you had finished brainstorming what you would write on his last card, you made your way over to his room at 11:58.

you knocked quietly on the door. “min? can i come in?”. no answer.

you thought he’d fallen asleep, so you opened the door and peered through the crack, not wanting the hallways lights to wake him. to your surprise you see minho at his desk, busy with some work. he hummed along to the tune of the track, his voice low.

he hadn’t heard you come in due to his noise-canceling headset. you checked your phone. october 25. you slowly walked over to his chair where he was sitting and put your hands over his.

he shook a little bit, a little surprised by the sudden touch and he took off his headset. “sorry i didn’t mean to startle you…”, you paused. “happy birthday min”

he teared up a little at the softness in your voice while saying this. he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, and soon it became a grin. you were happy to see him smile, and wondered if he’d feel the same way after opening your gift. “thank you y/n”.

you heard a small quiver in his voice, but accounted it for his tiredness.

“go to sleep soon, we have a long day tomorrow”

“oh yeah? what are we doing?”, you giggled. “making you the best cake you’ll ever have”, he smiled at your confidence. he was a great cook, but isn’t all that great at making sweets.

“thank you, y/n. it means a lot that you waited down to the minute”

your eyes widened a little at his sincerity. he only uses this soft voice when you’re sick or dozing off.

“of course min, goodnight”

you walked into your room and you felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. you packed up all the cards and decorated the box with cute little cat drawings.

you decided to head to bed for the night, and set your alarm at the same time as minho’s. you didn’t want to miss a single second with him.

you got ready for the day ahead, meeting minho in the kitchen. you got the cocoa powder out from the pantry. “what do you say we have some chocolate cake for breakfast?”

“hopefully you don’t set the kitchen on fire again”

you thought back to the last time you tried to bake something last time. you got distracted watching tv and couldn’t smell the poor pie burning.

you and minho began to make the batter, some splattering on the counter. while mixing, some of the batter got on your finger, and you couldn’t stop yourself from tasting it. even though it probably isn’t safe to eat raw eggs, a drop can’t hurt right?

you turn to see minho staring at you, laughing. “you just couldn’t resist, huh?”

you turned back to your bowl and continued mixing, and minho couldn’t help but smile. he wondered what it would be like if you could always cook together.

minho began to work on making the frosting, a light chocolate buttercream. you put the cake in the oven and waited for it to finish while minho brought out the cooling rack and placed it on the counter.

you checked the time. 1:47 PM. you didn’t expect this to take so long, and your stomach was grumbling just about every second.

minho laughed at your groaning. “would you like some pudding?”

“no i’m okay, i’ll just wait for the cake”

minho grabbed a spoon from the drawer and picked up some pudding.

“here, you’re hungry”

all you could do was smile. you wanted minho to enjoy his pudding, but if you were going to be honest, you were really hungry.

you finally gave in, the vanilla coating your tongue. you hummed in satisfaction. “thank you minho!”

he couldn’t help but smile at how you sounded like a child. the cake was finally finished after a while, and minho went to go chill the cake while you enjoyed your pudding.

once the cake was fully baked through, you grabbed the piping bag and started icing the cake. you drew pretty chocolate rosettes around the top.

minho admired your skill, surprised that you knew how to pipe perfect rosettes. he continued to let you do your thing, and soon the cake was done.

it was about 2:38 now, and you both were so hungry. you each cut yourself a slice of cake and sat down at the couch.

“oh my gosh this is amazing, genuinely the best chocolate cake i’ve ever had”

after hearing minho’s reaction you were glad you had looked up so many recipes.

“thank you”, you replied, mouth still full.

minho loved seeing how happy you were while you were eating. it’s great to appreciate good food.

not too long after, you both finish your cake and put the rest in the fridge. you both sit back down on the couch to watch a movie. you decided to treat minho to a horror movie, since he loved them.

you were a little skeptical about it, since you get scared easily, but figured you should make an exception today, for him. minho didn’t understand why you were being so incredibly caring, but he didn’t mind it.

you started the movie, and the intro was already unsettling. you started to shift in your seat uncomfortably next to minho. you tried not to move too much since you didn’t want to bother.

the movie started getting more suspenseful. you were practically on edge, trying not to make a noise. all of a sudden you feel something warm under the blanked. you tore your eyes off of the tv to see minho staring at you.

“are you okay? if it’s too scary i can shut it off”

as much as you wanted to be honest, you couldn’t. “no it’s okay, i don’t mind”

minho’s hand never let go of yours during the duration of the rest of the movie. it was heavily comforting, and you didn’t seem to be as scared anymore.

“i can’t believe you did all this for me y/n. i was really just planning on treating myself to some pudding today.”

“well, im not done just yet”

minho was appalled. “there’s more?!”, he exclaimed. “it’s nothing much, just meet me in your room in five, i have to get it ready.”

minho was curious as to what it could possibly be. he made his way back to his room, while you grabbed the decorated blue box and made sure the notecards were sorted in the right order.

you make your way to minho’s room, your heart beating loudly. you suddenly felt incredibly nervous, but it’s not like you could change your mind now.

minho’s eyes drift to the blue box in your hands. “what’s that?”. you sit on the bed next to him and hand him the box.

“open it”

he removed the lid of the box and his jaw dropped. the notecards. he picked one up, the first line had the date and time. ‘your smile’

‘you have such an amazing smile. i love the way your eyes crinkle and how you smile with your whole being. it warms my heart to be able to see it so often’

he was speechless. he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. he picked up another card. ‘the mole on your nose’, and then another, ‘your lips’, except this time, the description was complete.

you were practically beaming at him as he shuffled through the cards. but you didn’t expect him to look back up at you with tears in his eyes.

i love you so much

your eyes widened.

shit. did he just say that out loud?

“i’m sorry, i didn’t- i didn’t mean to say that out loud”

“you love me…?”, you stared at him in complete shock. you didn’t know what to say.

fuck. he knew there was no turning back now. “of course i love you. how could i not? you do so much for me y/n. you make me feel like i can be myself. your touch feels like im being lit on fire. my heart feels like it’s going to beat out my chest every time i see you. not to mention you’re absolutely gorgeous and-“

before he could say anything else, you crashed your lips into his. you didn’t know where it was going or what you were going to do, but you knew you wanted to save your first for someone special. you wanted to save it for minho. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. the kiss wasn’t really urgent or needy, and instead it was comforting. you loved the feeling of his lips on yours.

you slowly pulled away from him, foreheads touching and breath fanning just under his nose. “you don’t know how long i’ve waited to do that”, your words coming out breathy.

you can’t get over how beautiful minho looks right now. his hair is a mess due to your hands pulling at it. his lips swollen and pink from the kiss you had just shared.

“i love you y/n”

you kiss the small mole on his nose and smile at him.

“i love you more minho”

his entire face lit up at those few words. he let the tears fall freely now, burying his head into your shoulder. “thank you for everything y/n. you’re the best gift i could have ever asked for”

his voice was honest. sincere. soft. you knew he meant it, and you could hear the raw emotion that his words contained. you brought you hand to his face to wipe away a stray tear.

“i can’t wait to experience so many new exciting things with you.”

he looked back up at you and smiled, picking up the box behind him and setting it on his dresser. there was the familiar look in his eyes again, and you were stupid not to notice it before. he pulls you into bed and wraps you in a hug.

“min? what are you-“

“shhh. please, just for a little while”

you smiled at his words, and held him back. you peppered kisses all over his face, listening to his soft whines. you could definitely get used to the feeling of minhos skin on your lips.

slowly, you heard his heavy breathing turn into light snores. you reached over him to turn off the lights, and held him for the rest of the night. you wanted him to sleep peacefully now. he deserved it.

you two would talk about what happened in the morning, but right now this moment was too special to waste.

#lee know #skz #skz x reader #lee know x reader #straykids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #skz slow burn #lee know scenarios #lee know skz #lee minho #lee know birthday #stray kids imagines #stray kids soft hours #lee know imagines

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thedeviltohisangel · 2 months

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All The Things I Did (3): Don't Leave Me Alone

chronology: chapter 1 chapter 2 interlude 1 chapter 3 interlude 2

a/n: well well well. here i am again. not as sad as interlude 2 i promise. i put them in chronologic order up top for all the new fans of this fic. focusing on gale and cass this chapter. i've appreciated all the screams in my ask box (i will explain anything about spook x bucky i've got going on in my head whenever you want, shoot me a dm) and will work on more interludes this weekend. keep the prompts coming! good a good mix of current & post war bucky x spook. love you guys and enjoy this longer one in celly of the finale.

Of all the places for them to bump into each other, no one should have been surprised it was in the base library. It was small and quiet and didn’t have the nicest lighting. But it had plenty of books on plenty of topics and very few people ever frequented it. Normally, it was her place to unwind and seek solace. Breathe in the scent of the worn bindings and get lost for a few hours. Cass wasn’t sure if John even knew it existed so it only made sense that this is where Gale would find her first.

Gale Cleven had been in communication with John Egan since their first day of basic training. Had watch him fly and crash on occasion. Watched him flirt and dance and take girls home. Only a few times had watched him give a piece of his heart and never once had he watched it go anywhere. When he had sent him the unicorn to pass along as an apology to a bar owner in Greenland, John had written one line at the end that made him more confused than the figurine had. A little note at the bottom: P.S. I think I’ve found my girl.

Gale hadn’t known then, wouldn’t know for awhile, that Bucky had only seen her across the airfield when he had written that. Hadn’t even spoken a word to her. Had taken one look at the way every man on that base stopped and parted for her. One look at the way she navigated herself around the airfield while never looking up from the paper in front of her. John Egan had been gone like a freight train.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant Cooper?” She was in an armchair in the back of the library, curled up as much as her uniform would allow, thumbing through a book on Prussian history with two others opened and balancing precariously on either side of her and a stack of yet-to-be-read books piled on the floor. “I don’t mean to intrude. I just thought I’d introduce myself. Gale Cleven, friends call me Buck.”

“My friends call me Cass.” She shook his hand as firmly as she could, her right arm in a sling. “You know, John has a whole thing planned for us to meet. He’ll be heartbroken.” Him and Cass had spent the night on a blanket in the flowers, just like she had wanted upon her return. He told her all about his best friend Buck and that introducing her to him was almost like her meeting his sisters or mother. Joked that she needed Buck’s approval before he could take her on another date.

“We can work on our story. Let him still have his moment.” Cass smiled and motioned for Gale to take the chair next to her. She placed a notecard between the pages to keep her place before giving him her full attention.

“I’m sorry your first impression of me was when I got off that plane yesterday. I promise I’m not always that dramatic.” Gale laughed. The swelling in her eye had gone down slightly and there was color back to her cheeks. Maybe a couple of new bruises on her neck but he assumed his friend was more likely the culprit of those than the secret police.

“I barely noticed over the commotion of Bucky.”

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she noted shyly. All of a sudden her fingernails were much easier to look at than Buck’s gaze.

“I’ve known Bucky, John, a long time. You’ve enraptured him, Lieutenant.” Gale hadn’t expected such a reaction either. Bucky had always been somewhat impulsive, sure, but always with a personal gain in mind. Win the bet. Win the girl. Win the game. But yesterday had been near primal. A base instinct to protect. To put himself in between her and those who would do her harm. It had come as natural as breathing.

“Your word choice is inspiring, Major Cleven.” Her eyes twinkled. She knew.

“Has he serenaded you yet? Then you’ll really be inspired.”

“I don’t know if that is what I would call it. I haven’t worked my way to that level of affection yet.” He thought back to the desperation in John’s voice when he called Cass’ name yesterday. Thought back to the venom that replaced it when someone got in the way of him reaching her.

“I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.” She ducked away from his gaze again.

“Don’t tell him I’m telling you this, but I’m pretty enraptured by him, too.” Gale reached over and squeezed her hand, locking the secret between them, and stood up to let her get back to her reading and to find the book he had come here looking for in the first place. “Cass? I’ve got a favor to ask. It’s kind of a big one.”

“Something wrong, Buck?”

“No. Just something that’s been on my mind since he left.” He mulled over the words for a moment. “He’s got a big heart. Does a good job at hiding it. I’ve been doing my best to protect it since the day I met him but if something happens to me up there…”

“You don’t even need to ask, Gale.” She would be his armor. Protect John Egan the way her soul had told her she should from the second she laid eyes on him. Had recognized the purity within him and felt the need to protect it. Cassandra Ann Cooper had been gone for John Egan the moment he stepped foot in England.

Gale nodded in appreciation. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” He walked to a shelf out of her sightline and Cass sighed deeply. She had faced down some scary people. But that interaction had her stomach in more knots than any of them. She had met, and talked to, and hadn’t made a fool of herself in front of, Major Gale Cleven. Cass smiled. John was going to be so happy when he found out.

----

The man in question was having a bit of a devious streak. Decided he was going to be early to pick up Cass instead of simply on time. Decided, after five minutes of waiting, that it had been too long since he last kissed her. Mary rolled her eyes when he came strolling in, thinking better of it when she opened her mouth to ask what he was up to.

“Mary, I swear if Major Egan is early, tell him I’m not ready.” He smiled as he heard Cass answer his knock.

“Too late, Spook. Let me in so I can see whatever potions you're brewing to look so goddamn beautiful.”

“Are you calling me a witch?” Her voice was closer this time. John pressed his palm to the door where he imagined hers was.

“I miss your face,” he provided simply.

“I have curlers in my hair.” Her mother had never let her father see her with her curlers in. Even after thirty or so years of marriage. Told Cass it took away the allure of femininity.

“Good. I’ve been imagining what you might look like in my bed in the morning-” He almost fell through the door when she opened it, her fist around his tie and all confidence choking off in his throat.

“No remarks like that in the hallway where anyone can hear you.” Cass sat back down at her vanity for the finishing touches of mascara and powder.

“Afraid they won’t find you so spooky anymore?” There weren’t too many artifacts of her life for him to look at. Photos of what she presumed were her parents and her siblings. A pile of letters with a return address in South Carolina. A jewelry box on top of her dresser.

“I don’t mind the nickname. I never had one growing up.” John stopped to admire her in the mirror as she pulled the curlers from her hair. He swallowed. It did look like he imagined she would be waking up next to him. How she would be after spending the night letting him worship her.

“Hey, wait on that for a second.” Cass put the tube of lipstick down and looked at him with a question across her brow. “Don’t want to mess it up when I kiss you.” She smiled and crooked her finger to beckon him forward, standing on her vanity chair as he got closer.

“So handsome,” she sighed as she took the opportunity of her newfound height to really take him in. She knows he would disagree but Cass found something ethereally beautiful about John Egan. The slope of his nose and the angles of his cheeks. The soft hair on his upper lip that she had found such joy in kissing.

“I’m glad you think so.” He started with just a quick peck, enjoying the look of annoyance on her face.

“That’s not worth holding up my lipstick application for.” John took that as a challenge. He felt guilty for only a second as he tangled his fingers into the curls at the back of her head and held her steady. John was trying to be mindful of the healing cut on her lip but she was pushing herself closer and closer and he had no choice but to give her more and more. It wasn’t slow. It was a spark spinning itself into a fire. An ember catching fire on all the things around it. He was a man starved for her oasis. She was a girl all too eager to tantalize him in the desert.

John slid his arms to wrap tightly around her waist, lifting her against his body and turning so her back was against the wall. Instinctually, she wrapped her legs around his waist and gasped into his mouth at the sensation. “Fuck, Cass.”

“John, we have to slow down.” She was enjoying his lips that had moved to her throat all much. Was so flushed with desire for him that beads of sweat were collecting in her collarbone. Cass unwrapped her legs from around his waist and John smiled with pride when her knees buckled ever so slightly.

“You’re right. Do this the right way. The slow way.” He straightened his tie and bent down when Cass reached up to fix his hair.

“Doesn’t have to be slow forever. Sir.” She knew exactly what she was doing when she said it. Relished in the way it made his eyes darken with lust again immediately. “We’re going to be late to dinner. And I already made a literally bloody first impression with Gale.”

“Come to think of it,” he noted as she expertly coated the red pigment around her lips, “it might’ve been more fun to try and kiss it off of you, Lieutenant.”

“There’s always later.”

He watched her hips sway to the Jeep, held her hand while he drove and smiled so wide it hurt when she slid across the bench and kissed his cheek. It all felt so normal. Felt like he was back home taking a girl to a movie and milkshakes on a Friday night. Felt like being with her was exactly where he was meant to be.

“Before you ask, no, we are not going back to the pub tonight.”

“Oh?” she asked as they drove right past. “Our memories from the other night incapable of being topped?”

“Just thought we would meet him somewhere nicer. This little bistro up the way a little bit.”

“John Egan, are you nervous?”

“Maybe.” She laughed but snuggled into his side.

“It’s very sweet that you love Gale so much.”

“Don’t tell him. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” Cass thought back to her conversation with Gale in the library. About the mushy heart right behind the very ribcage her cheek was resting against.

“You know, I’ve been told I’m good at keeping secrets.”

----

Gale watched from the window by the table as John’s Jeep pulled into view, smiling to himself as Cass held his friend’s and kissed him. Stayed close to whisper reassuring words and knock his nose against hers to seal the promise.

“Bucky you lucky son of a bitch,” he muttered. They held hands as they walked in and when she let go to shake Gale’s hand, firmer this time as the sling hadn’t gone with her dress, John had kept his hand on the small of her back. Looking back on it, Gale doesn’t think there was a moment the whole night they weren’t touching.

“Cass, this is the best man I’ve ever met, Major Gale Cleven. But I call him Buck.”

“Gave everyone else no choice but to call me Buck, too.” John pulled her chair out for her and pushed it in, sitting straight as a rod in his own until her arm locked around his comfortably. He visibly relaxed and kissed her forehead when she offered it.

The conversation flowed smoothly, John none the wiser the two of them had already met. Buck had her giggled over stories of a younger Bucky, taking her back to their days when they were first learning to fly. She asked about Marge and John noticed the way her chin dropped into her hand and she watched Gale with adoration as he spoke about the woman he had loved since he was a child. And would love until the day they died.

“She sounds absolutely lovely, Gale.” Cass reached across the table and squeezed his hand when his gaze turned melancholy for a moment.

“If you’re crazy enough to see it through with this one,” his chin jutted towards John, “I’m sure you and Marge will be thick as thieves.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad of a guy,” he spoke around bites of his dinner.

“John, you’ve got a little…” Cass motioned to the corner of her mouth to signal a bit of sauce was lingering on his. Without even really thinking about it, she used the corner of her own cloth napkin to dab away the offense.

“Better?”

“Perfect.” Gale could lose his stomach with the sweetness. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me to the powder room.” John stood as she left, watching her with a dazed smile on his face until Buck coughed.

“She’s something, Bucky. A real class act. Whip smart. Has you wrapped around her finger many times over.” John hummed around his sip of whiskey.

“I’ll keep wrapping myself around it as long as she’ll have me.”

“Yeah? I should tell you she’s too good for you.”

“You’d be right. I don’t deserve someone like her.” He swirled his glass pensively. “You know I love you and I love Marge and I love the little world you two build whenever you're together. I’ve always wanted that but kept getting in my own way. Chasing the immediate instead of being patient. Cass and I, it’s going fast because of this fucked world we live in. And I’m not getting in my own way because I’ve found a girl who won’t let me.”

“Watching you two, I think it’s real, John.”

“I think it is too,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “We’ve got to make it through this thing, Buck. I came here with nothing to lose but now I’ve got something I couldn’t stand to.” There was something desperate in his eyes. The same look Gale had seen yesterday when he was fighting the officer to reach Cass.

“Feels nice to have someone to live for, doesn’t it?” he teased.

“Nice, scary, like I’m being mauled by Meatball.” They both laughed in spite of the truth. “You think she’s smitten with me?” Gale rolled his eyes.

“I do.” Bucky nodded.

“Good.” Cause he thinks he might love her.

“Sorry for the prolonged departure.” She came back with a smile, John standing and kissing her gently. “Major, I just reapplied that.”

“Couldn’t help myself.” Didn’t want to.

He watched her and Gale banter back and forth the rest of the night with a smile on his face. Cass was the first girl he was introducing to his best friend, wished it was under better circumstances. Wished he had met her somewhere the threat of not making it to tomorrow didn’t exist. That he could court her properly and take her to the drive in and canoeing on the lake by his parents house and listen to a ballgame on the radio in the summer. Wished he had the courage to tell her and Buck that he was scared of losing them both. That he had been up there once and would back up a hundred times more if it meant they could live in a safer world.

And one day, after all three of them had done their part to end this war, John will mention this dinner at Buck’s wedding. And Buck will mention it when John asks him to be their child’s Godfather. But they didn’t know what they would have to go through to get there. That John’s fear of losing them both will come true. And that he would almost lose himself in the process of getting them back.

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #callum turner fanfiction #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfic #mota fanfic

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bokutos-biddys · 1 year

Note

hiii! i loved your distraction fic with xavier so i was just wondering if you could write a ajax x fem or gn reader fic please 🥲

ignore this is you don't want to lmao

-More Pressing Matters-

Ajax Petropolus X Reader

First I didn’t write distraction (wish I did) that was just a reblog. Ummmmmm I really didn’t know what to do for this one sooooooo yeah. It’s kinda bad becuase I really didn’t know what to write so this is just word vomit really

Make-out cause what would I wright without that and reader is Xaiver’s sibling. No gendered pronouns and reader isn’t referred to as anything other than ‘you’

———

“Um, phosphorus?” You answer, and it’s incredibly clear that you are not confident in what you’re saying.

“Nope.” Ajax says, flipping the note card in his hand for you to see. You’re both seated on your bed, facing each other while Ajax flips through note cards, quizzing you. “I’m never gonna get this.” You sigh, leaning your head back.

“Oh come on, you’ve got this. I’d expect you to be the one quizzing me.” He replies, flipping through the remaining note cards.

“There’s only a few left, we could watch a movie afterwards?” He questions, moving closer to you. “I’d love to.” You reply.

“Ok, what is the twenty-sixth element on the periodic table?” He asked, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“Um, Boron?” You answer, tilting your head a bit.

He sighs, dropping the notecards. “Ok, what’s going on? I know you know this. You’re acing chemistry, I’ve seen your test scores.” He says, staring at you with a confused face.

“I- ” crap, how are you going to get out of this one? You’ll admit you might have been lying not truthing about how much you were struggling in chemistry but… ok you don’t really have a good excuse.

You sigh in defeat, you might as well confess.

“I was hoping you might take the hint and ask me out. I’ve been pretending to be awful at this so you’d offer a coffee date or something.” You pout, crossing your arms.

“Is that what it is? Wait, that came out wrong. I mean yes I like you but I never thought you would like me back. Especially because of Xaiver-“

“My brother doesn’t control me, he can worry about it all he wants but in the end the decision is mine.” You cut him off, a stern tone in your voice. You move yourself closer to him before resting a hand on his chest.

“So if you like me, and I like you, does that mean this is a date? You’re my boyfriend? And all that comes with?” You ask, leaning into him.

“Um” he mutters, staring at your lips, then you, then your lips, then you, this goes on for a minute. Finally he lets out a long sigh. “Xaiver’s gonna kill me.” He says before pushing forward.

His lips are soft. You don’t know why you expected anything else but it’s the first thing you notice. Honestly everything about this is soft. He holds your face like you’re some delicate piece of artwork, something that could shatter with the smallest touch.

And the shutter of his breath he lets out when the both of you pull away is deafening. You, personally, don’t really like the distance between the two of you so you start to lean back in before Ajax stops you.

“Don’t. You kiss me again I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” He whispers, pupils dilated more than you've ever seen them.

“And if I don’t want you to stop?” You ask, making it so there was barely a centimeter of space between the two of you.

He answers by pressing his lips to yours again. He’s not holding back you realize, it's all very enticing. He’s pushing forward, faster than you can lean back. Leading to you underneath him while he has a hand by your head and one resting on your waist. He’s able to pull all these quiet moans from your mouth all while simultaneously keeping you breathless.

“What the fuck is going on?” A shout makes you jerk apart from one another. Ugh, you hadn’t even noticed the door opening.

Despite the fact you have very firmly told Xaiver to knock he still clearly believes that he may barge in without warning whenever he likes. And despite the fact you have your clear annoyance written in your face Xaiver still thinks it appropriate to glare at the both of you. If looks could kill you believe Ajax would be far further than six feet under.

“Well, while you were busy moaning over your terrible love life, I was busy getting some. So if you don’t mind, I would like to get back to it.” You respond, getting up to push him out.

“Now wait, I believe I told you both to stay away from each other. How could you? Behind my back!” He pointed an accusing finger at Ajax. Who, in truth, looked ready for the ground to swallow him whole.

“And I told you that you don’t control me. So go back to painting or whatever and let me have this.” You said, finally pushing him out the door with a final shove.

He shouts from beyond the door but the both of you ignore it.

“I really don’t think he’s just going to drop the subject.” Ajax says, biting his lip.

“I don’t think a relationship between us is the end of the world. So if that's what he wants to worry about I’m not going to care much.” You reply, walking over to him before straddling his lap.

“There are more pressing matters.” You whisper with lidded eyes, your hands roaming up his shoulders.

“Yep, definitely, I agree.” He says quickly before meeting your lips once again.

#Ajax Petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus #wednesday #fanfiction #Ajax Petropolus x gender neutral! reader

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

Note

fic where yoongi says exactly what he means all the time (ie - i have a massive crush on you) and reader thinks “no one is that direct” and doesn’t believe anything he says because i love miscommunication in fics but YOONGI SURE AS SHIT DOESNT

you know why

hello my beloved birthday-having friend <3 hope you enjoy.

fun fact: this is the yoongi bee dressed up as the night she got drunk as fuck and spent an hour doing a powerpoint presentation on bts kinks. don't we love that for her :)

direct

pairing: yoongi x gn!reader genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers; fluff warnings: yoongi is an implied fuckboy, brief mention of blood, very direct communication, cigarettes, swearing, a kiss. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 700

You meet Min Yoongi in your chemistry lab.

You meet Min Yoongi when he’s half asleep and wearing a permanent scowl. Looks like he’s just rolled out of bed, and you sneak a glance at his shoes to confirm. Yeah, two different ones, just as you’d suspected. You’ve met this brand of academically-declined fuckboy before and it’s never ended well for you, so you breathe out a sigh of relief when he ducks into a row towards the back.

Then your instructor tells you to pair off, that whoever you choose is who you’ll be stuck with for the rest of the semester, and no one else must want to work with Min Yoongi, either, because he’s the only person left. He blinks half-lidded eyes at you—slowly, like a cat—and says, “Fine by me. You’re who I wanted to partner with, anyway.”

And you scoff. Min Yoongi didn’t even bother to buy the textbook, and you’re at your seat with an arrangement of notecards and highlighters and a stack of notes you’d taken over the weekend just because you were bored and wanted to get a head start. “Yeah, I’m sure I was.”

You’re dumb enough to refer to Min Yoongi as a friend five months later.

It’s a Friday night. Your roommate is god-knows-where, probably getting railed within an inch of their life at some party. Good for them. At least someone around here is taking advantage of their college years instead of wasting away on a threadbare thrift shop couch, a magical girl anime playing on your laptop; the one you watch only when you’re alone, because it’s too embarrassing otherwise.

Then there’s a knock at the door.

Min Yoongi is on the other side with a black eye and a busted lip. Refuses to meet your eye. Says, “I didn’t know where else to go,” even though he’s got a posse that’d put small armies to shame.

You roll your eyes. “You don’t need to bullshit me to get my attention.”

He smiles at that. “Why do you always think I’m bullshitting you?”

“Because you’re a sewer king, Min Yoongi.” Then you sigh, because couldn’t Yoongi have pulled this stunt when you were showered and wearing clean clothes? “Fine, get in here. But I’m not doing this shit again.”

Yoongi always smells like smoke and petrichor and trouble, and it’s the same when he breezes past you this time, too. “Thanks, doll. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

This fucking guy, you think. “Yeah,” you intone, “what are friends for, huh?”

You become absolutely certain that Min Yoongi is full of shit two years later.

“You’re full of shit,” you tell him, watching as he flicks the ashes of his cigarette onto the hood of his beat-to-hell car.

“Don’t you think this is getting a little old?”

“Don’t you think you’re too old to act like this?”

“Who’s acting?” Sticks the cigarette between his lips and takes a drag. Blows the smoke out, waves it away from you.

“You are,” you insist. “No one on earth is this honest. Especially not you. Especially not about something like this.”

Yoongi groans. Tosses the butt onto the pavement and stomps on it. “You want me to prove it?”

You curse the way your heartbeat hastens. How embarrassing that you’re falling for this. That all Yoongi has to do is sell you some kinda line about being in love with you for all your good sense to crumble at your feet. “You’re not in love with me,” you argue. More like you insist.

“Says who?” he fires back, inching closer. Smells like smoke again—nicotine and a desperate kind of hope and bad ideas that might not be all that bad. “Says you, who doesn’t believe a fucking thing I say?”

“That’s not—”

He stands between your spread things. Places two fingers beneath your chin and forces you to look at him. “I’ve never lied to you, doll. Not once.”

“Bullshit,” you answer, your voice diminished to a pathetic hush, but there’s no heat in it. “Fine. Prove it, then.”

You become absolutely certain that you don’t know a goddamn thing when Min Yoongi presses his lips to yours.

#beeday drabbles #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts drabble #jewel answers #jewel writes

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wildlife4life · 4 months

Text

Fuck-It Friday

Tagged by the super duper amazing @jesuisici33 @devirnis (dropped a super cute fic) @hippolotamus @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @aroeddiediaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @tizniz @daffi-990 and @diazsdimples (who dropped a whole ass fic, check it out!) Thank you all so much and I'm very intrigued and excited for all your fics!

More NFL Buck, what else? Here is a bit from when Buck and Eddie first met, featuring Tommy Vega, a buddie shipper. (All things NFL Buck can be found here)

Later, when Eddie was pulling a pen out of his front left breast pocket to sign for his allocated meal from the stadium, a folded neon orange notecard fell out. Tommy noticed it first and snatched the card up before Eddie could even register what had happen. “Thought you said nothing happened Diaz?” She unfolded the bright paper, “So you got that boys digits? And address?” “He-I- “, Buck was a sneaky son of a bitch and apparently had some very nimble fingers. Eddie blew out an exasperated breath, “He asked me to meet him after the game. Early dinner I guess, but I didn’t agree to anything, and he must have slipped that in my pocket when- “ “When he was feeling you up?” The paramedic captain snorted out a small laugh, then sobered, “You should go.” Eddie shook his head, “No, I can’t. I need to relieve the sitter, and Buckley is just your typical leather head. Probably wants to experiment or something and I’m not- “, He stopped there because ever since Evan graced Eddie with his sunshine bright smile, he’s been questioning a major (very repressed) part of himself. Within the two weeks that have passed, Eddie has managed to barley admit to himself in the quiet recesses of his mind, that he might not be straight. Meeting up with the very person that tilted his entire world in less than hour, meant confronting that internal struggle head on. Tommy entire demeanor mollified, and a look of sympathetic understanding softened her features, “I’ve been working these games for a long while Eddie. Been around a lot of players, including Evan Buckley. From what I’ve heard, he got around when he first got here, girls only though. Almost got kicked off the team and lost his scholarship, was given a second chance and he almost blew that too.” “He’s still here, so what changed?” Eddie asked.

What indeed changed? That will not be revealed until the fic is published. I love marrying cannon events with this au, like with Buck's history. Repressed Eddie is fun to make squirm too lol. Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @rainbow-nerdss @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @disasterbuckdiaz @bekkachaos @eddiescowboy @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @transboybuckley

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dc418writes · 4 months

Text

✨Pairing✨: NFL!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Your brother has the worst timing

🚨: allusions to past happy adult fun times, mention of nudity (brief), mention of parent death, pretty much all floofy hilarity

🎤: an early Valentine’s Day-esque fic based off an idea I recently had. Hope you guys like it☺️!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

“What are you doing here?,” you ask locking the door after your brother casually saunters in. Unannounced and uninvited you might add

“Wanted to treat you for Valentine’s Day,” he answers. A slight tilt to his brow - looking every bit like your father - from your unusual greeting. “Sup with you? Why’re you acting weird?”

“N-Nothing I just wasn’t expecting you. Plus you typically call first and let me know you’re in town.” Which would’ve been very useful right about now.

“I wanted to surprise you. Plus I knew you wouldn’t be doing anything.” Rude.

Arms outstretched, he flops back on your light pink sectional making himself comfortable as if it were his own home. His wide smile instantly twisting into a smirk noticing the bouquet of mixed flowers along with a yellow duckling plushy leaning against the clear vase. Luckily you're able to grab the notecard before he can prompting that eyebrow tilt again

"Who're those from?"

You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders, "A friend.”

"This friend got a name?"

"Marshall I don't come in your place being nosey," you sigh feeling yourself becoming increasingly annoyed. "And you haven't been doing anything for Valentine's Day, so why now?"

The mood between you visibly shifts from the drop of his playful smile to something more serious. Regretful even.

"...Since dad passed, I uh..realized how we really don't know when our last day is you know?," he explains slowly rubbing his hands together. His eyes focused on them as a way to help clearly put his plaguing thoughts into words. "I just don't want something to happen to you or ma and I have all these regrets about what I didn't say. How I could've done more."

When his gentle eyes - doe like and dark brown - finally look up to meet yours, an instant warmth mixed with sorrow fills your chest and strikes deep in your heart. At the reminder of your father’s sudden passing and hearing your twin be so vulnerable.

Since college, it was pretty much football 24/7 with Marshall. Training to be the best and improving in any and every area so he could eventually make it big. Now in the NFL, there wasn't much change. If anything it got a bit worse now having to keep up with public appearances and meet with press here and there. Needless to say, you figured you and your parents rarely crossed his mind besides for the occasional, and rare, check-ins

To hear his worries, it sends a pang of guilt from the pit of your gut and throughout your abdomen

“Marshall,” you quietly speak taking a step towards him before a thud startles you both.

"The hell was that?,” he asks.

"Probably the neighbors kids,” you answer with a wave of your hand as if it were nothing. “They play around a lot."

Another thud followed by an “ow”, has your brother standing to his feet ready to investigate. "That sounded like it was in here though."

"Well you know they make these walls thin. Plus it doesn’t help their room is right next to mine," you nervously giggle. Actually it was the bathroom sharing a wall with you, but he didn't need to know that. “I’m gonna go ahead and get changed. Meet you in the car?”

“Uh..yea sure.” You know he’s still suspicious from his hesitation. Taking one last look towards your bedroom - where he could swear the noise directly came from - then at you flashing your most innocent smile, he strides from your living room and to your door. “Aye try not to take so long. I wanna get there before I’m 60.”

Rolling your eyes, you just nudge his chest - well try to at least - urging him past the threshold and choosing to ignore his little jab as he chuckles on the other side.

“What’d he want?”

Turning your head, you’re equal parts annoyed and flustered seeing Ari - your boyfriend not boyfriend? - standing in the doorway of your bedroom naked as the day he arrived on Earth. His sun kissed skin, smooth and toned, with dark hair sprinkled along his strong and defined pecs, arms, and legs. Being a linebacker for the NFL, you wouldn’t expect anything less than the gladiator physique

“He wants to take me out for Valentine’s Day. And what was that? You promised you’d stay quiet.”

“I’m sorry somebody threw my shirt behind the bed,” he retorts rubbing the back of his head with a wince checking to make sure no blood was left on his fingers

“Get mad at yourself then. That was your doing when you took it off me in the middle of the night.”

A smirk forms on his pretty lips remembering that exact moment. You lying peacefully on your side throughly exhausted from your earlier rounds. Lips pouted as your even breaths fanned across his arm under your head.

With your backside positioned right in front of his crotch, he just couldn’t help letting his large hands wander and mouth attack your neck and shoulder. Feeling you push back on him amid your tired groan, he silently chuckled before his shirt on you was gone and moans were filling the room again.

“Oh yea,” he chuckles biting his lip. “Definitely should do that again when we get back.”

“Ari I’m going with Marshall,” you say gently brushing past him for your closet to find something to wear.

“I was here first though.” Even with your back to him you can clearly see his toddler like pout. How his thick arms are more than likely now crossed on his chest. And you can’t lie, the adorable reaction makes you want to stay to make him happy again.

When did you turn so soft for him?

“But he’s my brother,” you call over your shoulder as you scan through your dresses. “I’m not gonna say no if he wants to spend time with me.” Ari knew he couldn’t get too upset at that, but that didn’t stop the small ache at his ruined plans.

“Plus I uh thought dinner last night was it?”

“That was the main plan, but I dunno..was open to see where it went,” he mumbles towards the end with a shrug. At his slightly defeated tone, you turn around unfamiliar with this side of him. Since your first meeting, he maintained that confident and uncaring attitude he carried on the field

Some might even call it arrogance how he paraded around with chest puffed and that signature tilted smile

Stepping towards him - a dress in each hand - you give him a sympathetic smile wanting to hold him but restraining yourself

“Maybe we can do something tomorrow? Or later this week,” you suggest.

His tongue clicks against his cheek. “I’m busy this week. Maybe you could come to my game for once..?”

Ari’s playful, blue eyes and finger tapping under your chin makes you softly giggle. “You know I can’t.”

“No one would know who you’re there for. Just a fan lucky enough to get in a suite.”

“Or someone wonders why Marshall’s sister is there,” you counter. He simply tilts his head back and forth. There goes that hint of disappointment again. “One day though.”

A fraction of that brilliant smile returns on his lips making you feel somewhat better. “One day,” he begrudgingly agrees before his gaze drifts to the dresses in your hands. He goes back and forth for a moment before pointing to the shortsleeved, burgundy knee length dress in your left hand

“This one. And take your black sweater. The long one you usually wear because you know you’re gonna get cold.”

Your stomach flutters as a shy, “thank you” leaves your lips and his soon press against yours. Softly at first, but then moving together how they were last night - and many times before then. So passionate and needy until you’re both left breathless yet still craving more

“Get dressed. He’ll be calling soon,” Ari says leaving one final peck on the corner of your tingly mouth. “I can use the spare to lock up.”

Then that guilty feeling returns. The same one that you’ve tried ignoring the past few times you’ve hung out with him, but just couldn’t shake immediately thinking of your brother. How you’re slowly yet surely falling for his rival

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson au #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson x reader #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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literaturewithliz · 1 year

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Could I request a cute fluffy one shot for Draco malfoy accidentally falling for a muggle born hufflepuff, she likes baking and makes everyone birthday cakes if they want and he doesn’t get the hype about her and never met her but let’s say his friends asked her to make one for hi birthday and he’s just so confused and flustered

Thanks so much for the request! I love this concept so much, as a baker myself. I’m very sorry it took a hot minute, I just had no idea how I was gonna structure the fic, but then I just went with a couple of options and like how this turned out!

Draco was puzzled, to say the least.

He wasn’t puzzled by the fact that the box just outside of his dorm door had your signature on it, because cakes were kind of your claim to fame around Hogwarts. And the reason why was very clear. The immaculate silver piping along the edges of the cake could only have been done by your skilled hands. The Slytherin green icing on the base and top of the cake could have only been perfectly recreated thanks to your observant eye. And the fondant black, silver, and green Slytherin crest on the top was so obviously crafted with such care, that only you could have been the one to design it. Not to mention the artfully placed pieces of gold leaf and careful strokes of silver luster dust that seemed to make the cake shimmer.

It was perfection. So no, he was not puzzled that you had designed this cake. He was, however, puzzled by the fact that you had created this cake for him. The only time Draco could remember speaking to you before was in fourth year, after Potter had been selected for the Triwizard Tournament and Draco was so angry that he lashed out at the first person he saw after the feast. Who just so happened to be you. He had called your craft useless and uninspired. He could see the tears in your eyes after he had finished his rant, but all you had done was ask if he was alright. He spat an “I would be much more well if I never had to associate with the likes of you ever again!” and stormed off to his dorm. And you took that literally. Draco never did have to associate with you ever again, because you avoided him at all cost. He was in his sixth year now, and hadn’t heard your voice since his little rant.

So why was he receiving a cake from you? And how did you know it was his birthday?

Eventually Draco realized he must have looked like a complete idiot, just standing there looking at a cake as if it were on NASA’s Top Ten Unexplained Mysteries list. So he picked up the cake cautiously, and gently tore off the little notecard that was taped to the top of the cake box, the one that had your aforementioned signature in pretty loopy handwriting. He looked on the back of the card and found a message in the same handwriting: Happy Birthday, Draco! I don’t know much about you other than your in Slytherin, so I hope this is okay. Enjoy your special day! Best wishes, Y/N.

Draco thought this was more than alright. He loved the cake design, and if rumors were anything to go by, he would also love the taste. He was just still questioning why you had done this for him. The reason why was revealed when Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle waltzed into his room-uninvited- and stood in front of him, expectant looks on their faces. So this was why you had done this for Draco. Because his friends had paid you to. It was all making sense now. He could feel his ears redden a bit, mentally face-palming himself. What had he expected? For you to actually mean what you wrote about having a happy birthday or enjoying the cake?

Pansy cleared her throat, grabbing Draco’s attention. “Do you like it? We had that Hufflepuff girl make it. The one who’s known for her cakes? We didn’t really know what to tell her to put on it, so we just told her to put whatever she thought was best.” The truth was, Draco liked this cake more than he wanted to. He liked knowing that you had put work into something made for him, even if his friends were technically the ones who asked for it. But he didn’t want his friends to know that, so he just went with a normal amount of gratitude (normal for Draco anyways) and told his friends, “Yeah, thank you all,” and set the cake on his nightstand, where it would remain for the rest of the day.

Speaking of the rest of the day, it passed by in a blur. People exchanged respectful greetings and well wishes to him in the corridors, he went about his normal classes for the day, and went to the owlery to see if his parents had sent him anything. His mother had sent him a ring to add to his collection, and a couple of sweet treats, but he heard nothing from his father. Once again, what had he expected? It wasn’t as though Draco and his father had the warmest of relationships. He didn’t know if the lack of warmth was what made him sad, or the disappointment he got when the cycle never broke. All he knew was, he felt like he was about to cry in the owlery of all places.

“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked from behind him. Draco flinched, startled and embarrassed that another person was seeing him this way. He regained his composure quickly, and replied with, “I’m perfectly fine.” He heard you shift from one foot to another, and turned around to see you standing there, with a small bag of owl feed in you hands. You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes trained on something to the right of him. He followed your gaze to a medium sized barn owl with a name plate reading ‘Holly’. He walked left, giving you space to walk over to it. You nodded appreciatively, still not looking at him, and went towards the barn owl.

Draco felt awkward, just standing with you in silence, and he could tell you were uncomfortable too. He also felt confused. He didn’t know you had an owl, and why he hadn’t seen you here before, especially given your owls were right next to each other. As if you could sense his confusion, you finally looked at him just for a second, and told him, “It’s not mine, I’m just doing a favor for a friend.” “Oh,” Draco replied articulately. What was he still doing here? He moved towards the door of the owlery to leave, but your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Did you like your cake?” you asked, slightly timid. Draco felt guilty, which was unusual for him. He knew that the reason you were so uncomfortable right now was because of what he had said to you two years ago. But Draco hadn’t ever felt bad about the way he spoke to people, especially not Hufflepuffs. So why did he feel like a terrible person? “Yes, it was fine,” he replied. “I’m glad it was fine. I had been hoping it wasn’t too useless.” Draco sighed, feeling defeated. “Look, when I said those things to you, I wasn’t mad at you. I was frustrated, is all, and took it out on you. So I’m… sorry.” It seemed like you could sense how difficult it had been for Draco to apologize like that, so you simply said, “Thank you, I forgive you.”

Draco nodded, moving to leave again, when your voice piped up, stopping him once again. “Are you really okay? You look like you have a lot on your mind.” “Like I said, I’m perfectly fine, and even if I weren’t, it wouldn’t be your concern,” he replied with a low voice. “Right, sorry. But you should know, it doesn’t help to just dwell on things, you need someone or something that brings you out of your head sometimes,” you shifted again, letting your right hand lift up to pet Holly. Draco thought on that for a moment, then before he could stop himself, he asked, “Is that why you bake?”

Oh no. Your gonna think he’s a creep now. Your never going to speak to him again. You- “Yes, I suppose so,” you replied, bringing Draco out of his downward mental spiral. Then Draco just stared. He wanted to ask what was causing you so much stress, since it must have been a lot, considering you seem to bake nonstop. But he restrained himself, thinking maybe that would be going too far. But he did say thank you. Then he turned to leave again, and you didn’t stop him.

******

Thank you so much for this request! I had a lot of fun with this! I didn’t know if you wanted this to end with a kiss or something, but I didn’t really know how to end this like that, because Draco seems like the type to need time before even thinking of a relationship, let alone kissing and affection. That’s just my interpretation of him though. Once again, I’m sorry it took a while.

#draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco angst #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #Harry Potter fanfiction

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magiccath · 5 months

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Can i have a 10th doctor fic in where the reader is a nursing student and she has to i guess practice on him? Love your works so much 🥰🥰

When you ask him for help studying he literally laughs out loud

“I’m not an actual doctor. You know that, right?”

Once you explain you just need practice he’s game, you can poke and prod at him all you want

Issue is… Time Lord bodies are different from human ones

“You- you have two hearts…?”

“Do I now?” He teases. He likes getting a rise out of you

When you go to take his pulse you have a lot of trouble. Humans have a singular heart that beats solidarily. Time Lords have two hearts thundering around completely unharmoniously

“Doctor… your heart rate is 250 bpm. You should be in cardiac arrest right now”

“That’s actually slow!” He explains. Time Lords have different heart rate standards than humans do.

The rest of his body is mostly human, making your examination fairly easy.

“I don’t understand how you run so much, your joints are practically audibly creaking,” you tease, poking fun at his age

In the end, it isn’t much help for your human medical knowledge

The Doctor is actually severely concerning by human health standards

Like, send this alien to the ER right now

But it’s an opportunity for you to learn more about Time Lords and their anatomy

You still pass your exams

The Doctor helps you make notecards and study

#10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #tenth doctor headcanons #10th doctor headcanons #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #david tennant #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #headcanons #headcanon #hcs #request

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fayes-fics · 2 years

Text

Lesson Learned

Lessons Series Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x female reader, Benedict Bridgerton x female reader.

Summary: Sequel to The Lesson. Probably best to read that first. Anthony catches you and Benedict without him and teaches you both a lesson.

Warnings: So many. 18+, minors dni, smut, threesome (FMM), d/s relationships, discipline (caning), spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, fingering, handjob, edging/overstimulation, oral sex (f to m), deepthroat orgasm, vaginal sex. No incest. Please note this is not a marriage relationship.

W/c: 6.0K (wtf I’m so sorry)

A/n: Please read the warnings, like the first story, this one is spicy by request. This fic is a sequel request fill for @iboopedyournose and is dedicated to her. I hope I have fulfilled what you wanted for the follow up and that you enjoy. There are a couple of intentional POV changes during this story once to Anthony, once to Benedict denoted by “***”. Thanks to @makaylan for a quick beta.

The day after your first encounter - well, threesome - with one Benedict Bridgerton, you find a notecard in the pocket of your robe. A hand-written note in beautiful looped writing. Thou art too dear for my possessing. Above there’s an address printed. You store the card carefully in the pages of your favourite book.

Changing the route of your daily walk to pass the address doesn’t necessarily signify anything. That, five days later, you forget to plan for the unpredictability of London weather doesn’t indicate any premeditation. That you now stand on the doorstep of said address, looking akin to a drowned rat, well, again, not your plan or fault. These things happen.

It’s the choices you make after the door opens that are of consequence.

“You’ll need to change, or you’ll catch a chill,” he says after ushering you in and ordering some tea.

“Change into what exactly?” You ask pointedly, assuming a bachelor's lodgings are woefully under-equipped with dresses.

“You’ll have to borrow some of my clothes” he shrugs as if it’s the most obvious solution. “Just until yours are dry," he adds. His assumption you will stay for that long isn’t something you wish to dwell on.

He disappears for a few moments before returning, handing you a towel, some trousers and a white shirt, and shows you to a bathroom. Your dress is soaked, and your undergarments too. Great. You will be spending time in the company of a man who has done unspeakable things to you (within minutes of your first meeting) without underwear. That doesn’t seem like a recipe for disaster at all.

You pull on the clothes he gave you and laugh at your reflection. You look like an actual clown. At least being too alluring won’t be a problem.

Luckily your hat stopped your hair from getting too wet, so you just towel it dry and leave it loose. What’s the point in attempting proper appearance when he has already pulled you around by the same hair, his fingers inside you?

Making your way back to his drawing-room, you see Benedict painting on his easel in the bay window. You pad in quietly and take a seat, seeking solace in the warm tea waiting for you.

Surprisingly it’s not a tense atmosphere. You are relaxed, oddly at ease. After about five minutes, you have finished your tea and wish you had a book to read.

“There’s a small library next door if you wish," he mentions without looking away from his task.

Hmm, a coincidence of timing; surely he can't read your mind. Lots of people like to read.

You wander into the library. After perusing some spines, you decide to use the ladder and look at the books up high. The trouble is, the clown trousers represent a trip hazard. You shrug to yourself and pull down the braces, and they fall to the floor. You’re sure no one will come in and see you, so what’s the harm? You’ll only be out of them for a few moments.

You climb the ladder about two feet up and reach for a book that catches your interest. Not thinking about how far up the shirt may have risen.

“If you need a recommendation…” he stops mid-sentence with a growl.

You curse under your breath and hug into the ladder, just trying to ride out your mortification. You didn’t think Benedict would follow you in here.

It’s far too quiet now. Somehow you don’t think to move; provide some sense of modesty; you’re frozen in place.

“What is your colour?” he grinds out.

You look confused for a moment. What is he talking about?

“Answer me, girl.”

Oh.

Oh, holy fuck.

There’s a flood between your legs. Unbidden.

“Green," you stutter and hold your breath, staring at the bookcase in front of you.

You should have said red, red, RED; your mind is screaming.

You hear long strides across the room then two large warm hands seize your bare ass cheeks.

“You are all I have thought about for days," he groans, burying his face into your lower back, “Now I find you in just my shirt, no underwear. Dear girl, are you trying to kill me?”

He slides one hand between your cheeks, ploughing heavily into your slit. His breath stutters as he finds just how wet you are already.

“I need you now, here," he pleads, his middle finger circling your clit.

“Oh god, yes," you hiss.

He bodily pulls you off the ladder. Pushing your face-first against the bookcase, he crowds himself into your back. He wraps his hand around your throat and kisses your cheekbone. The other hand trails up your skin from under the hem of his shirt you wear, tracing your curves, around your hip, up your stomach to your breast that he cups and squeezes.

“Please kiss me, sir," you plead; he groans on the last word.

He spins you around and gives you a devastating crooked smile before his lips descend to yours. His kiss is masterful and everything you hoped it would be since Anthony denied you. You moan into his mouth as his tongue teases yours, and with a snarl, he deepens the kiss and grasps your hips, pushing you up higher into the bookcase. A warm thigh is slotting between your bare legs to take your weight, the wool of his trousers catching against your clit. Your hands slide into his hair. Oh fuck, you could get lost in this.

His fingers start to unbutton the shirt you wear - his shirt - but he stops halfway.

“I want to fuck you while you wear this, my shirt,” he hisses possessively, one hand slipping inside to pinch your nipple as his mouth slides down your neck. You can feel his cock pressed into your stomach; this time, you crave to see it, touch it, and taste it. There’s no Anthony to stop you.

***

Unbeknownst to you, Anthony has a key to every Bridgerton property, the privilege of being head of the family. He is known to drop by unannounced to check on family occasionally. It just so happens today he decided to visit Benedict to discuss his country cottage.

Anthony shakes the rain from his hair and enters the drawing-room but, finding no one, continues to the next room. He freezes in the doorway.

There he sees Benedict with a woman’s hands in his hair; her bare legs wrapped loosely around his knees, she’s pressed against the library bookcase as they kiss hard and heavy.

Good for you, brother, he thinks.

Until he hears your voice.

“Oh, sir.”

And every nerve in Anthony’s body is alight at once.

You have never discussed terms of exclusivity, but Anthony just assumed you were all his. Every night, he comes to you; he still has your smell on his skin from this morning.

But here you are with his very own brother. Doing the one thing, he forbade you from doing - kissing. The incandescent rage broils heavy in his chest, and he goes to speak, but something stops him.

The anger is joined by a more unfamiliar urge, a salty tang of desire. Dear god, but he wants to watch you. Watch you be pleasured, be fucked. Watch your face as you get eaten out; your toes and fingers curl as you are pounded by a cock. Maybe not today, but someday. And he supposes if there is one person he would trust to do so, it’s his brother. So fighting his possessive instincts, he stays silent. Biting his tongue. Watching.

He watches as your hands card through Benedict’s hair.

He watches as his younger brother rhythmically grinds his thigh between your legs, making you gasp.

He watches as Benedict hauls you off the bookcase and slips to the rug on the floor, you underneath him. You writhing in pleasure, little pants of breath between fevered kisses.

He watches his brother slide his lips down your neck, your breastbone, moving the shirt you wear to wrap his lips fiercely around your nipple.

But your cry of pleasure pierces Anthony’s resolve.

This cannot go unpunished; the desire to bring punishment itches. He also wants Benedict to suffer for taking what is his without asking permission. Anthony may have granted it with knowledge, but this? This is unacceptable.

***

Suddenly you sense something in the room, and your eyes fly open. In the doorway stands Anthony, his hands balled into fists at his side. His eyes flash a maelstrom of emotions as they lock with yours.

“My lord," you freeze, your voice edged with panic.

“It’s sir," Benedict admonishes, biting on the bud of your nipple.

“No," you gasp, wrenching him from your body with a rough tug on his head, “your brother”.

He tracks your line of sight, turns his head, and sputters as he sees his brother.

“Why stop on my account” Anthony seethes “it appears both of you want to break all the rules.”

“Brother I….” Benedict begins, pulling off you and rolling to sit next to you on the floor.

“Save it” Anthony raises a hand.

You scramble to make yourself decent, but you’re only wearing Benedict’s thin white shirt, and you sense Anthony’s gaze between your legs, noting your lack of underwear. You sit up and try to cover yourself up.

“Is that his shirt?” Anthony sputters in disbelief.

“Yes. I’m so sorry I got caught in the rainstorm and Sir-… Bened-… Mr Bridgerton…” you cringe as you correct yourself, “he kindly lent me some clothes while mine dry” your words are rushed and stumbling. Your cheeks are burning.

There is no way around this. You’ve both been caught red-handed.

“Do you know how many lines you have both crossed?” Anthony barks.

“I’m so sorry, my lord” you hang your head, truly ashamed. “Please forgive me," you whisper.

Benedict is silent next to you. He also won’t look up; he’s just as complicit. Your hand itches to take his; take mutual comfort in your collective shame.

“My girl, there is only one way I will ever forgive you. And that is to punish you so hard you never forget who you truly belong to,” Anthony grinds out, flexing his hands.

Oh. Your body burns bright with a potent mix of hope, desire and trepidation.

It makes you strip off Benedict’s shirt and scramble closer to Anthony. Kneeling up on your haunches completely naked, adopting a submissive pose. Head bowed towards him.

“Please, my lord, please punish me," you implore, utterly enthralled by him.

Anthony growls and strides over to you, grabbing your hair close to your scalp and tilting your head up to look at him.

“Oh, my darling girl," you can see the war on his face. You bury your face into him, rubbing your nose over his cock through his trousers, desperate for his forgiveness and power. His hand rounds the back of your head and holds you there. You feel his heat and hardness increasing against your face, making your clit burn.

“As for you," you assume he is talking to Benedict. “You will not go unpunished either.” You don’t know what he could mean, but you almost don’t care as long as he absolves you both.

“You are both going to do exactly what I say,” he intones authoritatively, “then maybe you will be forgiven.”

You nuzzle happily against him, opening your mouth and dragging your lips against the outline of his now rigid cock. He gruffs and pulls your head back.

“It’s not my cock you’ll be sucking, my girl," he warns.

You and Benedict both inhale sharply at that.

“Brother, go get your mahl stick," Anthony instructs him. Benedict looks confused but gets up and leaves the room to fetch whatever Anthony asked him for. While he’s gone for a few moments, Anthony reaches down and tweaks your nipple. “I’m not going to go easy on you today," he warns, “you will feel some ache for this.”

Benedict returns and hands Anthony something. It’s a long wooden cane with a round leather pad on the end. You instantly know what he plans to use it for, and you start breathing unevenly.

“Colour?” Anthony demands as he taps the cane against his leg.

“Green, so green,” you exhale.

“On all fours, my girl," Anthony orders, pushing you down, “face away from me.”

You slowly turn around and adopt the position he wants. He’s never punished you with anything except his hand before. Your stomach roils with butterflies and a hot, oily fear.

“Brother, take off your clothes.” You know this is a power play; he wants both of you naked and under his control.

You crane your head slightly to watch as Benedict strips almost perfunctorily. Oh gosh, he is beautiful, you think, as more of his flesh is revealed. His chest isn’t hairy like Anthony's, but he is toned and lithe. Then he drops his trousers, and you stop breathing for a second. He has a gorgeous cock; it must run in the family.

“Sit down on the floor," Anthony commands, “right in front of my girl. Legs between hers.”

Benedict does as bidden, and your faces come into alignment a few inches apart.

“I’m sorry," he mumbles guiltily, “I should have resisted earlier.”

You are touched that he blames himself for this. You could’ve said red, knowing he would have respected your every wish. But you didn’t because you wanted him as much as he did you.

“No," you whisper in return, “we both couldn’t help it.” His blue eyes look almost soulful, and you want to kiss him again.

“Go ahead," Anthony prompts from behind you, “kiss him.”

Your brow furrows in confusion, but you don’t question the change of heart from last time. You lean forward, and Benedict does the same. Your lips touch, and he sighs; you instantly melt into each other. Just as his tongue teases your lips apart, there is a crack of noise in the air and a searing pain across your butt cheek.

You scream into Benedict’s mouth at the sensation. It’s not just the leather pad; Anthony is aiming the cane to glance over you as well.

Benedict pulls back, taking your face gently in his hands, “it’s okay, sweet girl, I’m here; just scream into me; I know you can take it.” His praise has you whimper against his lips.

“Did I say to stop kissing?” Anthony bites out.

Your lips meet again, and you hear the whistle of the movement a split second before the pain blooms across your skin. Benedict kisses it away from the best he can.

“Take hold of his cock, my girl," Anthony orders, lightly bouncing the cane across your cheeks.

You wrap a hand around Benedict, and his groan is guttural. He is so hot and hard, and he’s already leaking enough to lubricate, so you start to move your hand slowly, even without Anthony’s command; Benedict hisses right next to your ear. The next strike causes your fist to tighten, and Benedict cries out at the pressure you exert.

“That’s right," Anthony preens, directing you like a symphony.

“Oh god,” Benedict moans against your cheek, “this feels so good; please don’t stop.” He kisses you fiercely while the next blow rains down. You just whimper quietly, tears pricking at your eyes; the ache is starting to meld into one hot, burning experience. You sense yourself falling into another space.

You barely react to the next hit. Just a slow, halting exhale. Benedict kissed your cheekbone, your temple, but your response is muted, far away, your hand on him slackening.

Anthony senses your change in demeanour and stops. He doesn’t want you slipping; he wants you to be present. He drops the stick and reaches for your throat from behind, leaning over you and pulling your chin up to look at him.

“Stay with me, my girl,” he warns, “I need you to feel this. You look so beautiful with all these red marks. You’re doing so well, good girl.” He knows his praise grounds you in his presence. He watches as your eyes come back into sharper focus. He guides one of your hands between your legs. “I see just how soaked you are. Use that. Make him almost come, my girl.” Anthony’s voice is like velvet.

You return your hand to Benedict, who groans at the slick sensation you bring. His breath speeds up as you start to move your hand up and down slowly, squeezing gently on the way up, a slight twisting motion at the tip. This always works for Anthony, and it's working for him too.

Anthony stays close to your ear, his voice low. “I don’t think you've learned your lesson yet. How is your bottom feeling, my girl? Is it too raw for a spanking?”

“No, my lord,” you demure, pushing back against him, rubbing yourself unashamedly, like a cat in heat. “please.”

“Nuh-uh, not yet, you greedy girl," he tuts. “You get my cock when you’ve earned it, not before.”

Benedict is moaning louder now as you continue to work him. He is so hot and heavy in your hand, leaking slowly.

“Oh god, I’m already so close,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Take your hand away, my girl," Anthony commands as his open hand descends onto your butt cheek.

You cry out from the sting but do as you’re told, and Benedict whines instinctually from the loss of contact. You can see his cock pulsing.

Anthony pulls your hair and wraps it around his wrist. “You touch him again when I spank you," he instructs.

His hand rubs slowly over your butt cheeks while Benedict pants desperately in front of you, both of you on tenterhooks awaiting Anthony’s next move. The next blow hits your other cheek lower, almost at the junction of your thigh.

“Two," you begin counting instinctively and capture Benedict’s cock again.

“Oh, such a good girl," Anthony praises, grabbing your hair hard against your scalp, "today we are going for twenty.”

“My lord, that's so many," you protest, concentrating your movement on Benedict’s head.

“Then don’t misbehave again," he replied curtly, letting go of your hair “if you want to be with my brother, you ask my permission, do you hear me?”

“Yes, my lord," you respond breathily, realising he’s not entirely forbidding you from Benedict, who starts to squirm under your ministrations.

“Don’t let him come,” Anthony warns, “not yet.” His next hit is to one side.

“Three," you take your hand away, watching the ripples up Benedict’s shaft. The noise he makes is almost inhuman. You can tell this is agonising him, being brought so close to the edge and then denied.

“I’m sorry," you murmur to him, locking eyes and seeing his pupils blown so wide as he gasps for air. He looks alluring, so far gone.

Anthony’s hand smacks right across the spot he caned your hardest.

“Four.” You keen at the sting and latch your lips onto Benedict’s. He instantly responds, capturing your face between his hands and kissing deep.

“Five” is muffled against Benedict’s tongue.

“Grab him again, girl," Anthony commands, and you obey.

“Have mercy,” Benedict whines, his thighs shaking under the strain of continued teasing.

“Don’t take what isn’t yours," Anthony gruffs back at him, then spanking you twice, once on each cheek.

“Six, seven," the words are challenging to bite out, the sting so strong. Your legs are heavy from strain.

“Remove your hand, girl,” you reluctantly do as bidden.

Benedict cries out in frustration again, moving his hand to relieve himself of the torture.

“Brother, if you touch yourself right now, you never get to touch my girl again,” Anthony threatens.

Benedict seethes at his brother but slowly puts his hands back on the floor.

Anthony rains down three blows in quick succession; every time Benedict tries something, Anthony spanks you more as if punishing Benedict through you.

“Eight, nine, ten… Please, my lord, can I have a break,” you beseech.

“Only for a little while, my girl” Anthony’s hands rub gently over your abused flesh.

You hang your head to centre your thoughts, but Anthony has other ideas. One of his hands slips from your cheek between your legs; his questing fingers start to tease you. You mewl quietly, protesting slightly.

“This is you being taught a lesson," Anthony imparts before sliding his thumb inside you and pulling again on your hair until your face is upright and inches from Benedict’s.

“Look at him,” he commands. “Look at him while I make you come, my girl. But don't you dare kiss him or touch him. You never get to do that again unless I permit it.” His finger harshly circles your clit. All you can do is whimper staring directly into Benedict's eyes. His breath on your face, transfixed, watching you as Anthony presses his thumb harder into you. Anthony flexes at the knuckle, dragging against your walls.

“You look so beautiful,” Benedict mouths silently as Anthony’s fingers drive you higher.

“My lord, oh god, please don't stop,” you cry out for Anthony.

“I want you, sir,” you mouth back at Benedict. His eyes are just a ring of blue around black, and you intuit how much his fingers are itching to touch you, to touch himself.

“Watch her, brother, don't touch yourself,” Anthony directs, his grip on your hair tightening as he changes the angle of his hand. He knows he is torturing you both. Face inches apart, forbidden from kissing or touching. You push back against Anthony, wanting more; you want him deeper inside you, reaching that spot that drives you wild.

“Look at you fucking yourself onto my hand, you filthy girl,” Anthony coos. “What are you?” he demands

“A filthy girl,” you parrot, watching Benedict’s breath hitch.

“That’s right. And whose girl are you?” The possessiveness is biting.

“Yours my lord, always,” you respond, chasing the sensation so hard as it notches up your body from your core.

“And yours, sir,” you mouth at Benedict, intoxicated to rebel against Anthony even as he punishes you for doing precisely that. Benedict growls, unfulfilled, in response, leaking painfully, so red and swollen.

Anthony’s fingers drag hard against your clit, his thumb digging deep to hit that spot, and you start to see stars as he exerts pressure. Your breath becomes laboured, and you cry hard, begging him not to stop, to just keep going. It burns so hotly as you start to experience little shockwaves. Just as the crest of your orgasm approaches, Anthony wrenches away his fingers and spanks you forcefully on the ass, trailing your wetness over your reddened skin.

“No! Please, please don't stop, my lord,” you cry in frustration, tears pricking your eyes.

“I’ll stop when I want, if I want,” Anthony glowers. “You better learn the lesson who is in charge here. Now, what’s your count?”

“Eleven,” you say quietly, resigning yourself to being teased with no sign of relief.

“Tell me, girl, what would your colour be if I made him come in your mouth?” Anthony questions, almost casually, his hands rubbing your ass.

“Green, my lord,” you gulp.

“Good because it's going to happen,” he answers, one hand trailing up your back and into your hair, pressing your head downwards. “Brother, lie back,” Anthony orders.

***

Benedict lays down and watches, burning with anticipation, as his brother guides you closer to his leaking, aching cock. Just a few days ago, he watched from between your legs as you took Anthony into your throat, struggling beautifully as he pushed your limits. By god, he has had dreams of doing the same every night since.

His breath catches as you lock eyes with him. Your lips are resting on the very tip of his cock. Warm and inviting.

Ohhh fuckkkkk, he watches as your lips widen out and take him in slowly. Your mouth is so hot and wet, and the suction intoxicates. Benedict fights the urge to close his eyes from how good this feels, but he doesn’t want to break eye contact with you. Fascinated as your eyes grow wider as you sink down.

He groans loudly as he bumps the back of your mouth.

Anthony exerts pressure on the back of your head, and you change the angle of your jaw.

Benedict shouts as he slides right into the tight canal of your throat. The pressure on his cockhead is intense and wonderful, and oh god, everything he imagined it would be and more. He feels your struggle for breath. Sees tears form in the corner of your eyes. Still, he can’t look away. You are the most beautiful debauched thing he has ever seen.

“Stay down, my girl," Anthony dictates, pressing his hand into your hair. Not giving you any reprieve. "I can feel how much your cunt is dripping for this, so don’t pretend you don’t love to choke on his cock”

Good grief, brother Benedict thinks.

Anthony spanks you forcefully. Your responding moan and attempt to count twelve make Benedict’s vision almost white-out, feeling the vibration all the way to his root. He was already dangling so close to the edge before you took him into your mouth, and he can't stop the inevitable now even if he wanted to...

***

Your lungs burn for air as Benedict's hand shoots out to cover yours on the floor as a warning, him incapable of speech. You open your fingers and allow his to sink between yours, lacing your hands together—a sweet gesture, a moment of connection, amid a debauched tableau.

Then you feel it. Waves of motion start at your lips, rippling under your tongue and through your throat—his cries of relief, the choking sensation of salty fluids running down your gullet.

“Yes, that's it,” you hear Anthony say, finally pulling you up. You gasp for air, choking slightly, moving to rub your face as saliva and Benedict’s come streak across your mouth, your nose, your chin.

Benedict just lays prone on the floor, panting hard, his whole body twitching.

“Well done, my good girl, look what you have done to him,” Anthony compliments; he leans over you to whisper in your ear, “Would you like your treat now?”

“Yes,” you croak, your throat raspy and sore.

Anthony spanks you again, making you jump and squeal.

“Thirteen,” the counting on autopilot now.

“What do you say?” he scolds.

“Yes, please, my lord,” you correct yourself.

“That's better. Move up a little, my girl,” he says, nudging your hips forward, your hand unlacing from Benedict’s.

You crawl over Benedict, who still has his eyes closed. “That's it; I want your face right over his.”

You shuffle until you are in position, realising Benedict will be lying trapped under you while Anthony takes you. More punishment, you presume.

Benedict's eyes open as he realises what is happening. He looks up at you, his face still a haze of satisfaction.

“I know just how beautiful she is. You can touch her and kiss her brother,” Anthony permits. “Clean up her face from your own mess, why don't you,” he smirks as an afterthought as you hear him unbuttoning his trousers.

Benedict's hands reach up and cup your jaw gently. “Thank you,” his voice is quiet and reverential, his thumb sweeping through the mess on your face and into the corner of your mouth. You snag the tip of his thumb with your teeth, tasting him as Anthony's cock teases your entrance.

“Now, I've been patient all this time while I punish you and you satisfied my brother, but now it's my turn, so just take it like the good girl you are,” he says through gritted teeth as he sinks in deep, his girth stretching you and dragging forcefully against all your walls. You know that means he will be hard and unrelenting in his mounting of you; he’ll probably leave bruises and bite marks.

“You can take it, can’t you, sweet girl, for me?” Benedict’s voice is honeyed.

“Yes, sir.” You nod down at him, his thumb still caught between your teeth. His crooked smile catches your breath as Anthony sinks all the way in.

Anthony spanks your left cheek painfully.

“Fourteen,” your speech muffled around Benedict's thumb, that you suck in earnest to soothe the pain of the sting.

“Good girl, just six to go,” Anthony reminds you, pulling back out to the tip and sinking fast back to the hilt.

You cry out at the sensation, letting Benedict’s thumb fall out your mouth, your legs heavy, tensing, your arms aching from holding up on all fours for so long.

“Come here, my girl.” Benedict moves his hands and brings your head down until it rests on his collarbone, giving your arms a break. You wrap your hands around his shoulders and breathe a sigh of relief. His skin smells woodsy and comforting, and you kiss his neck gently in thanks.

Anthony’s apparent jealousy manifests in two rapid spanks across the most abused part of your butt cheek…

“Fifteen, sixteen,” you exhale shakily against Benedict's skin.

… then Anthony plunges in roughly, his thrusts smearing the moisture from your face onto Benedict's neck.

“I thought I told you to clean her up, brother,” Anthony cautions, his thrusts turning shallower.

You look up to see Benedict frown, turn his face towards you and kiss you gently, then kiss all around your mouth, sucking gently at your skin, cleaning himself off you. As he pulls away, it makes you realise Anthony has not kissed you once today; you suddenly feel bereft of his usual affections.

“Please, will you kiss me, my lord?” You plead, looking over your shoulder towards him.

“Not yet,” he bites out bitterly, his hands digging deeper into your hipbones “this is your punishment; only my very good girl gets to kiss me after I forgive her,” he says pointedly.

“Please forgive me,” you beg, desperate for his absolution.

“Take your punishment like a good girl,” he grits out, his movement becoming harsh, spearing into you, hitting the spot that makes you scream. He spanks you hard yet again, each cheek taking two heavy blows.

“Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty,” you yowl, your knees dragging on the rug from his movements, feeling your skin burn.

Anthony wraps an arm around your throat and pulls you bodily off Benedict. Upright and tight against his body, still buried deep inside you. He smells of his spicy cologne that makes you salivate, his clothing rasping against your skin. He didn't even strip down today, taking you fully clothed.

“Well done, my good girl. You did so well,” he praises. His free hand snakes up from gripping your hipbone to grasp your breast and pulls roughly on your nipple, making you shudder and keen. Your hands grab onto his firm biceps, anchoring you against him.

“Do you promise never to be with my brother unless I allow it?” He growls breathily into your ear.

“Yes, my lord,” you vow, drunk on the sensation of him wrapped tight around you. His fingers pinch your nipples, sending shockwaves through your body directly to your core. It makes you clench down on him, he snarls, and his teeth sink into the skin where your shoulder meets your neck.

“Do you promise always to be MY good girl, only mine, no one else's?” He continues as he gives a gentle thrust. You realise the implication of what he is asking, making your heart soar and your breath catch.

“Yes, my lord, only yours,” you respond fiercely, panting as his teeth dig in more and he groans intensely.

“Good, then I forgive you, my good darling beautiful girl,” his voice endearing as he turns your jaw and captures your lips with his. He kisses you deep, his tongue running into your mouth, battling with yours, stealing your breath. He pulls away gently, speaking against your lips “now you may kiss my brother again if you wish,” he smirks, “but remember who you truly belong to, my good girl.”

“Always you, my lord,” you whisper, enchanted, basking in the warmth of his forgiveness.

His hand slide heavily from your breast, over your body, down between your legs. “Do you want to come, my darling girl?” He asks, his voice sinful.

“Oh yes, please, please, my lord, I want to come so much for you,” you entreat, utterly in his thrall, watching his face as his finger gently circles around your clit, teasing, not quite hitting the spot you need “please, my lord please” you hiss.

You glance down at Benedict, whose hands now run gently over your thighs, teasing the skin there with gentle touches, watching Anthony's fingers play with your clit.

“Now you know how I like you in this position, good girl, head down, bottom up,” Anthony intones, pushing you out of his grip. “You can come with me,” he adds.

Benedict welcomes you back to him with a quick kiss on the lips but then shifts lower, encouraging you to drop down onto your hands above his head, your face against the rug. His mouth latches onto your breast as Anthony's fingers drag directly onto your clit, and he starts to move again.

Oh fuck.

It’s too much sensation at once. Anthony is unforgiving with his pace now, plundering hard, fast strokes that steal the breath from your lungs. His fingers rubbing hard on your bud. You cry with every push and whine with every pull back, just a constant stream of noise you cannot stop. Benedict uses his teeth; oh, he remembers from last time what you like and, fuck, if he isn’t so good at this. You feel yourself hurtling fast, your vision narrowing, every muscle tensing.

“My lord, this is too much,” you voice your thoughts plaintively, “I’m going to come soon.”

“No, not yet,” Anthony orders gruffly. “You wait for me.”

“Please, my lord, I can’t hold it anymore; please let me come,” you babble, your forehead dragging hard on the rug, the burn distracting you, hoping it can hold off. Your whole body strung taught, dangling over the precipice.

He removes his hand from your clit. “I said no,” he commands. But Benedict keeps his teeth dragging on your nipple, alternating each one, pinching the other hard with his hands. You’re legitimately screaming now, every fibre of your being on fire. Anthony fucks you so hard for what feels like an eternity, you just hanging there, over a cliff edge facing the abyss. He groans hard and leans over you, his teeth sinking into your neck, making you clench hard.

“Oh fuck yes, that’s it, my girl, come on then, come all over my cock, you pretty thing,” he growls against your ear, biting your earlobe, his fingers back between your legs.

It tips you right over the edge. Your orgasm, denied for too long all afternoon, hitting you with a blinding force. Your hands and knees are scrambling with blisters, your teeth digging to the rug, the strength of your pulsing cunt pushing Anthony out of your body as you scream a litany of my lords and sirs, feeling Benedict’s teeth and Anthony’s splash all over your shuddering overheated back.

Your hips collapse, and you land on top of Benedict inelegantly, his arms wrapping low around your thighs as he gently kisses your breastbone.

“Oh well done, my darling girl,” Anthony pants heavily, hands smearing his come into your skin possessively, moving to soothe the ache on your bum. Reaching down to kiss between your shoulder blades, his face is on the other side of your body from Benedict’s.

“I believe this lesson went well,” Anthony opines a few minutes later as he rebuttons his clothing.

“Are you sure she doesn’t have more to learn, brother?” Benedict teases gently as he pulls back on his trousers. “I’d be happy to help with the teaching next time. If you’ll allow it, of course,” he adds hastily.

Anthony barks a laugh. “I’ll allow it. After all, there are always new lessons to be taught, my girl,” his voice full of promise, pulling you into his arms for a kiss as Benedict reaches out and grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips.

Oh, these wonderful boys and their ideas.

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